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Outer Banks, Figure-Eight July 7th, 2020 8:14pm
"It's so expensive!" my eyes went wide as they landed on the beer's prices. "Hey, maybe JJ should come back, if you know what I mean"
Kiara laughed softly. "We're not stealing beer, it's fine, I can pay for it," she told me.
I chuckled and grabbed a few beer packs, while she carried a red barrel to make sure we wouldn't lack of beverage. She paid for most of it and I insisted on helping her so she ended up accepting and we left the store, looking like two alcoholic young women, with this amount of beer in our arms. When our bodies were sore from carrying such heavy charges for so long, we sat on a bench and sighed in relief.
We were in the middle of Figure-Eight, where Kiara lived every day of the year, when she wasn't crashing over at our house. People like Kiara lived in huge and luxurious houses, with perfect gardens (quite the opposite of John B and I's) and huge gates to protect their residences from those awful Pogues who did nothing but sneak into their houses and rob. Indeed, Figure-Eight looked very good and pretending those clean and long streets weren't pleasant to look at would have been a lie, but it didn't feel comfortable.
"These rich bitches," I mumbled, making Kiara laugh.
"They built new golf courses in the Country Club. You should have heard Rafe and his crew talking about it," she rolled her eyes to prove her point. "The best thing they had ever experienced"
I giggled, picturing these ridiculous rich boys complimenting some grass area in a stupid way. Maybe they thought the same about the way we spoke about waves, but the difference was, we didn't care about their opinion. As much as they pretended not to see us or care about Pogues, when they heard us mocking them for their attitude, they fought us. Which meant deep down, they cared about our opinion.
"How's it going at home?" Kiara asked me.
I shrugged. "I'm fine, but I know for sure John B is not. That's why I wanted to throw a Kegger so bad," I told her softly.
"Do you still hear him crying?" she sighed.
"No, I mean- JJ's home with us most of the time so it helps John B not to mope around all day," I explained. "He thinks our dad didn't die"
Kiara bit her lower, lip, not sure how to deal with the situation apparently. I didn't mean to make her feel uncomfortable or awkward so I wanted to change the subject but she talked first. "Well, you do too, right?" she breathed out.
I shook my head. "No, I know he's dead or else he would have reached out for us. I just don't think he died in sea like we're supposed to believe," I tried not to sound crazy.
Our dad was the best sailor on the island, right next to Scooter Grubbs, who by the way spent most of his time with him. He has taught John B how to pilot boats, how to survive if he was stuck in the middle of the ocean for days, and we were supposed to believe he had died in sea? He knew the ocean better than anyone else, and he loved his children more than anything else, so he wouldn't have risked his life sailing during a storm if he knew he wouldn't have made it. It just made no sense to me.
