𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

FIFTY-ONE| bonfire blues

AS always, the bonfire was packed.

Given it was the first party of the school year—as well as one that both Kooks and Pogues attended—it was bound to be full of teens, yet it never failed to surprise Eden as she took in everyone. For once, both sides of the island got along; even if it was just for a few hours over cups of beer and joints.

In the center of the party, as its namesake suggested, there was a bonfire. Cinders floated through the air and the smell of smoke was thick, mixed with the familiar scent of booze and weed, as well as body odor due to the humidity of the night air.

It wasn't a pleasant aroma, to say the least, but to Eden, it was somewhat homey.

Exiting the Twinkie, she was instantly met with a thousand sounds at once—the crackling of the bonfire, the many volumes of conversation and drunken chatter, the revving of a motorcycle, the slamming of car doors—and she's quick to take in familiar faces, smiling at those whom made eye contact with her.

Despite knowing many people—as well as having many people wanting to talk with her— Eden actually didn't socialize a terrible amount at parties. She'd much rather stay and play drinking games with JJ, or listen to John B. drunkenly rant about his current problems then be forced to talk with some boring Kook, or have some tipsy Pogue all over her.

So, falling into old habit, she was immediately drawn to John B.'s side—Kiara and Pope dispersed ahead, by themselves—to which the Routledge wrapped an arm around her, pulling both her and JJ closer.

John B. was first to truly start socializing—he easily got along with others, and fit in with the laid back, party aesthetic. Especially now, after finding and losing a fortune, becoming a fugitive, going to jail, and getting dumped—taking a red solo cup from the first girl who offered with a, "Oh my God, I've missed you so much." 

"Please, you couldn't tell me her name if your life depended on it." Eden scoffed, taking the cup from the Routledge's grasp before he could bring the cups to his lips, bringing it to her own instead. 

"For starters, get your own fucking cup. You're Eden Bexley for a reason." John B. states, grabbing his own cup back, before continuing, "And yes, I could."

JJ lazily chimes in, "Nah, I think Eden's right. Ever since you met Sarah, she's the only girl you seem to know."

"Sarah." Her name rolls off the Routledge boy's tongue sourly, his brain recalling their break-up and his current heartbreak at the mention. "All the sudden, she's like, 'That's it, that's it—' " 

"I know, I know." JJ nodded along—he really wasn't in the mood to hear John B. sulk over his ex, not when they could be getting drunk and partying; meeting new girls. "But, dude, her father blew up right in front of her. Just give her a minute, alright?" He bends down and grabs two beers, handing one to Eden without hesitation, "In the meantime, shot-gun right now. Like the old days, alright?" 

"The old days as in two months ago?" Eden thankfully takes the beer that JJ offered, instinctively taking off the tab. 

"Yes, Eden." JJ smiles, "Exactly that." 

"Well great, because I would love to go back two months ago." The Bexley hums, bringing the can up to her lips. Her words were rather truthful; if she got a singular wish, it would be to go back to then—to when their biggest problem was having a terrible hangover instead of some old powerful lady in Charleston. To when their biggest mystery was finding out who drank the last beer instead of some bedazzled cross and key.