Stella Carter was somewhat the Hannah Montana of the Outerbanks, she had the best of both worlds. Although, without the good relationships with the Kooks.
When the Summer she was promised to have a good time the whole time, became a task to survive...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"They've run Charleston for, like, 300 years." Kiara told her three best friends as Pope pulled the jeep up against the curb, the teenagers staring at the grande houses in a form of awe.
"These Kooks make our Kooks look like Pogues." JJ stated, eyeing up the individual house. "You sure this is the place, Pope?"
Pope's hand hovered over to the door handle, "Pretty sure."
"Alright then," Stella creased her lips into a thin line and pushed open the door, climbing our first as she tried to fix her bed head.
"Fat city for sure."
Pope pulled up the letter and held it out in front of the house, staring at the black gate with sharp edges lined upon the top. "Twenty-seven King Street."
"And you thought my dad went anal over security," Stella raised her brows, "You think those spikes are to keep people out?" She added.
Kiara shook her head, "No."
"The slave quarters are over there." Pope told them before signing, "Those spikes were to keep people in." He continued as Stella frowned.
Stella put her hand to the gate, unlocking it as she lead them in whilst the three stared at her. "You coming?" She turned when she realised that she wasn't being followed.
Rushing in behind her, they walked towards the door until Pope lifted his hand from his side and used the large door knocker.
"You think that was too loud?"
"It echoed the entire house. That's for sure... so they definitely heard it."
"Maybe nobody's home."
Stella furrowed her brows, "We didn't go through hell to get here for there to be nobody home." She muttered, her hand meeting with the door knocker as she slammed even harder than Pope, freezing when the grande door was pulled open.
A man looked between them, confused, licking his lips before pointing his finger to Pope. "You must be Pope." He said as Pope stuttered.
"Um... are you Mr. Limbrey?" Pope asked.
"Ms. Limbrey was expecting you yesterday," He almost cut the teenage boy off.
The irritated look on the strangers face caused Stella herself to get irritated. "Oh. I'm... i'm sorry. My car broke down on the way up here —"
