𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑! [𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊]

chapter two.

CRUEL SUMMER!
chapter two.

( i see the look in your eyes and i'm biting my tongue. )

                        The marsh is closed until further notice. Police are occupied looking for Scooter Grubbs' boat, which apparently, somehow, happens to be an expensive Grady White. While it's to be expected for people to be willing to go to extremes measures trying to find it, I do find it strange that police decided to close off the marsh. Usually they aren't shy about asking the public for help. To conduct a private search like this, it has to be for a reason, one that notably peaks my interest.

Pink clouds are just beginning to adorn the cool toned sky, and the sun paints the island with an orange tinge as the afternoon unfolds. It shines through my bedroom window, encompassing my room with the muted brightness.

It's hours before JJ should even consider showing up at my house. He never comes over when daylight is out, and yet - here he is. Completely unannounced, he's sitting on the revolving chair at my desk and obnoxiously swaying the seat with his feet. I shouldn't be surprised, and perhaps I'm not, but I'm neither pleased.

He still hasn't told me why he's here. All I can do is sit on the edge of my bed and watch him expectantly as he happily scrapes the wheels of the chair against my floor.

Witnessing another deliberate sway, onward in my direction, I decide I've had enough. I lean forward and grab onto the arms of the chair, putting an abrupt end to the racket.

He staggers in his seat and looks up at me with wide eyes for a moment, looking slightly startled. As he takes in my frown and distasteful expression, he lets out a huff.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him, instead blinking blankly as my hands remain clutched onto the armrests. "Is there a reason that you're here right now?"

Another huff, as well as an eye roll. "Does your dad have scuba gear?" He asks, so casually that for a moment I think he's deflecting my question.

Settling back onto my spot on the bed, I cross my arms over my chest and regard him closely. He already looks stumped, like he knows I won't be giving anything up easily.

Knowing this, I tilt my head at him and furrow my eyebrows questioningly. "Why?"

He scowls, slumping back in the chair. "Does he?"

Now I do roll my eyes at his insistence.

Fine, but you're an idiot if you think I'm not getting more out of you.

"He has gear. And one tank."

His features instantly perk up, sitting back up in his seat and eagerly nodding his head. "That's perfect. Can I borrow it? I'll bring it all back."

I narrow my eyes at him. Scuba gear? Could he be trying to look for the sunken Grady White? But diving? That would take ages, and he said that one tank would be perfect. That would only ever work if—

Ah. I see.

A strange recognization of approval harbors within me as I look up him, my eyebrows raising ever so slightly. "Why do you need it?"

He looks away, a vision of reluctance clouding his features. His knee bounces, and he brings a hand to his mouth to unconsciously chew at his nails. An odd sense of satisfaction flows through me, leaving me unbothered to hide the smile prompting at my lips. No matter how long it's been, no matter how much he tries to convince himself otherwise, it's obvious that there's still an unwilling part of him that doesn't trust me.