She hated him. She hated him more than she ever thought possible. He was a kook- her natural born enemy.
He didn't hate her at all. Not one bit. It couldn't have been farther from the truth. Did she know that? No- and she never would.
-
"You and I...
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〰⋅〰⋅〰
Kori's brow was drawn tightly together, eyes focused only on the screen of her phone. She wasn't confused or anything like— actually, maybe she was. To be honest, everything about her whole friendship with Jayden Fisher was an anomaly.
First, he randomly gets her number in math.
Second, he starts calling her 'Maybank.'
Then, he partners up with her for the exit ticket.
Lastly, he invites her to the bonfire.
And that was what confused her. It'd been weeks since he'd gotten her number, which was the part that she didn't understand. Did he like her? If so, why had he taken his sweet time in asking her out. Plus, she didn't like desperate guys, and Jayden was kind of screaming 'Desperate Guy.' The whole thing was just flat out confusing.
JAYDEN: still up for the bonfire tn?
Kori kept her gaze on the message. It's not like she didn't have eyes or anything. He was pretty cute, and she was always down for a good time, but what she wanted was to know what he was thinking. Not knowing how he felt was what made her feel completely—
"Kori!" Pope exclaimed, finally able to get her attention.
The blonde lifted her head, eyes going round. "Hmm?"
"Are you even paying attention?"
Her brow snapped together. "Yeah. Yeah. Big-ass cross, crew was robbed and left to die, Limbrey's a greedy bitch. I miss anything?"
Pope just blinked. Twice. "Nope. That about covers it."
There was a pause.
"So it didn't go off Bermuda." JJ voiced, flicking his lighter from the couch he lay on.
"And it was a Limbrey, stealing shit, again." Kie added.
"This diary proves that both the gold and the Cross of Santo Domingo were on the Royal Merchant." Pope explained, gripping the weathered book in his hands.
"Why didn't we find it in the well then?" JJ questioned.
"Because it was too big." John B answered, glancing at Pope for assurance.
"You're right. He had to hide it someplace else."
"Okay. Where?" Kie asked, slightly shrugging her shoulders.
"Right before he was hung, Denmark said he'd buried the treasure at the foot of the angel." Pope remarked.
"Okay, so we have the key— a clue we don't know how to use. We have the diary— which is written in literal code. And we have the island room— a place described in a stupid riddle by your second great grandpa." Kori deadpanned.
