Outer Banks (JJ Maybank x Reader) Book 1

The Kegger

"Who's that?" JJ whispers next to me, looking at the dead body they just brought in on a stretcher. "It's Scooter Grubbs," I whisper back, shocked. "He was out during the storm," A random girl says from beside us, trying to watch the action. "Check out this pic I got," She grins, showing John B and Pope. JJ just shoots me a side eye and I smirk. "Dead body," She sings excitedly.

"Holy shit," John B says. JJ lifts his chin slightly, thinking. "What kind of boat did he have?" He asks, raising one arm to rest against the frame above us. "Somehow that dirtbag copped a brand-new Grady-White," She sighs. I turn, making eye contact with JJ. "Everyone's out looking for it," She continues.

~~~~~~~

"Okay, so, um... we didn't see anything," Pope says breathlessly as he walks onto the screen-in porch at the Château. "We don't know anything," He continues, pointing at all of us. "We need to have total and complete amnesia," He says, nodding to himself. "Actually, Pope's right for once," JJ says. "See I agree with you sometimes," He says, patting my leg and standing up to face Pope.

"Deny, deny, deny," He says, pointing at Pope, then Kie, then me. "Guys we can't keep that money," Kiara says. "Okay. Not all of us can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara," JJ sighs. "We have to pass that off to Lana Grubbs," She argues. "Otherwise, it's bad karma."

"Bad karma to be implicated in a felony, too," Pope says nervously. "We gotta go dark," He concludes. "If that means we get to keep the money, than I agree," I shrug. JJ grins at me with a nod. "I don't agree," John B says, shooting me a pointed looks. "What?" JJ asks. "Why?" I ask.

"Just think about it," He says, pausing to pace the length of the porch. "This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Same dude that's buying individual cigarettes at the Porthole. Shit, one time I saw this dude begging for change in the Save-A-Lot parking lot because he needed gas," John B rants. "We're talking about a dirtbag marina rat who's never had more than 40 bucks in his pocket, and all the sudden he's got a Grady-White? Just sayin'," He finishes with a sigh.

~~~~~~

"Alright, so think about it Pope," John B says again as Pope casts his line into the water. "My money's on Pope," I whisper to JJ. "You're on," He smirks. "How does a marina rat get a Grady-White?" John B asks. Pope inhales sharply. "Prostitution," He says. "Square groupers, bro," John B says. "Okay, flying under the radar, no aerial surveillance, they don't do that stuff during a hurricane," He says. "What does that mean? JJ?" He says, pointing to us as JJ tosses his rod in again.

"They were straight smugglin'," He says, smirking at me. "Smugglin'," John B says matter of factly. "And I guarantee there's a serious amount of contraband in that wreck," He finishes. "Hell, yeah," JJ mutters as his rod jerks. "Fish on!" He shouts, reeling in the fish he caught while I slap five bucks into his hand with a sigh.

~~~~~~~~

JJ hands Pope the money, dangling it to try and prove his point. Pope snatches it, leaning back on my bed. "For the record, if that is a smuggling ship, with illegal contraband on the inside of it... it probably belongs to someone else," He continues. "Minor details," Kie frowns from my desk chair. "They could come looking for it," He says, ignoring her.

"Taking it would be catastrophically stupid," He says. "Right. Well, stupid things have good outcomes all the time," JJ says, taking the money back and leaning onto my window sill before pulling me against him. "Don't they darlin'?" He smirks with a country accent.

I push him away and walk to the door. "Look, all we need to do right now is just figure out a way to get into the cargo hold of that wreck," I tell them. "Until then we just lay low, act normal," I say, about to leave the room. "Right... and how exactly do we do that?" Pope sighs. I freeze, turning back around and catching Kiara's eye. "Kegger?" We suggest at the same time.

~~~~~~

"Tally-ho," John B laughs in an Australian accent as I help him carry the barrel to the center of the beach. "Hey-up!" I shout, lifting it into two hands to pass it over a large piece of driftwood to JJ. We set it on the beach and Kie tosses me the nozzle, Pope opening the bag of solo cups.

We laugh and joke around, spraying beer into each others faces. John B fills a cup with beer from the keg until it overflows, offering it to Pope. "No. Hell no," He laughs, shaking his head. "I'll take it," I say, reaching for it, but before I can take it JJ snatches it from me. I chase him down the beach, shouting and laughing.

Within no time, the boneyard is full of high school students, partying and drinking. You can't understand Outer banks without understanding the Boneyard. It's kind of like a three-layer burrito. There's us and our friends, the working-class derelicts from the cut, then there are the kooks, the rich second-homers. They're mostly from poncey-ass boarding schools, just rich trustafarian posers. Our natural enemies. And then, there are the Tourons. Totally clueless, here for a week on vacation with their families. Chum for the sharks. JJ's favorite kind.

But at the boneyard, we're all just talking and having fun, no matter who you are. "I could show you sometime," The guy I just met, Jack, says to me. He's a local pogue, and his dad works for the Cameron's, one of the richest families in Figure Eight. "Yeah, I mean-," I start, but JJ interupts me, throwing his arm around my shoulder. "There you are...," He drawls, slightly drunk. He kisses my cheek. "Let's go," He snaps, eyes wide. "Oh, I'm sorry, is he your-?" Jack starts to ask, embarrassed. "No," I say before he can finish. "Go find a different hoe," I tell JJ, throwing his arm off my shoulder.

But JJ picks me up anyway, dragging me along the beach with him. "I don't like that guy," He tells me, leaning heavily on my shoulder. "You're drunk," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'm not-," He starts, but a someone shouts from behind us. "Nice ass for a Pogue!" I drunk kook yells. JJ spins, shoving him. "Woah, man," He grins, his beer slopping. "JJ," I warn with a hiss, pulling him back. He wipes his mouth. "What did you say?" He sneers. "JJ," I say again, tugging on his arm. The kook walks up to JJ, pushing him back.

I step in between them. "Hey!" I shout, slapping him lightly. "Come on, we're going," I tell him, putting his arm around my shoulder again so he can lean on me and walking down the beach full of driftwood that looks like bones, hence the name the boneyard. "I wasn't finished with him," JJ growls at me. I roll my eyes. "Pull yourself together," I snap, stopping to face him. He doesn't respond, staring into my eyes. Then, a tear rolls down his cheek.

"JJ?" I ask, searching his eyes. "What? What is it? What's wrong?" I ask frantically. JJ doesn't cry. He turns, wiping his eyes and trying to play it off. "My dad's home from jail again," He says, looking away from me and out at the water. "And I just-," He starts, but I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, pulling him close. He buries his face in my neck, shaking. This is JJ. He doesn't just break down like this.

"Shhh," I whisper, squeezing him tighter. "Don't-," He starts, pulling away from me. I yank him closer, keeping my arms tightly around him. "Shut up," I hiss. When he pulls away again, his face dry, Kiara is walking up to us. "What is she doing here?" She's asking, looking towards the water. We both turn to see Sarah Cameron, the kook princess, sitting on top of a metal buoy that washed ashore. Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade.

John B works on her dad's boats with Jack, and he knows her decently well. "What are you doing?" Sarah's not-so-pleasant boyfriend, Topper, asks, walking up to her. I snarl. Topper actually thinks Pogue's were bred to mow lawns. He reaches his hand out, trying to help her down, but she bats it away. "Let's go," JJ says, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.