Juliette Thornton. A rich spoiled girl from Figure Eight who's never had to fight for something in her life.
JJ Maybank. A lowlife from the cut who's barely scraping by.
What happens when world's collide?
jj maybank x oc
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Compass? Like.. the one John B found? I shrug off the weird coincidence and head up to my bedroom.
As I walk into the dimmed lit room, I notice a small black splotch on the floor, which stood out considering my whole room is plated in white carpet. I flip on my light switch for a better look, seeing the dot was in-fact not black, but red.
Blood. Blood from when my own boyfriend dug his fingernails into my neck. Blood from when my own boyfriend choked me so hard I couldn't breathe.
I take a heavy breath before flipping the switch back off. I couldn't bear to see the sight of it.
I quickly undress myself before hopping into the shower. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. I sat in the tub for hours, trying to get rid of the feeling of my first love strangling me.
☆
"Juliette, baby."
"Jules!"
"Juliette!"
"Leave me alone." I mutter, rolling over in my bed.
"Honey, there's two boys at the front door saying they need to see you." Mrs Thornton says calmly, her hand gently rubbing my back.
"What time is it?" I mumble.
"1pm, dear. You slept in late." My mom says with a chuckle.
"Jesus christ." I roll my eyes as I slump out of bed, adjusting my cami top and pajama shorts as I run down the stairs.
I open the door, not expecting what I was about to see. "I swear to god if you-" My eyes widen as I pull a hand to my mouth.
"Oh my god, Pope." I whisper, moving to the side so the two boys can enter my home.
I seat the two boys on my living room couch as I search the drawers for a first aid kit.
"Sick house, Julie." I hear JJ speak up.
"What kind of shit did you two get into?" I ask worriedly as I rush back to Pope with the kit. I kneel in-front of him, using a cloth the wipe the blood off his face.
"Well to sum things up, your crazy boyfriend and your equally as crazy brother jumped Pope." JJ shrugs, patting Pope's back as he sinks into the couch.
"Oh my god." I mutter, applying ice to the injured boy's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Pope, I'll try to talk to the-"
"Don't. We already got our revenge." Pope says quietly.
