Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

seven

As early after noon came, the Pogues were still asleep. They were woken by a knock on the door, which was unusual for the Chateau. Isla looked out the window— shit. It was social services.

Social services had been trying to get John B and Isla to go to foster care. Their uncle was supposed to be living with them, but he wasn't. He was in Mississippi building houses. All they knew was that they could not go into foster care. They would get split up, and probably shipped far from the OBX.

Isla and John B got the others to hide as quickly as possible, and Isla went to open the door as John B tried to hide the variety of booze and weed scattered throughout the place.

'Oh, hi,' Isla said to the woman standing at the door.

'Isla you know why I'm here. Is your brother home?'

'Um yeah.'

The woman stepped inside without asking, examining the place. It was pretty much the messiest it had ever been. It stunk of alcohol.

'Oh hey there,' John B said, picking up trash from the coffee table.

'Listen, you two can't keep living alone like this. I'm on your side— but I really think you need some supervision.'

'Come on, listen Linda. We'll be eighteen in like what, two years? Give or take? What's the point of shipping us off now?' Isla explained.

'If your uncle isn't back tomorrow morning, you two are going to foster care. So figure it out or deal with it,' the woman said, walking out the door once again.

'Fuck,' John B groaned. The others came out of the bathroom where they had hid.

'Dude you've gotta get your uncle's ass to Outerbanks, like, yesterday,' JJ said.

'Kiara, can your parents adopt us?' Isla joked.

'Yeah that would go over well,' Kiara replied.

'What about Heyward, he's like my best friend. He loves me,' Isla suggested next, looking towards Pope with puppy eyes.

'The other day he said you reminded him of the rats that come into his shop and eat all the food.'

'Well we need to figure something out, any ideas John B?'

'I wish I had an idea.'

They heard another car pull in the driveway, this time much more violently. Isla peered out the window to see two large men holding rifles. They yelled out, 'Routledge'.

'John B what the fuck did you do?' she said.

'The compass. They want the fucking compass.' John B ran into his bedroom and grabbed their father's compass, which was what originally led him to Sarah and then the museum until they got to this point.

'So they know about the compass, but not the gold right?' JJ asked.

'No JJ— if they're here looking for the compass they don't know about the gold. We need to get the hell out of here,' John B replied. The group hopped out the window and hid behind the house, knowing it would only be a matter of time before they were spotted.

'We need to make a run for it,' Isla said.

'And what about what they, I don't know, shoot us?'

'3, 2, 1, run!' Isla said, taking off. Everyone followed behind her. She was just the type of person you would follow into a fire, she didn't know that though.