𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝚬 𝐒𝚬𝐂𝐑𝚬𝐓, ʲᵒʰⁿ ᵇ ʳᵒᵘᵗˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ

xxii. wrong side of the bed

XXII. WRONG SIDE OF THE BED

"where is he?" pope groaned. "i got my scholarship interview tomorrow."

"this is fun!" holly yelled from where kie and her tested the winch strength.

"speak of the devil," jj laughed as john b walked into the yard. "hey!"

"hey," briar walked up to him. "how was fishing? good catch?"

he brushed by her, sending her stumbling into the swing.

"woah," the girl gasped. "what the fuck is up with you?"

"somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed," holly snapped.

"dude, i set up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything," jj bragged.

"no, he did not," pope yelled. "i did that."

"hey," kie tried to stop the routledge boy.

"okay, that's it?" jj asked, obviously confused.

"uh. . . what's that all about?" pope asked.

briar rolled her eyes and shrugged. "his pregnancy hormones are getting to him."

"i was gonna ask you the same question," jj looked at pope.

the pogues followed john b inside to see him rattling through drawers in a panic.

"you all right, man? what's up?" pope asked.

"what are you looking for?" kie said curiously.

"bro, what's going on?" jj snapped.

"what is up with you?" briar half-yelled. and then her boyfriend pulled the gun from under the couch cushions.

"john b," jj gasped. "what do you need the gun for?"

"think this through," holly said quickly.

"talk to us!" jj insisted. john b threw jj down onto the pullout sofa.

"john b, chill!" kie yelled. "what are you doing?"

"what, are you jj now?" pope screamed in his face. john b threw pope into a table.

"john b," briar yelled, following him. "what the fuck?"

"what the hell are you doing?" kie followed briar quickly. the girls shared a look, both clearly confused by the situation at hand.