strawberry scented surf wax | obx

s e v e n t e e n

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𝐥𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

"You mind if I just relax on this one?" JJ asks from the backseat, voice muffled due to a joint sticking between his teeth. He brings his lighter up to the end and lights it, breathing in the drug. "It's been a long day and a lot of weird stuff's gone down. I'm just gonna lay low."

I turn my body around to face the boy and send him a look, making him reach his arm out to me, the joint between his fingers. "Oh, did you want a hit of this?" he asks, the top of his cheeks shining in the moonlight.

"I think it's best we keep the signal clear." Pope announces, looking disappointedly at the boy.

"Oh, yeah," I kindly smile, taking the joint. I push it into the centre console, putting it out before throwing it out the passenger window. "Thanks, Sunshine!"

"Lav!" he groans.

"Weed isn't going to help us right now at all, JJ." I tell him, watching as his jaw drops.

"It'll give us a creative mind! If you don't get creative—"

"JJ, shut up," John B cuts him off with a sigh. "Look, back to the issue. I know I was wrong about the Lighthouse and... pretty much wrong about everything else. But I was right about one thing!" the boy exclaims. "My dad is trying to tell me something."

"I mean, yeah." I nod as the others share a look. "Guys, just one more try. If it goes cold again, we can leave it."

John B sends me a kind smile from the drivers seat.

Pope groans. "Okay, but if shit goes sideways again, John B, I swear I'm going to piss in your bedsheets."

"Oh!" I raise my eyebrows. "That wasn't very Pope of you."

"Sounded like something I'd say." JJ adds, high-fiving the boy. "See! Bullying works sometimes!"

• • •

We park the Twinkie in the graveyard parking lot, the five of us taking out our flashlights and turning them on. It was pitch black out now due to the drive being 30 minutes out of the Cut, but it didn't stop us. It was now or never, really.

"Hey, come on." John B says to Kiara who is slowly trailing behind the group of us, looking very uncomfortable.

"I'm coming!" she presses, jogging forward to meet us. "This place is scary."

We enter through the gates of the graveyard, following the path past many different headstones. I glance at the names and notice a few last names from the locals of the OBX, reminding me of how small our community really is.

"You know how you're trying to remember a song and you can't remember who sings it?" John B asks the group of us.

"Yeah?" Kie responds, but it sounds more like a question.

"So, Redfield," he explains as we pass more headstones. "This whole time I thought it was a place, but it's not." he finishes, coming to a stop in front of a large concrete grave that's covered in moss and ivy.

I look up to the top of the stone and point my flashlight at it, the name 'Redfield' written in large letters. "Holy fuck." I chuckle out of disbelief.