T W E N T Y - F I V E
immaculate vibes.

With my head leant against the open window, I freed my brown hair from the messy ponytail, letting it cascade behind me, blowing in the warm breeze.

My eyes shut so my eyelashes don't blind me and a small smile spreads across my lips.

I can't hear the talking inside the car more than a faint buzz – partly due to the wind, partly due to me wanting nothing to do with it. I'm so sick of this all, it's got me so stressed I think my hair's falling out. And I could not pull off being bald.

The mood in the car lifted once we booted the wanted killer from the car. Some of the stress drained away, but knowing we were still very much involved made sure my mind wouldn't stop racing.

I guess, with my mind being so full, I've forgotten the other disasters currently rotting my life. The fact Rafe is a psycho murderer has now overtaken the stress of Rafe being my psycho ex-boyfriend, and the stress of that, mainly being that I know that, after I publicly embarrassed him with the whole cheating thing, he's going to hit me back – figuratively, hopefully. My father's also going to be on a warpath, he pushed so hard for me to be with Rafe. Because this isn't the first time I've "dragged the Marcus name through the mud", he was apparently "so lenient" the first time. My being with Rafe was meant to fix what I fucked up.

Lies on top of lies on top of lies. Just about all I can't say even to myself in the mirror.

The utterance of them wouldn't just hurt my reputation or relationships, it would crush my soul. To acknowledge all the hurt, it would make it real. And I'm really great at pretending it's anything but.

There's also whatever Barry's probably going to do. But that's low on the list of disasters. He's a low-life drug dealer with an ego complex, I can deal with him.

"Frankie," I hear the word drift through the car. I ignore it, hoping they leave me be, enjoying the wind, my eyes shut as I enjoy the last pieces of today's sunlight. "Frankie, you want some?"

Colour me curious. I pull my head from the window, my hands instantly smoothing my hair. As I sit back into the car the smell hits me in the face. Pot.

When have I ever turned down drugs?

I don't say a word, my answer coming in the form of me reaching out a hand. Pope obliges and hands over the shoddily rolled blunt. Someone was in a rush. I don't judge the bad roll and instead put it between my lips and fill my lungs, my eyes lift to the rear-view mirror, and I could just feel it – JJ staring. I exhale the toxic smoke out the still-open window. I look down at him, I sit behind Kie, and he sits in the driver's seat. His hands tighten around the wheel and he sits up a little straighter.

I lean forward, putting my head between the seats, elbows on the armrest, "Want some, JJ?" I ask.

He clears his throat, "Uh, nah. I'm driving."

"You're high as a kite right now, JJ," Kie scoffs. Who pissed in her cornflakes?

I sit back, looking at him through the same mirror as he flicks his eyes between the road he should be completely focused on, and me as I put the blunt between my lips and fill my lungs once again. Blowing the smoke out the window, I pass the joint back to Pope, who takes it eagerly.

JJ's created a monster.

Someone needs to show Pope the Stoner Sloth ad. It may actually work on him.

"Eyes on the fucking road!" Kie snaps as we almost vear off and into a stream. "What is wrong with you?"

"Just a leg cramp," he mutters, shifting in his seat again. I don't miss the way his hand adjusts his shorts.

He really is the most desperate person I know. I know he's a teenage boy, but fucking hell. Not that I mind, it's nice that one look has someone almost swerving off the road. In a weird way.

Maybe he was so appalled with me that he wanted to end it all? I should float that possibility.

Looking at the wing mirror I can see Kiara's foul face, whatever's wrong with her needs to be resolved quickly before she starts devising nuclear weapons to blow up her problems. I honestly wouldn't put it past her. Sure, I can be a little petty and dramatic, but she takes it to a whole other level. She once set fire to someone's homework – my homework. All because I didn't want to go swimming. She knows I hate swimming.

Oblivious to the thick tension, Pope sighs. "I'm just glad I'm not driving now," He coughs.

"You're an awful stoned driver, you went a little mental," I grin at him.

I sit back, enjoying the radio that's not too loud and hasn't been interrupted by news on the killer teenager on the loose. No news is good news, as they say. As the THC hits my already muddled mind that has some awful feelings circulating through, it feels as though all the troubling thoughts fall out of my head. My vibes are becoming immaculate. I can feel my body relaxing as it chills out.

Some may say I'm chiller than a pillar.

Have I ever heard anyone ever say it? No. But there's someone else out there who whips the fabulous phrase out every so often.

I lean forward, putting my head between the two front seats again. "Where are we going?" I ask, looking between the pair, a goofy smile no doubt spread across my face.

"Frankie, sit back," Kie scolds me. I flop back, annoyed. "We are going to the last place they're gonna look," she smiles.

"The police station! Why would we go there, it was a disaster last time, do you not remember?"

"What?" She turns to look over her shoulder. I thought the insinuation was obvious, the last place the police would look is where they work? Surely. "No, we're going to Tannyhill, do you not recognise the road?" She asks.

I glance out the window. "Maybe? It's a little dark." I squint. "Oh! A rabbit!" I look back in the car, Pope shifts to see out the window, by the time he does the rabbit has gone back to its home.

"I missed it," Pope frowns.

"There's plenty more rabbit in the wilderness... get it? Plenty more fish in the sea... rabbits in the wilderness?" I look at him, he looks confused.

"I get it," JJ looks back at me. "It's funny."

"Thank you."

A few minutes later we arrive at Sarah's house, I open the door and unclip my seat belt before the car has fully stopped.

"I should start using the fucking child lock," I hear JJ mutter. "She does that way too often," he talks to Pope.

I scoff and slam the door shut unnecessarily hard, only realising it after it makes a noise that everyone turns their heads to. "My bad," I raise my hands.

JJ walks around the car and puts a hand on my back as we walk to the wall separating Tannyhill from the rest of the island. I hear JJ mutter something I can't imagine is very kind under his breath. I should give him a piece of my mind.

Not a literal piece. I don't think he'd appreciate that.

"So why exactly are we here?" I ask. "Also if we're jumping the fence there's an easy way a little further up. I could even do it when I was Fireball drunk."

"Seriously? Fireball drunk?" Kie sounds shocked. I can barely walk when I'm Fireball drunk.

"Mhm, Rafe refused to help so I figured out where I wouldn't break my neck," I continue walking further up. I can't even see him, but I can just feel how unimpressed JJ is with me bringing up Rafe. Even if it's for the benefit of everyone else.

"We're here because Sarah is the only one who can clear John B's name. I'll go first," Kie volunteers when I point out the easier route.

"What's Fireball drunk?" JJ asks, I now can hear how unimpressed he is. Knew it. I'm a psychic.

"Fireball messes me up. Don't know why, but if I'm drinking Fireball I'm desperate and am about to be stumbling and, probably, vomiting everywhere. It's super cute and very sexy."

I manage to hoist myself over the fence I've climbed over time and time again, usually with Rafe not so patiently hurrying me up from the other side. This time I just see an annoyed Kie, and Pope who's smiling, but not a good smile, like the type of smile someone has when they're about to make a drunken mistake they'll think about every night for the rest of their lives and cringe.

JJ jumps down behind me and I jump, give a girl some warning. Geez.

"Okay, I've got a plan," Kie says.

I see Pope nod in the darkness, he looks both deep in thought and not really listening. Like JJ in every single class he attends. "Yeah, I have plans. I can do plans. Let's do the plan thang," he mumbles I think mostly to himself.

Kiara snaps her fingers to get Pope to look at her, his face whips in her direction. "Can you handle a plan right now?" She asks.

Pope scoffs at the notion he couldn't handle a plan in his state of mind. "Of course, I can handle a plan right now. I'm– I'm Plan Guy. I'm– I'm Mister Plan-o-Matic. I'm always thinking of a master plan!" With every stumbled sentence his voice raises a couple dozen decibels. My mind is quickly sobering up, I am a lot less chiller than a pillar. I'm like lukewarm ice cream.

"Pope, shut it!" I whisper-yell at him as he stamps on all of the once immaculate vibes.

"This is a quiet plan," she tells him, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Okay?" She asks, giving him a look that says not to mess with her. "Can I move my hand?" He nods and she removes it, although I think within a second she wants to slap it back over his mouth.

"I love you, Kie," Pope admits, shoulders deflating as if he has a physical weight taken off him.

Confusion washes over Kie. "What?" She asks, clearly thinking she must've not heard him right.

Right now is not the time for declarations of – now I am being a little presumptuous right now – unrequited love. In my humble opinion, there is never a time when unrequited declarations are ever appropriate. Well, I may be a little bitter, but perhaps there is never a time for declarations of love, unrequited or otherwise. Maybe we should all keep that little, stupid feeling to ourselves. It'd probably stop a lot of wars – why, you may ask? Because it would decrease bad days, and therefore, people wouldn't start wars willy-nilly.

Getting back to the point. Right now is the time for clear thinking and well-thought-out plans.

I need to wake up.

I slap myself.

Jesus, I have some power behind me. That stings. I move my hand to rub the skin of my cheek which is no doubt bright red. I was meant to get my head clear, but now all I can think about is that my cheek hurts. Not exactly what I was going for. Before I bring contact with the burning skin JJ intercepts and grabs my hand, holding it from soothing the skin.

"Mabel, what the fuck?" He holds my wrist like he thinks I ever plan on doing that again.

I saw it in The Great. It seemed to wake Catherine up. I didn't realise it hurt so bad.

"I was trying to sober myself up – I think it worked," I use my other hand to rub at my cheek. "That actually hurt."

"You hit it hard," he looks at me with a mix of confusion, concern and amusement. "Can you stop slapping yourself and hitting your head on things? It'd really make me feel a whole lot better."

"I pity the people I've slapped," I mumble.

"What about the people you've elbowed?" He seems to still be a little salty about that, even hours later. Perhaps because he's sporting a black eye, and if a leaf brushes his nose it's going to gush blood.

"My elbow still hurts," I lie. It felt fine about twenty after I elbowed him.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?"

I make a disgusted face and shake off his hand. Ew. So much ew. Trying to stop thinking about his small offer that makes my skin crawl, I turn my attention back to the extremely awkward conversation unfolding in front of JJ and me. Completely separate from us, neither Pope nor Kie probably knows I just slapped myself in the face no mercy style.

"I love you. I'm in love with you," He just doesn't stop digging the hole. His stoned brain can't see that Kie does not feel the same about him, not even slightly.

"You're wasted, my dude," I laugh, trying to dispel some of the thick tension. And trying to give him an out. He can play the 'haha I am so wasted ignore me' card that doesn't work out amazingly but works out better than whatever's happening here.

Pope glares at me like he's trying to send me six feet under. Kie begins to walk off, away from the mess Pope is creating. This is like a damn soap opera. "No, I know I'm wasted, and that's why I'm saying this right now. I really feel like this. I love you. I've been meaning to tell you, I love–" Kie cuts him off. Thankfully. It's painful to watch.

Don't say I didn't try and stop it. All my efforts got me was a death glare.

"Are we going to do this right now?" She asks. He tries to answer, but she cuts him off again. "Pope... Pope! Shh! First of all, I need you to be quiet."

He mumbles things no one can hear.

"No. Stop talking, like, now." She corrects. "Second of all... thank you for saying that. Now, that's very sweet but it's– look, it's not going to happen."

I think I'd pass a drug test at this point. The last two minutes have really sobered me up. Pope deflates, but not in a 'weight off your shoulders' way, but in a crushed way.

The vibes are so ruined.

-

JJ is missing.

Well, he's somewhere in The Wreck. Probably smoking outside. Or getting something from the car.

I should rephrase that, he's probably in the general vicinity. Never can tell.

I walk away from Pope who sits on one side of the dining area, and Kie who sits on the other.

It's odd, walking through something that's always bustling and noisy, between diners being obnoxiously loud, to chefs shouting 'idiot sandwich'. Now it's silent and tense. Not the ideal dining experience.

My trainers squeak on the linoleum as I walk into the corridor that leads to the staff bathrooms because they're nicer. And on the other side of the building – I get pee-shy. Sue me.

The back door swings open and I almost scream "murderer", but then I realise it's JJ and I'm unnecessarily on edge.

He sees me and wets his lips, moving before I quite realise what's happening. The back door slams shut and he's walking across the kitchen in large steps. His rough hand grabs my upper arm and he takes me with him, not slowing down as I struggle to keep up due to the shock of being dragged toward my destination. If he had asked me where I was going we could've avoided all this.

But he doesn't open the staff bathrooms, he opens a cleaning closet. Not letting go until I'm deep into the small room. The door shuts, and he doesn't bother to turn the lights on, so the small window that lets the kitchen light pour through is my only saving grace in figuring out what's going on.

The room smells like the fake vanilla surface cleaner my Mum uses, and something else that's equally not fabulous and is probably taking years off my life as we stand here.

Before I can open my mouth I'm back against the cold, brick wall. I squeak, but any more other noise or confused words I want to express are stifled when his lips meet mine. The kiss isn't gentle, it's hard and desperate – sums JJ up. It takes a second for me to realise what's happening, but when I do I kiss him back, he seems to only get more hungry. Without any warning, his teeth bite my bottom lip and when I open my mouth to do whatever I can think of to tell him that's not okay, his tongue slides into my mouth. His hand slip up the back of my neck, his fingers knit in my hair so I can't escape even if I wanted to. Which, let's be honest, I don't.

I'm so lost as to what's happening, one second I'm going to pretend to pee so I can get some time away from the two people who refuse to acknowledge each other's existence, and now I'm pushed against the wall in a small room stuffed with cleaning products.

The hand woven in my hair pulls down making my chin tilt to the ceiling, my breath hitches and my lungs finally get the oxygen they so desperately needed. His lips begin attacking my neck, he's not a fool and knows not to leave a single mark or I will castrate him.

His lips and tongue meet every spot on my neck that he knows drives me crazy.

I don't even realise my fingers have been grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him as close to me as possible until he leans back.

My chest tries to find a rhythm that's anywhere close to normal, my heartbeat is erratic and my brain is mush. "Well, hello to you too," I whisper breathlessly.

He swallows, and his own chest seems to rise and fall quickly. "You're driving me crazy," he whispers, but I hear it loud and clear in the silent room.

"Me?" I laugh without an ounce of humour, it's confused and flustered. "You've been nuts way before I ever met you."

I swear this man must've been hit on the head at some point between the car ride back from Tannyhill and now, because he's gone back to kissing my neck in all the right places that only he knows, only he cared to remember. His lips leave a wet trail that burns in the best way possible, inching down my shoulder and toward my chest where I'm sure he can hear my heart racing.

His hands drag down the sides of my waist, grabbing and squeezing my ass without warning. All the while he continues to kiss me, slowly making his way back up to my face. I bite down on my lip to not let a sound out.

My knees feel weak and the rest of the world and all our problems seem to have melted away.

"You were teasing me in the car," His words are ragged and breathless and it all clicks. No wonder he's been in a rush. His hot breath sends shock waves through my body as it lights up the wet kisses he's left along my body.

"It wasn't even on purpose," I half-lie. The first time wasn't on purpose, the second time was just to mess with him. I didn't realise how much I got to him.

Definitely wasn't trying to drive into a stream to kill us because he was horrified.

"Please let me fuck you," he whispers, pulling back so we can properly look at each other, something we haven't yet done. The small amount of light that filters through the room is enough to see how serious he's being. His cheeks are bright pink, his lips are puffy and the same shade as his cheeks. His eyes are so full of lust and need.

My fingers still grab his shirt, they're scared if they let go he'll walk away and leave me here confused as to what happened and if it ever actually happened.

"You're so desperate," I repeat the same phrase I've been telling him for months. You're so desperate. He hasn't once reversed and said it back to me.

One of his hands lifts and tucks some strands of my hair, that fell from the ponytail when he was pulling it, back behind my ear. "I know," he says unashamedly.

"Are you serious?" I ask.

"I know you want me," he says with utmost confidence. I mean, he is right, but still, he needs to calm down. I don't say a word, not finding anything to say. No smartass comments about how he's got a massive ego, no denying that he has that effect on me or telling me he's gross and to leave me alone. He's right. This is all I want to be doing right now, I don't care about reason. His fingers push passed the band of my shorts and tuck themselves just underneath, not making any real moves until I find an answer. The touch sends warmth right through my body, I feel my eyebrows pull together just like they always do when I may be a little desperate.

"Condom. There's no condom," I whisper.

He smirks and pulls exactly one hand out of my shorts and sticks it in the back pocket of his own shorts, holding it between us. The shiny foil packet