❝Oh, Oakley. . . What have you done?❞
Well, they say it's best to start at the beginning, but when the story gets so twisted and out of hand, who really knows where the beginning starts?
The Outer Banks is not the paradise Earth talks about. It's n...
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OAKLEY AND JJ HAVE GONE QUITE INSANE. Maybe they haven't noticed it just yet, or perhaps they've only ever known their own absurdity to be able to maturely process how little sense they're making with the plan that's approaching. It's been three hours since they stole Ricky's ambulance, and it still hasn't been enough time to hopefully punch some sense into them. Their brains are still certain that there's no other way rather than this obtusely schemed plan, and their consciences are wholeheartedly convinced that it's flawless enough for nothing to go wrong. They're two foolish teens thinking they can bail their best friend out of jail with a little mental schema and a few kleptomaniac strategies.
And as chaos looms closer, the girl is thankful for the brief— Well, not very brief— nap they'd decided to take, given the fact the dissipating effects of the drugs were giving her a pounding headache and twisting her mood into a rather unapproachable one. They had left her feeling dazed and out of it, like rising above clouds just to be dropped back on hard ground without a parachute. She knew it would be no good to pull through the horrid feeling they'd left once they fulfilled their purpose inside her bloodstream, the nagging headache and the overthrowing drowsiness were making her feel aloof and uneasy, so, as any normal human being would, she decided to sleep it off.
It's currently ten at night, and the two have the truck parked somewhere behind one of the old buildings right between the Cut and Figure Eight. They'd used the free hours to— Other than take a nap— chat, polish the details and calculate possible deviations in the plan— Even though the plan is a deviation as a whole. But as the time approaches, Oakley figures it might be best to change into the scrubs and get the show on the road. Their schedules must be strict if they want it all to go as smoothly as they've been wishing for, and everyone knows Pogues don't usually have roads cleared for them.
Oakley releases a sigh and presses the button on the side of the seat, causing the backrest to fly forward as she shifts her body to look at JJ, "Alright, we should change and be ready,"
Rolling his head to look at her, the boy tiredly groans and extends his hand out to her, "Five more minutes, I promise,"
Oakley rolls her eyes when his head slumps forward and sleep takes over his body again, "JJ, are you joking? This isn't procrastinating Kumon, we're bailing John B out of jail, we have to be fully prepared,"
JJ groans again, "It's early! It's early. . ." his voice dies into a whisper and the girl turns forward and drops her body against the seat frustratedly.
But then an idea pops into mind and she slowly turns her body towards him again, "I've always wanted to make out in the back of an ambulance," she states dreamily, eyes looking up thoughtfully.
JJ's eyes snap open, and a smirk grows on Oakley's lips when she glances down and notices this.
"But I probably won't ever be in an ambulance with my boyfriend again, alone, in the middle of an abandoned street, with time to spare. . ."
