Together

107. Forgive me

When oblivion

Is calling out your name

You always take it further

Than I ever can

-Bastille

The Twinkie rolls up on Figure Eight, and John B quietly parks on the opposite side of the street from Kie's house. Rolling up to the Carrera's driveway didn't strike either of them as the best plan considering the time of night. They'd be lucky if the neighborhood watch didn't run up on them in a golf cart and chase them off, honestly.

The house is calm, every light is off, minus the outdoor lamps on the garage. It's almost too peaceful to disturb—not that JJ wanted to do that necessarily. Actually the longer they sit watching the joint the more anxious he becomes about this.

JJ knew Kie's parents were undoubtedly pissed at her. At them. Him, actually. Definitely more mad at him. He's sure she got a good lecture, but Mike's gaze landed on him like a sniper looking down the eye of his rifle. They all knew who started this shit.

Of course, Luke was really the one responsible for things going to complete and utter hell. He didn't have to swing or do eighty percent of the shit he did leading up to and through it. That didn't change the fact that JJ was the one to step directly in front of a speeding train.

It was JJ that dragged Kie out into the middle of the night for days to watch Luke. JJ that told her to stay in the truck instead of just driving her back home. JJ that got himself pinned on the ground, leaving her no choice but to fight for him. All made him sick.

"Dude, you good?" John B checks, taking his gaze off the house to look back at him.

JJ pushes out a breath, nodding while he gets out of the van. He makes it about ten feet before turning around and coming right back. He shuts the door, scratching the back of his neck.

"What's up?" John B asks.

"I can't get to her window."

"Come on, she's not gonna lock you out," his friend assures.

They'd talked on the way over about JJ's fears for the last minute meet up. He was worried that she wasn't going to want to talk to him. Evidence being that she'd not answered a single text or call from him despite her obviously having access to the emergency phone to contact John B.

She could also be asleep at this point, not that he cared about that too much. Not like either of them haven't climbed into the other's bed unknowingly in the middle of the night.

"No, like I seriously can't get up there, like physically," JJ explains. "I could barely get you into my room, there's no way I can scale a house right now."

His injuries from the fight weren't small. Pretty sure he may have popped a rib. That and his head was killing him. Being slammed repeatedly in the face a month after recovering from a concussion wasn't exactly doctor approved. Even if his body could handle the climb up there, he's not sure he wouldn't see stars and black out before reaching the top.

John B nods with understanding. "Okay, then, let's call her down," he problem solves.

JJ sighs, feeling more defeated with every second. He'd texted her on their way over, asking if she was still up. And not in a sexual way. Get your head out of the gutter, this was strictly about checking in. In either case,

"She's not answering me, dude."

John B purses his lips, reaching in his back pocket and pulling out his cell. He presses the call button over Kie's contact and turns his body to face her house, like he could see her into her window from here. He can't, the window JJ climbs up to is on the other side of the house, and JJ rolls his eyes.