BOOK 1 [with seasons 1 & 2]
Aurora "Rory" Routledge is not just your average Outer Banks teen-she's John B's twin sister and the perfect partner-in-crime for summer adventures. Alongside their tight-knit group of best friends-JJ, Pope, and Kie-the R...
You're not alive until you start kicking When the room is spinning and the words aren't sticking And the radio's all about a runaway model With a face like sin and a heart like a James Joyce novel
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But the boys in the better land You're always talking 'bout the boys in the better land The boys in the better land
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Rory~
THE minutes that followed Ricky's words were suffocatingly silent, each one dragging on as we waited, breathless, for some sign of life from Pope.
The air was thick with dread, an invisible weight pressing down on everyone's shoulders as they hovered around the table where Pope lay, still and unmoving.
Seven sets of eyes stayed glued to him, each face marked by the same anxiousness, restlessness stirring up from some place deep and unrelenting. Pope's body lay limp, as if carved from stone. He didn't so much as twitch. Not even the slightest movement of his chest, though we searched for it desperately, each of us hoping to catch a glimpse of a rise or fall.
I felt my heart in my throat, thundering so wildly that I wondered if anyone else could hear it. Every dreadful possibility flooded through my mind, and it felt like a churning sea of worst-case scenarios, each one more brutal than the last.
Across from me, Kie's face contorted, her blank expression cracking as fury and disbelief contorted her features. "You killed him," she spat, her eyes fixed on Pope with a ferocity that burned.
Ricky held up his hands, trying to tread carefully. "No," he replied, his voice calm but cautious.
Kie's glare snapped to him, her eyes blazing. "Yes, you did," she hissed, stepping forward, every inch of her screaming accusation.
"Kie..." Carter murmured, reaching out as if he could soothe her anger, but she shook her head, shrugging him off, her stance defiant.
"I didn't do shit," Ricky replied, still maddeningly calm, his gaze steady even in the face of Kie's fury.
"What did you do?" Kie's voice wavered, but her anger only sharpened as she took another step toward him, her voice rough and fraying with worry.
"Kie, please—" My own voice came out broken, barely more than a whisper, tears blurring my vision.
"I did exactly what you asked me to," Ricky's tone didn't falter, and that calmness only seemed to pour fuel on Kie's rage.
Kie's eyes rolled in frustration, and she turned back to Pope, kneeling down and gripping his arm. Her desperation was heart-wrenching, a painful plea. "Please, please. Pope. C'mon." Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down my cheek, my heart breaking as I watched her beg.
