what now? | outerbanks

• seventy-seven •

Kiara

As my eyes flutter open, and I wake to the feeling of JJ's chest rising and falling, I start hoping I could lie here for one more second. Just one. But then the clock strikes, and my alarm starts ringing from the bedside table. I stir slightly to turn it off, trying not to wake him, but he senses my movement.
"Where are you going?" he murmurs, tightening his embrace.
"I gotta get ready to pick up the girls," I whisper. I try to wiggle away, but it's impossible.
"No," he grumbles defiantly. "Stay in bed with me."
"I can't," I whisper, turning to face him. "It's wedding day."
He opens one eye, a playful smirk forming. "Maybe if I kiss you, you'll change your mind." His lips easily find my cheek, then my jaw, then my neck, then even lower.
I squirm a little then chuckle, leaning him toward me to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Nice try, but duty calls."
"You're no fun," he whines, turning his back to me.
I sit up against the headboard, twisting my fingers through his salty blonde hair. "Hey, look. I'm sure there'll be a bar tonight. Maybe you'll get lucky," I joke with a wink.
He smiles but rolls his eyes. "Whatever."
Reluctantly, I slip out of bed, quickly dressing and gathering my things. Before I leave the bedroom door, I say, "Jayj, please be ready in time. John B. will be here in a few hours, and you guys cannot be late again. And make sure you wear the right shirt—the one Sofia picked out for all of you guys."
"I got it, Kie. Don't worry." He seems confident in himself, but I know him too well to believe he'll get ready without any issues.
I slide on my flip-flops by the door. "See you later," I call out.
"I love you, baby," he says, voice still perfectly hot and gruff with sleep.
"I love you too, J."

A few houses down, I pull into Sarah and John B.'s driveway. The house looks dim and still and quiet, like its inhabitants are still asleep and so is it. I get worried after sitting there for a minute, debating whether or not I should go in there and wake them up myself, but just as I'm about to honk, the front door opens.
The first to emerge is Sarah, totally peaceful and sane. Sure, she looks exhausted—she has sunglasses perched crookedly on her nose, her long pajama shirt reaches so far down her legs that I can't tell if she's wearing pants or not, and I'm half-sure her slippers are on the opposite feet. Still, bed-head and all, she isn't carrying the chaos she usually carries.
Then, in pure opposite manner, John B. comes stumbling out of the door, arms full to the brim. There's the chaos. He's wrestling a garment bag, all of Sarah's makeup, a tote full of snacks and emergency items, a bag of hair tools, and a portable fan that's hanging from a singular finger.
I roll down the passenger window. "Need help?" I call.
"I don't even know which arm is which," he calls back in desperation.
I get out of the car and open the trunk, moving a few things around to fit all of Sarah's things. When I'm sure John B. can finally handle it on his own, I round the car to find Sarah, giving her a hug and opening her car door.
"Morning, sunshine," I say in too sing-songy of a voice. I do it on purpose, knowing this is far too early for her to be happy about being awake.
"Morning," she mumbles, taking a bite of avocado toast I'm guessing John B. woke up early to make her. Something about it all is strangely reminiscent of a toddler preschool drop-off.
The trunk slams shut and John B. comes around to help Sarah in the car. She slides into the seat, a hand braced on her back, and John B. straps the bucks carefully around her belly.
"Thank you, baby," she hums as he gives her a goodbye kiss.
"Of course. I love you," he says, shutting the door. The window is still open, and he says, "Call me if anything, okay?" She nods.
Before I get in the car, I ask, "Can you please make sure JJ is up on time? I left the door unlocked so you can get in, and everything is already sorted for him."
"I've got it covered," he says simply. "And I'll make sure he remembers his deodorant this time."
"Thank God," I groan, getting into the car and shutting the door. "See you in a few hours!"
    I drive off and turn on the radio. Sarah presses a few buttons before landing on a quiet, beachy song that neither of us know but neither of us hate.
    "Are you excited?" I ask her.
    She tilts her head a little and lifts one of her legs underneath her in her seat. "Excited? No. Happy for them? Yes."
"I get that."
"It's hard to get excited about stuff like this after everything that's gone wrong," she says, looking out of the window.
I know exactly what she's talking about. "It's scary getting your hopes up, huh?"
We drive to the shop and park in front of the house, waiting for Cleo. I honk once, and she's already halfway in the car with two precisely packed bags—much neater than Sarah's. Pope waves groggily from the porch and blows Cleo a kiss.
"What a romantic!" Sarah coos. "Did he ever blow you kisses?" she asks, turning to me.
I shove her shoulder, pulling away from the house and onto the main road. "We fought after, like, three days and that was it. So, no. No kisses blown."
    "He woke up early to cook me breakfast this morning," Cleo brags with a satisfied hum.
    I roll my eyes. "Great. JJ tried to seduce me back into bed this morning," I complain. "He's a child."
    "You chose to marry him."
    Cleo leans forward from the back and wraps her arms around Sarah's seat. "How's my baby niece doing this morning, Mama?"
    "Oh, she's great," Sarah sighs. "Daddy always makes sure she's good and fed. She's making me feel like shit, though. I've never had worse heartburn."
"She's feisty," I tease.
Cleo snorts. "Wonder where she gets it from."
"Well, I'm an angel, so it must be John B."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, bitch."
She spins quick to face me. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing," I giggle. "I was just saying—"
"I don't even care," she huffs. "Put on some wedding music or whatever."