When a shy girl from Figure Eight suddenly gets whisked into a dangerous treasure hunt involving four pogues known for their knack for trouble, she finds herself navigating not only the troubled waters of adventure but also the complexities of frien...
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Sydney let out a soft groan as her eyes fluttered open, instinctively pushing away whatever was brushing against her. "Go away, Sunny," she muttered, trying to sink back into sleep despite the pounding headache building in her temples. The faint sunlight leaking through the curtains stabbed at her eyes like knives, making her wince and bury her face deeper into the blanket.
"Who's Sunny?" a male voice asked, jolting her awake.
Her eyes snapped open, panic clawing up her throat as she realised she wasn't in her own bedroom. She sat up too fast, and the sudden movement sent her stomach lurching. Blinking against the light, she turned to see a boy standing beside the bed, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and concern.
She squinted at him, his face swimming before it clicked into focus. "John B?" she croaked, clutching the blanket tighter against her chest as if it could shield her from the unfamiliarity.
John B frowned. "Sydney Lyons," he mumbled, finally placing her. His confusion only deepened by the second. What was a Kook like her doing here? "What are you doing in my house?"
Sydney's pulse hammered in her ears. Her brain felt like sludge as she scrambled for answers for how she ended up in this situation. "I... I don't know," she stammered, rubbing her temples. Every word seemed to throb against her skull. "The last thing I remember is... the fight, and then everything's is just- blur."
John B sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "You were friends with Kie back at the Academy, right?" Sydney gave a weak nod. "She probably brought you here. I don't remember much after the fight either."
Sydney exhaled a shaky breath, trying to steady herself as she brushed brown hair from her clammy forehead. Her headache pulsed in time with her racing heartbeat. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, noticing the bruise blooming across his eye.
"Yeah, yeah. It's fine," John B muttered, waving it off too quickly. His casual tone didn't quite hide the tension pulling at his shoulders. "Look, I need to talk to Kie and the others. Do you want to stay here until they get back? I'm sure she can give you a ride home."
Sydney hesitated, cheeks warm. She still clutched the blanket like a shield. "That... would be great. Thanks... And I'm really sorry about all this."
John B offered a reassuring a small weary smile. "Don't worry about it," he mumbled, before slipping out of the room.
When the door shut behind him, Sydney finally let herself let out a long breath, trying to calm down. Her chest felt tight, her heart still buzzing with adrenaline, her head swirling with confusion and anxiety. She sagged back against the pillows, scanning the dimly lit room. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the cluttered space. Photos of the Pogues were tacked crookedly on the wall, clothes strewn across the floor, and half finished beer cans cluttered the dresser.
