my always addiction ☞︎𝕛𝕛 𝕞𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕒𝕟𝕜☜︎

𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱

teeny

Almost an hour had passed before one of Sarah's family friends found us paddling, and insisted on taking us home.

And when I say insisted, I mean forced. She physically grabbed Sarah's arm and wouldn't let her paddle away.

It was kind of scary, but nothing I hadn't seen before.

•••

zia

"Alright, ready?" I grab the car keys off of the greasy counter in the Wreck. I don't know why I always put everything there, it always leaves a disgusting residue.

We were taking my (technically Macy's) car because Kie made it very clear that she wanted to stay at The Wreck, to be there when Pope got back.

JJ and I agreed to it, only because we wanted to leave them alone for a little.

JJ looks at the keys, then back out the window. Blank expression.

He doesn't want to do this. I can't blame him. I wouldn't want to either.

But it's for John B. And Sarah.

"Hey?" I say quietly, taking a step towards him.

He snaps out of whatever trance he was in, and looks back at me.

"Um- yeah. Yeah, let's go." He takes a sharp turn and opens the door with force, eager to get this over with.

•••

The drive was silent. Both of us completely dreading what was to come next, we just sat there. I drove, for JJ was in no shape to even be behind a wheel. He talked about taking his bike, but I wouldn't let him. His hands were practically shaking.

I knew why he wanted to go alone. He didn't want us to see this side of his life. We all knew about it, or at least knew enough to understand the situation. But we had never witnessed it. Never understood why his dad would do it. And most of us had never experienced it. We all had our at home lives, but everyone shared it. JJ didn't.

•••

jj

I wouldn't have minded if it was Kie that drove me. I was also perfectly fine to have gone by myself, Z's just paranoid.

I look down at my hands, which are shaking.

Maybe she isn't paranoid.

I'll say it. I didn't want her to take me.

I didn't want her to be around an abusive home anymore than shes already had to. She shouldn't be here.

I start to fiddle with my rings as she pulls into the driveway of the property I once called home. Z puts the car in park and leans back in her seat, letting out a small, quiet sigh. I can feel her looking at me. Waiting. Worrying.

I look out of the passenger window at the shitty, familiar house.

"Home sweet home." I say sarcastically, tearing my eyes from the house, and back onto my hands.

"Do you want me to come? Cause I'll come." Zia says kindly.

I quickly shake my head no.

"No, no. I'll be fine." I reach behind the seat and grab my backpack.

She eyes my backpack, her face scared.

I laugh. "Z, I'm not gonna shoot him, relax."

She lets out a breath and laughs.