𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 || 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

      THE TWINKIE rattled along the bumpy dirt road, the salty air whipping through the open windows. Inside, the crew was settling into their usual rhythm of banter and bickering. JJ leaned back in the passenger seat, his feet propped on the dashboard, grinning as he twisted his hat in his hands.

"I'm just saying," JJ began, the familiar teasing tone already lacing his words, "I don't understand why you don't at least try with Kiara. She clearly likes you. She's all, 'Oh, John B.'" He pitched his voice high, fluttering his eyelashes dramatically.

Avery, sitting cross-legged in the backseat, leaned forward, resting her elbows on the front seats. "Oh, John B," she echoed in a mock-swoon, placing a hand dramatically over her chest. "You're my knight in salty cargo shorts. Please take me away from this life of privilege and organic juice cleanses."

John B groaned, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. "She doesn't like me like that."

"Dude," JJ cut in, turning to face him. "She was sketching about you diving, then she kissed you."

"It was on the cheek," John B snapped, giving him a pointed look. "It's not like we were making out or something."

"Low-hanging fruit, bro," JJ shot back. "Don't pretend you don't notice. I see it in your eyes. You're like, 'I kinda like that,' and then you start blushing."

John B glanced over, incredulous. "Blushing? I blush?"

JJ grinned. "Oh yeah. Tomato red."

"Really?" John B pressed.

"Really," JJ confirmed, deadpan.

Avery laughed softly, leaning back in her seat. "Okay, you guys are killing me. Can we stop psychoanalyzing John B and maybe talk about the compass we almost died for? Just a thought."

JJ grabbed the compass off the dashboard, spinning it in his hands. "I was just looking at it," he said when John B gave him a warning glance. He flipped it over, inspecting the engraving. "But I gotta admit, your father's compass being on Scooter's boat? That's freaky."

John B reached over and snatched it back, gripping it tightly. "Yeah, exactly. That's why we're going to talk to Ms. Lana. Figure this whole thing out."

JJ rolled his eyes, leaning back against the seat. "Oh, sure. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see us. It's not like her husband just drowned or anything."

Avery frowned, brushing her hair out of her face as she leaned forward again. "Maybe she won't, but we still have to try," she said, her tone steady. "If there's a chance she knows something, it's worth it. We just have to... I don't know, not be jerks about it."

John B glanced at her in the rearview mirror, his expression softening. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Avery replied with a small smile. "If you go in guns blazing, she's probably gonna slam the door in your face. But if you just talk to her, maybe she'll actually help us."

JJ twisted in his seat to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "And what makes you the expert on grieving widows?"

"I'm not an expert," Avery said with a shrug. "But I know people. And I know that if we're calm and respectful, she's more likely to give us something useful." She paused, her lips quirking into a small grin. "But, you know, if you'd rather wing it, by all means."

JJ chuckled, nudging John B. "She's got a point, man."

"Fine," John B muttered. "We'll take it slow."

"Good," Avery said, settling back into her seat. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm not risking my neck again for nothing. If this compass is important, we need all the help we can get."