𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒
and the Kooks
have no other choice than
living together, sharing
the same island. But this summer,
rivalries reached a peak, and
there's no going back.
In which Margot Maybank tries to fix her brother's mistakes, but not everyt...
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Outer Banks, the beach August 1st, 2020 9:33pm
Music blasted through the speakers, people danced and drank everywhere, and honestly, I couldn't think of a better way to forget about my problems. The boys were already deep into a beer pong game with tourists when Kiara and I arrived at the party. A few guys glanced our way as she handed me a drink, and we stood there watching our friends from afar, laughing every time they missed a shot.
We couldn't hide forever, or stay home like Rafe had instructed me. We knew we wouldn't find solutions by lying in bed with our arms crossed. The blame was ours, and deep down, we all knew that. We had to fix it, and fast.
"Do you think they're anxious?" Kiara asked, eyes still on the boys.
"They don't seem to be, but I think they're just pretending," I replied.
"Yeah, probably. I didn't sleep at all last night. I was so scared Barry would show up at my house. I asked my dad for money this morning, but he said whatever mess we're in isn't his problem," she sighed.
"Of course he did. JJ needs to get a job already, he's a grown man," I said, and she nodded in agreement.
"You're right. But it's not fair that they're having fun, and we're not. If we die tomorrow, I at least want to enjoy tonight," she laughed, grabbing my arm as we walked into the crowd.
The sunset bathed the beach in gold, casting a soft glow on the groups dancing near the bonfire. Everyone partied together, drinking, flirting, and losing themselves in the night. I grabbed more drinks, chugging them down one after another, feeling them slowly take the edge off my worries.
Suddenly, I felt someone grab my waist and pull me close, making me chuckle. I turned around to see a tall, blonde guy with a dazzling smile. He laughed at his own boldness, his eyes scanning me in a way that made me feel both vulnerable and, oddly, desirable.
"Can I get you another drink?" he asked, his tone smooth.
"I haven't even finished this one," I giggled, even though it wasn't that funny, because I was already tipsy.
He watched me take the last few sips of my drink, then went to grab another for me. Taking my hand, he led me away from the crowd where we could hear each other better. I wasn't the type to flirt with random guys at parties, let alone let them get too close, but the alcohol clouded my judgment. His hands started running up and down my body, caressing my back, my arms, and I could feel myself losing control.
"Hey-wh-what's your name again?" I slurred, trying to push him away gently.
"Josh," he replied, still holding me close.
"You're not gonna ask for mine?" I asked, feeling a little hurt that he didn't seem to care who I was.
"I'm not much of a talker," he said, brushing off my question.
