❝Lai, you're really pushing your luck tonight.❞
❝Luck is for the weak, J. I prefer calculated risks.❞
෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ ෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄෴
forget quadratic equations; Laia's equation is more like "Revenge = Fun + Chaos."
armed with sarcasm, a knack for misch...
' Ah, serious is my middle name, right after Sarcasm and Procrastination.'
CAGED UP LIKE A BIRD.
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"
the night we met - lord huron
i had all and then most of you,
some and now none of you,
take me back to the night we met,
i don't know what i'm supposed to do.
"
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OUTER BANKS.
LAIA'S POV
A week and a couple of days after the escapade that had John B and Sarah doing their best Houdini impression, I found myself smack dab in the middle of Figure Eight. Surrounding me were the snobbiest Kooks, shedding crocodile tears over a freshly dug grave.
The scene was like a Shakespearean tragedy, if Shakespeare had written about entitled people and beachside burials.
"Though she has now departed, let us honor her bravery and sacrifice in the line of duty." The minister droned on, and the Kooks sniffled and dabbed at their eyes with monogrammed handkerchiefs.
I couldn't help but wonder if they were mourning the sheriff or the inconvenience of having to find a new person to keep their beach parties in check. The tears flowed like an overzealous sprinkler system, and I couldn't decide if it was more entertaining or tragic.
Meanwhile, I stood there, contemplating the absurdity of it all, in the midst of the Kooks' melodramatic display. Rest in peace, Sheriff Susan Peterkin, guardian of the sandcastle. May your afterlife be free of noise complaints and underage drinking citations.
