Catching the Waves~ JJ Maybank ᣵ¹&ᣵ²

Chapter Sixty One. [S2]

[Rory's outfit]

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Rory~

THE van was filled with the quiet hum of the engine as we pulled up  on the side of the road a little away from the bonfire party, everyone still reeling from the fight. John B was slumped against the passenger seat, pressing an ice pack to his jaw while Kie sat silently in the front, her face lit up by the dashboard's faint glow. Carter, calm as always, was behind the wheel, keeping his eyes on the road, even though we weren't going anywhere as for now.

Me? I was sprawled out on the leather seat in the back, my head resting in Pope's lap--who was pressing a cold beer to his forehead-- as I smoked a blunt that I pulled out JJ's bag. I stared up at the ceiling, counting the scuffs and marks as if they could somehow help me make sense of the mess we were all in as the smoke from the weed swirled in the air.

I could hear the low hiss of beers cracking open, and Pope, bless his awkward heart, was patting my arm like that would soothe the knots of frustration winding tighter in my chest. He's such an awkward goofball, I seriously adore him for trying to give me some sort of comfort while we sat in this silence. 

John B and Pope, with their faces swollen and bruises already blooming under their skin, looked like they'd gone a few rounds in a boxing ring. JJ was outside, leaning against the van's open door, drinking another beer as he burped softly. His eyes darted over the rest of us as if trying to read the room, but let's be real—there was nothing easy to read about tonight.

"Well, that was a little unexpected," JJ said, his tone light as he tried to break the ice that had settled in the van. His attempt was about as effective as a matchstick in a snowstorm.

Kie scoffed, throwing a sarcastic look over her shoulder. "Was it though?"

I couldn't help but snort, bitterness lacing my voice as I chimed in. "We can't have a single night without drama. God forbid we act like normal teenagers for once." My voice was bitter, tinged with exhaustion. I didn't even try to mask it anymore. 

JJ's eyes flicked over to me, and even though I wasn't looking directly at him, I could feel his concern. But he didn't say anything, just took another swig from his beer.

John B was the quietest of us all, which, honestly, was unsettling. He was brooding, sinking deeper into his thoughts with every passing minute. His face was written with regret and sorrow, but I knew it wasn't just about the fight. It was about Sarah—everything that had gone down between them. His entire world had been unraveling for days, and now it was like he didn't know where to start putting the pieces back together.

JJ noticed too. He pushed off from the door, throwing the now empty beer can to the side. "Hey, maybe she'll come around," he offered, his voice softer now as he tried to comfort John B.