riptide- outer banks

twenty-seven | grieving is overrated anyway

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My Druthers sat on the water, rocking back and forth against the dock. Logan could see it from his bedroom window, his eyes pinned on the damn boat. He brought a hand up to his skull, his other rubbing away at the exhaustion in his eyes.

A terrible feeling was still lodged in the back of his throat, making it hard for him to even function properly. He'd gone to school this morning and acted like everything was fine, but it couldn't have been farther from the truth.

No, whatever had happened last night hadn't left his mind.

He'd had a hard time falling asleep, unable to clear his mind. It was too jumbled these days with everything that had happened and was still going on. He'd been scrolling aimlessly on his phone, trying to shut down his thoughts when his older brother's muffled voice caught his attention. Logan had snapped his head to his open window, quickly making his way to it upon hearing more grunts.

That's when he saw them— his dad and brother carrying a large black bag directly to their boat on the dock. Then his eyes had shifted down to the bag, the realization that it was shaped like a body hitting him like a semi.

After seeing what he had and watching his dad speed away in My Druthers, Logan hadn't been able to sleep. He didn't even know if what he'd seen was real or if it actually was a dead body, but he wouldn't put it past either of them— not after the last two weeks.

So he didn't go back to sleep. He had to be up in two hours anyway for school, so Logan had gotten up and gone downstairs to workout. Anything to distract him from what could have occurred last night. All he knew was that someone probably died and his dad was the one responsible for it.

His phone suddenly buzzed on his desk, causing him to jump. Logan exhaled and took the remaining steps to it, picking it up in his hands. His eyes were immediately narrowing at the new text from an unknown number. Who would be texting him that he didn't know?

Logan hesitantly opened the message, his gaze contracting even more.

UNKNOWN: hey, bubba. Z has news. miss you

Logan brought his phone closer to his eyes, swallowing hard. Z as in Wheezie? He hadn't called her that since they were kids. Before Wheezie, Lousia was Z. Only him and Sarah had called her that though.

Utter confusion filled his chest as his heart palpitated in his chest. There was only one person who could've sent that message.

Without another thought, Logan darted to his door and opened it, stepping out into the hall. As quickly as he'd left his room, though, his arm was being yanked back inside— little Z pressing her back into his door.

Before he could say anything, she brought a hand up to her lips, silencing him. "Shhh!"

"Wheez, what's going on?" Logan questioned, holding his phone up for her to see the message.