15. i'm in crain.

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F I F T E E N
i'm in crain.

I'm hungover and I'm uncomfortable.

My brain hurts from hating myself and because I haven't drunk water in way too long. I'm the cliche Diet Coke girl who refuses water.

I stare at the glass of water that sits in front of me, on the table at The Wreck. I don't want to be here, I want to be in a coma for as long as it takes for me to forget last night.

The water doesn't taste nice, it tastes off and it's making me feel sick. It's room temperature which is probably the main issue. I already feel sick, it's making me feel double sick.

Why am I even here?

The chair I sat in because the world was spinning screeches along the worn wooden floorboards, eyes turn to me. "I'll be back in a second," I smile.

I know The Wreck well, I've been countless times, spent dozens of nights eating the leftover food with Kie and Sarah, then just with Kie. The floorboards turn to tile as I near the bathroom, I hear footsteps follow behind me.

"Did you think that was code?" I ask JJ.

"No. Unless it was?" He looks hopeful.

I shake my head. "My parents already have enough ammo, I don't need to add a bathroom hookup at my best friend's restaurant to the list."

He nods, "That's fair. I actually came to offer you this," he grabs out a blunt.

I eye the blunt, then look at JJ. "I think my brain is melting due to not having a break from intoxicants," I state.

"So that's a no?" He asks.

"No, it's a fact. I'm saying yes, we can climb out the women's bathroom window, the men's goes out into a tree," I push the door open and JJ follows. I push open the window and pull myself through, JJ follows behind me.

"Why were you in the men's bathroom?" He asks as we sit on a nearby bench.

I look across at him and take the blunt. Putting it in my mouth, he pulls out the lighter and lights the end. I take a puff, blowing out the smoke into the wind, before handing it over. "Take a wild guess," I look at him.

"Rafe?"

"God no, he'd never," I shake my head.

"Was I not the only side piece?" He looks confused.

"Nope, I had my first kiss in there. It was awful and I tried escaping out the window, but there was a tree," I smile and take back the blunt.

"Who with?" He asks as we continue swapping over the blunt.

"Garry, the short one, started balding at seventeen," I explain, painting a really nice picture.

"Really? Isn't he like... six years older than you?" He does the maths. Incorrectly.

I shake my head, "Five. I think I was fourteen, I'm pretty sure he was nineteen."

"Wow. So he was bald when you kissed him?" He looks concerned at the balding aspect.

"Yep. He wore the beanies before he did the combover. Everyone still knew he was bald as fuck," I explain. "Who was your first kiss?"

"Someone age-appropriate, and not balding," he took the blunt back, an amused look on his face.

My head begins feeling light, the sickness begins fading. The self-hatred is still very much there, though. "I don't tend to go for guys around my age," I tell him, finishing off the blunt and throwing it on the ground, squashing it into the ground with the toe of my shoe. I'm not trying to start any forest fires.

"Are you aware how old I am?"

I stand up, dusting off my hands. "Tend. I don't tend to go for them. Plus, I don't go for you, you go for me and I let you. Probably should go back in, don't want to give them the wrong idea."

"They've already got the wrong idea. I followed you into the bathroom, you can't get more wrong of an idea than that," he says honestly.

I nod, staring at him sitting on the bench lazily. "I–uh, drank way too much last night. And the brownies weren't a good idea. Nothing about last night was a good idea. What I mean is I'm sorry for being a little annoying."

"It was funny."

"You want the shirt back?" I ask, kicking a stick in an effort to not make eye contact.

He shakes his head, "The fish looked at me funny."

I look at him weirdly, "It looked at you funny? What were you on, smack?" I laugh.

He gets up, tucking the lighter back in his pocket, "Don't question me," he smirks down at me.

It's at times like this where I wish I was maybe three inches taller so I'd be taller than him and could look down at him. All judgy and glarey. I'd say cocky things and not have Little Man Syndrome.

He pushes the window open and gestures for me to go first, "And they say chivalry is dead," I mumble and begin pulling myself up and through the window with absolutely no grace.

"I just wanted to see your butt," he grins as I stand up on the other side.

I grab the window and pull it down before he can get in and lock it. He looks at me, I look at him, give him a smile at walk off.

Once I get back to the table JJ walks through the front door. Maybe that offset some of the suspicion? Probably not, but maybe. And I'll take maybe. Sliding back in my seat I chug the glass of gross-tasting water and relax back into the chair.

JJ is across from me, crossing his arms in front of him. But soon he walks around the table to stand behind me.

We all watch as Kie clears plates. She talks to us all. Us all except me. She won't even look at me, I don't know why she's mad at me, she's the one who called me a drunk slut who had it coming.

I'm still pissy and want her to stub her toe, but the idea of having a fude isn't fun. We're stuck together, so may as well not want to rip each other's ears off.

"So, you're living with Sarah Cameron?" She asks, walking back into the kitchen with her arms weighed down with stacks of plates.

John B looks like he's close to yanking all his hair out his head, explaining the situation over and over again to an unwaveringly annoyed Kiara. "It's just because her Dad bailed me out, right? And it's way better than foster care, which, by the way, is where I was about to go if Ward didn'tβ€”" he continues his defence.

I don't entirely understand why Ward, who just fired John B, would let him stay in his house. But what do I know?

I do know he's staying with my mortal enemy.

Pope interrupts him. "So, do you have a membership to the clubs now?" He asks. He sits sprawled out on the seat, looking way too relaxed. Maybe the golf club changed the wiring in his head.

John B takes a seat across from me, and next to Pope.

"I don't know, Pope," John B sighs, trying not to use his broken hand.

JJ stands behind me, his hands grab the top of the chair I'm sitting on as he leans against it. "What about one of those golf carts they drive around? You get one of them?" He asks, amused by his friend's exasperation.

"Or a sweater vest?" I ask, fueling the fire.

"Or do you have to buy your own?" JJ adds to my question.

Kie, however, is not enjoying the light-hearted jokes. "You promised," she whines. "You said you weren't with her." She reminds him.

"Bro, just own it. She got you," JJ pipes up. If there is one thing he won't do, it's let stuff go.

"And there is nothing wrong with that, Sarah is a lovely person," I state. Not so subtly directing it at one person, the one hung up on John B's new living arrangements.

"Look," Kie says, drawing attention back to herself. "If you want to hang out with her, that's fine. But I'm letting you know, I'm not doing anything with Sarah." The statement seems directed to more than John B.

John B looks around dramatically. "Do you guys see her here?" He asks rhetorically, "No," he answers himself. "Right, a little focus would be fantastic. We've got the map, right?" He says sourly.

JJ pushes off the back of the chair, sliding it forward an inch, leading me to grab the table so I don't have my ribs crushed. He leans over meβ€”rudely, might I addβ€”and grabs the beer that sits next to my water that remains untouched. "It's all out of whack 'cause the guy was ganja'd when he drew it," JJ stated with certainty. As always, convinced there's no way he isn't right.

Kie looks across at him, "It's 'cause the coast has changed," she corrects him.

Pope sits forward, getting less relaxed and a little more rigid. "So, we're just going to have to look for landmarks that haven't changed."

"What about the old forts?" I propose, "Battery Jasper," I point to the map. I have trauma from that place, I temporarily went missing around it.

Surprisingly everyone seems content with my idea, no one calls me a stupid bitch. We all make our way out of the restaurant and toward the van.

BREAK HERE.

I'm the last to get out of the van, and just before I do JJ sticks out his hand for me, "Madame," he smiles.

Staring at him weirdly I decide to just grab it and get out of the van. I drop his hand the second my feet hit the ground.

"Did you just wipe your hand on your leg?" JJ asks.

I look at him like he's stupid, "No. You're blind."

"I saw you wipe it off. I don't have hand diseases, and if I did you've already got them," he points out.

"Well, if I didβ€”which I didn'tβ€”it would be because the Lord alone knows where your hands have been," I tell him.

He gives me a smirk, I cut him off. "Shut up." I don't even let him get out a word of the gross sentence he was no doubt about to say.

We walk over to the group where the rest of the group stands, Pope's got the map out and is studying it intently. While he looks at the map I look around where I had the fateful picnic.

"We're in battery, right here," Pope thinks out loud. The tip of his finger traces along the map, following winding trails and waterways. "So, if this is Parcel Nine, then it's somewhere northeast of here." He stands up and gestures generally to the view of the waterβ€”pretty much the same view you'll get all over the island, except we're a little higher than normal.

"Well, that's really narrowed it down," I kick a rock, mumbling to myself.

"Over there? Guys, that's not Tannyhill, that's a subdivision," JJ cuts in, clearly knowing more about the island we both grew up on.

"Tannyhill plantation was the entire island," John B tells the group. "It got sold into smaller pieces over time."

Pope looks back down at the map, "So we're just looking for an old stone wall." He concludes. He picks up the map, "We gotta go."

We all turn toward the van, walking in a group. "You know I went missing here," I glance around at the tree line.

He stops walking and looks at me, eyes widened. "What? You can't just drop that in casually."

"Well, I was found, so it's not that big of a deal," I roll my eyes. I am still a little traumatised, but that's neither here nor there.

"When?" He still sounds confused.

"I don't know, a while ago. I think I was nine. There was an Amber Alert and everything, it was all very dramatic," I add an extra detail that seems to freak him out more.

"How do you go missing around here, no matter which direction you go civilisation isn't far away," he seems bewildered at little Frankie.

"We were on a picnic, I get pee shy so I walked into the forest and when I took a while to come back everyone freaked out. I wasn't even that far in, I just couldn't remember which direction I came from."

"Did you not even try and find your way out?" He laughs.

"Of course I did, I just gave up once I got hungry. I think it was a strange attempt at conserving energy, I'm not entirely sure, I was a weird kid. I wasn't missing more than six hours."

"What the fuck, Mabel?" He seems shocked. I don't know why, I had to call him once because I got lost trying to get to his house after a detour. I was three minutes away.

"I'm bad at geography!"

"That's not even geography, that's justβ€”I don't even know," he shakes his head and begins walking toward the van.

"We all have our faults, and I was nine, I was too busy trying to figure out onomatopoeias, that I didn't find the time to study a map of the island. Sue me." I raise my hands as we walk side by side.

"What is an onomatopoeia?"

"Like a word that sounds like the noise it makes, completely useless information," I explain.

"Exactly why I didn't learn it."

"What's a synonym?" I ask. "Because that's one you should know, it's mildly useful."

"I didn't do science," he shakes his head.

"You do do science, you just don't show up. But that's beside the point, it's English."

"You should drive us back, little Miss Genius," he smirks at me.

"I can't drive manual," I mumble as he lets me get into the van first. Probably so he can look at my butt.

"And?" He prompts.

"And nothing." I sit down, buckling my seatbelt in. I got the real one, JJ's got the one held together with duct tape.

As he gets himself comfortable he looks at me with a grin spread across his face, "We can't all be good at everything, sweetcheeks. Just admit it. Give me a win."

I stare at him right back, "Not in a million years, buddy." I shake my head.

He doesn't break eye contact, his eyebrows pull together in annoyance. "Don't call me buddy, it's weird."

"Sure thing, pal." I smile at him and look ahead at the bumpy road we drive down. My hand grabs the handle on the ceiling of the car, trying to not let myself get a concussion.

We continue driving, the road goes from bad to worse. I feel my hand holding the handle on the roof fall, the plastic still between my fingers. My other hand goes to grab something in shock.

"Holy shit, Mabel," JJ shouts.

My hand lifts as I look at JJ who is doubled over, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry." I apologise, having no clue what I did. "Are you okay?" I ask quietly, looking at Pope who looks back.

"All good," JJ mumbles. "You're all good." He sits up, cheeks bright red, looking traumatised.

"What did I do?" I whisper, my heart beating erratically, petrified of what JJ is going to do.

"You smacked my dick," He whispers back.

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry," I whisper back.

He shakes his head, "All good."

"But I am really sorry," I apologise again, wanting to get my point across. My right hand still death-grips the stupid handle. "I didn't mean to, the handle fell off the car."

"It's fine, it was an accident," he repeats the same sentiment. He is brushing off all my apologies.

"It was really an accident, I wasn't trying to hurt you, I'm sβ€”"

"Mabel, no more apologising." We keep whispering back and forth. "I'm not mad, stop freaking out."

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"Mhm," he hums.

Pope looks back in the rearview mirror, "You good, JJ?" He asks.

"Perfect. Totally fine, don't worry about it," he lies. I think he's trying to not make me feel worse, but I can see him, he looks like he's trying not to vomit. He looks like me when I'm violently drunk, in the seconds before I vomit my guts out.

John B hits a particularly big pothole, JJ grabs my leg as he stares straight forward. He now looks like a man who's come back from war and seen some things.

John B mumbles a sorry.

I move, lifting my bum out of my seat and digging through my back pocket. I find the blister back I've had in my pocket for a concerning amount of time. Sitting back down I check it's an Ibuprofen and not my antidepressant. That's not going to do a whole lot right now.

"I have some Ibuprofen?" I offer JJ.

He looks at me. "Sure," he takes the packet from me and begins popping out a pill, then another, then another, he goes to pop out a fourth, I grab his hand.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? You're only meant to take two," I take back the packet.

"Mabel, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, but I think I'm dying," he tells me with absolute seriousness.

I put the packet in my front pocket, "I punched your dick, I didn't rip out your kidney. You're going to overdose and actually die."

"You punched his dick?" John B looks back through the mirror.

"It was an accident, I don't punch dicks for no reason," I defend myself.

"I need morphine," he shakes his head.

Pope clears his throat, "Okay, so the road should split up here," he points to the fork in the road that splits ahead of us. "All right, you're gonna take a left," he directs as we get further and further away from the mostly habituated area, and closer to the thick forest.

Pain still evident on his face JJ looks out the window, "That looks like a stone wall to me," he observes.

Once the van stops we all observe the clearly worn, old, grandiose house. Slowly filing out of the van JJ does not hold out a hand for me. I think he is actually mad.

"Not the Crain house," John B sounds like he wishes it was anywhere else but this Godforsaken place.

Kie looks at the house with disdain, "Are you kidding me? She asks rhetorically, obviously sharing the same opinion as John B.

"Worst case," JJ nods from where he stands beside me.

The only one who seems to agree with my view on the old house and its inhabitants simply being a lonely, old woman isβ€” "Why'd it have to be here?" Pope cuts off my wishful internal monologue.

"You guys shouldn't judge people based on rumours, she's probably just a lively, old woman whose be vilified by shitty teenagers," I scoff.

JJ looks at me like I told him the sky isn't blue, "The woman buried her husband's head on the property," he says like it's a known fact.

"Sure," I roll my eyes.

We all begin the walk over to the house.

The air is humid, making it all feel hotter than it isβ€”it's the humidity that gets you, as my Grandfather would sayβ€”and as we walk into the overgrown grass it cranks up.

Birds call out to one another, flying above my head, all I can hope is they don't shit on me. Whatever lies they spout about it bringing good luck as just thatβ€”lies. Having bird shit on you isn't lucky.

I watch JJ's back as we walk toward the house, he's finally standing up straight after the incident. At the bottom of his back, the red shirt sticks to his skin. Everything about JJ is both obvious and confusing. He's not a secretive person, really. You get what you see, a reckless idiot who smokes too much. But no one can be just that, like Rafe is not just a crackhead that slapped me. And my father is not just an angry man who throws things. I'm not just a girl who makes stupid decisions and overthinks everything leading to the worst outcome. And recklessness, idiocy and smoking aren't all JJ Maybank has to give to the world.

He is more than that, he is nice to me when most people aren't; he is patient when I'm too drunk and not making any sense; he watches awful shows without much complaint; he seems to care beyond looking at my boobs. He doesn't shout or pick at everything I do, he seems to not care about the stupid little things I do that drove Rafe into madness. He doesn't act like I'm diseased when I have a shred of emotion.

JJ is different than Rafe.

I have known that since I first met him, and he dumped a beer on my new dress. He gave me a stupid look, trying to play it off as an accident, trying to goad Rafe into trying to beat him up. It didn't work, I whispered to Rafe I'd suck his dick if we left, and Rafe is a man, so he chose to get a blow job.

JJ does another thing that Rafe never managed to do, JJ makes me feel like a person. Rafe seemed to think I was an extension of himself, something he could boss aboutβ€”so when I went off the desired course or expressed an undesirable emotion, he'd throw a fit.

I have a worry that bubbles in the pit of my stomach, what if Rafe messed me up so badly I won't be able to love someone kindly? I'm scared that I'll mess someone up, not by

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