𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐃𝐄 - 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

CHAPTER ONE.

chapter one
❛ suck it ❜

❝GET THAT ONE JOHN B, before I do!" Sunday called out to her best friend.

They were sat on their boards waiting for the perfect wave to roll in. Sunday had snagged a few waves and now was waiting for John B to get at least one more good wave before they called it a day.

"Watch this!" He looked over his shoulder at the blonde girl, smugly.

She raised one leg out of the water and rested it on her board as she played with her anklet, watching as John B lined up for the wave.

"Don't stack it!" She called out just before the wave reached him. He quickly raised the bird to her then began paddling.

The brunette boy paddled fast, trying to get ahead of the wave before it crashed over, sending him forwards. He stands up with a grin on his face as he rode it all the way into the shore.

Running out of the water with his board dragging behind, he turns back to Sunday and jumps around cheering. "Suck it!"

She rolled her eyes playfully and paddled in.

"That's 8 on 2, Johnny boy." She gives him a little shrug as she walks past patting his wet back.

They drop their boards onto the sand and pick up their towels, drying themselves off.

"So, JJ went to grab some drinks and we were gonna head to that new house being built up in figure 8 to chill for a bit." He tells her.

"Sounds good." Sunday nods. JJ was probably stealing drinks like usual and wouldn't be surprised if he cracked hers open to spit in or poison it.

"He won't spit in your drink again." John B chuckles softly, reading her mind.

"Let's hope!" She huffs and lifts her bag onto her shoulder and grabs her board.

The two throw their boards into the back of John B's old, rusted down Volkswagen van also known as The Twinkie.

After jumping in and slamming the doors shut, they make their way back to the Chateau to drop their things off and change.

Sunday looks out the window with her sandy feet propped up on the dash board, her golden hair drying off in the wind and John B's glasses sliding over her eyes to shield the blazing summer sun, bearing down on the Outerbanks.

She reaches into the centre compartment that was barely holding together, and picks out her many pieces of jewelry that she took off earlier before they went in the water.

Slipping in two earrings on either side and one in her cartilage then hooking on her silver and black patterned cuff, she then picks up her necklace, clipping it around her neck to sit with her black tied choker with a little shark tooth that doesn't leave her neck.

"I don't know how you keep track of all those." John B looks over at her for a second before looking back at the road.

"Simple." She shrugs as she slips on all her bracelets and slips on her two rings; a blue and silver one, and a classic wave ring that she got from the local markets a year ago.

They hum along to the song playing on the radio, tapping their hands to the beat with small smiles on their faces.

This summer was going to be different.

The group of friends all talked about how they think this summer feels unlike all the others they've shared together. Maybe it's the fact that they're getting older, have more responsibilities to uphold but also much more freedom. Well, it's not like Sunday had anyone there to hold her back from doing anything in the past.

Pulling up to the Chateau, they jump out and round the van to the back to pull their sand covered boards out and onto the grass in the front lawn.

"You gonna shower?" John B asks, glancing at her for a second before setting his board against a tree.

She twists her lips to the side thinking. "Yeah, gimme a minute."

"Alright. Do you have a change of clothes or do you need to borrow something?"

"Grab me something. I'll be right back." She tells him and makes her way into the house.

John B cares for her immensely. He cares for all of them, of course, but when it comes to Sunday Whitlock, the boy will do anything for her. She's the little sister he never had.

Only being 4 months older than her, he still treats her like she's the lost kid he found wondering the road in front of his house with tears in her eyes some odd years ago.

That's the only time he has ever seen the blonde cry. The night she was dropped at her uncles house by her mother in the middle of the night with nothing but the clothes on her back only to never see nor hear from the woman ever again.

Being the curious little boy John B was, he slowly made his way over to her, scared that he'd frighten her. She was only small. He thought she was around 6 or 7 years old but was shocked to later find out that she was in fact his age.

The big ol' age of 8.

When he greeted her, she did in fact get a bit of a fright but she quickly wiped away the last tears John B would ever see the girl shed and flashed the unfamiliar boy a smile.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine, yes!" Her small, shaky voice speaks as she looked around trying to figure out her surroundings.

"You don't live around here do you?" Little John B asked with a frown.

"No, I don't." She shakes her head making her two blonde plaits flop side to side.

"Are you lost? Do you want to come to my Chateau? It's a bit cold out here." He looked down at her bare feet on the cold road.

"Um," she glanced around again. "What's a Chateau?" she asked tilting her head.

"It's my magical castle full of anything you could ever imagine." He explains in a mystical voice making the small girl crack a smile, showing her small teeth with two missing ones in the front.

"Yes please." She nodded.

With that, John B takes her hand and guides her to his house a few feet away from where they were standing.

From then on, the two were best friends. Two peas in a pod. Thick as thieves. Sleepovers almost every night at the Chateau, listening to the many, many stories Big John would tell them before they fell into peaceful sleep with dreams full of The Royal Merchant.

         . . .

John B passes Sunday a shirt that was much too big for her small frame then passes her some shorts that definitely didn't belong to him.

"Ew, JB. Are these one of your hookups' booty shorts?" She grimaced, holding the pink shorts between her pinched fingers.

"You bet," He grinned. "They're clean though, don't worry."

She sighed and slid them on only for them to come right up to her ass, hugging it tight and surely letting some slip out. These were tiny.

"JB, these are so small." She complained.

"Either these or my used ones." He holds up a pair of shorts that have clearly not been washed in months.

"I'll stick to the booty shorts." She mumbled to herself.

Throwing the t-shirt on, she was glad to see it fall down over her ass so it wasn't exposed anymore.

"Alright, let's head." John B says as he shags his hair about with his hand making the water fly everywhere.

They jump back in The Twinkie and make their way to where the house was getting constructed in the oh-so-fancy figure 8.

A/N
Thank you for reading!
I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am writing it. Don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts on this chapter! It helps a lot :)