what now? | outerbanks

• seventy-eight •

Sarah

    I'm standing off to the edge, admiring the night's beauty from the outskirts of the dancefloor. It's mostly dark out now, but the soft, gleaming lanterns hanging above in the trees are casting a wonderful glow onto the party. I danced for a little while, but now my feet hurt and I can't bear to skip and hop any longer. My hair was down in easy, simple waves earlier, pinned in a few places with pearly clips, but I've since scooped it up and wrangled it into a ponytail, overcome by the humidity.
    Earlier, Rafe and Sofia danced their first dance, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't shed a few tears. I caught up with some family I haven't seen in ages—some sweet and some sickeningly passive about my being pregnant. Now, though, I've had enough time with others, and I'm happy just being an observer.
    My eyes fall onto John B., who's holding onto one of Wheezie's hands, spinning her around and around until I think she might be sick. JJ and Kie are giggling together a few feet away, drinking matching drinks, and Cleo and Pope are sitting at one of the tables, sipping their drinks and watching everything unfold.
    Slowly, the dance music fades out and the band—live, of course, since it's Rafe and he can do whatever he wants—starts playing a slow, soft tune. The violin pierces its beautiful wails through the muggy air, and the guitar is playing low and slow underneath the sounds of laughter and drinks clinking. Suddenly, there's a hand on my back, and Rafe is standing next to me.
    He looks directly into the crowd of dancers and asks quietly, "Will you dance with me?"
    My eyebrows furrow, and I turn to look at him, confused. "You want me to dance with you?" I ask.
    "That's what I asked, isn't it?" Classic Rafe—gruff even when he's trying to be sweet.
    I breathe out a soft chuckle. "If that's what you want, newlywed." I hold my hand out to him. "Yes, I will dance with you."
    He walks me slowly to the middle of the dancefloor and half-awkwardly places one hand on my waist and the other on my shoulder. I'm not sure where to look at first, so I look past Rafe's shoulders to John B., who is now slow dancing with Wheezie. His eyes meet mine for the slightest second, and I catch him wink before he looks back down at Wheezie. God, I'm in love.
    I lay my arms lazily over Rafe's shoulders, and he quietly says, "You look like Mom."
    I almost don't catch what he says over the sound of the music, so I say, "Huh?"
    "She'd be really proud of you, seeing you like this."
    I smile a sad, longing, close-mouthed smile. "She'd be proud of you too," I whisper.
    "Nah," he says dismissively, eyes wandering to anywhere but my face. "I don't think so."
    "Yes, she would," I insist, fingers tightening around his shoulders. Finally, I meet his deep blue eyes. "I'm serious, Rafe. You've come a long way."
    He huffs quietly, like he's trying to get himself to believe, and then his jaw goes tight. "Do you remember when I used to tell you when you were little? Before... before everything? About protecting you?"
    My eyes burn. "Yeah."
    "I meant it. I still do."
    I nod as I lean in closer, closing my teary eyes and letting off pounds of weight and burden I didn't know I was carrying. "I know."
    Rafe slides his hands to my shoulders, giving them a gentle, almost hesitant squeeze. For a moment, I stand there waiting, wondering, but then I comply, and I lean my head against his chest, basking in all of the years and all of the love we've kept hidden under hatred for far too long.
    We stand there for the rest of the song, swaying and trusting and healing from everything we've been through. I can't remember the last time I've truly hugged him. Sure, over the last year or so we've embraced a few times, but it was never honest, not like this.
    "I'm sorry for everything," he whispers, voice breaking. "I never meant for any of it to happen, you know? I never thought it'd get that bad."
    "I know," I cry. "I'm just glad we made it here."
    "And now there's everything with Miller, and I'm just beating myself up over dragging you into this again. I mean, I just don't want something to happen."
    Suddenly, the sweet moment is over. I pull away. "But the cops are handling the case, right? So, I should be able to stay out of it?"
   He doesn't sense the suspiciousness in my tone. "Kind of, but now that JJ's dad might be involved, it's all just way too close for comfort."
    I freeze. JJ's dad? Luke? Since when was he involved in this? "What do you mean?"
    Now, he freezes too. "No one told you?" he asks.
    I try to distance myself. "What?"
    I'm searching his eyes, and suddenly, they're just as distant and aloof as they were before. "Shit, I shouldn't be the one to tell you about this. I have to go find Sofia."
    And just like that, he's gone. I'm left standing in the middle of the dance floor, streaky cheeks, just left baffled. In a matter of seconds, Kiara is right in front of me, eyes wild and panicked.
    "Uh—dance with me," she says quickly, planting her hands on my shoulders and turning me so I'm facing the other direction.
    Recovering from the whiplash, I confusedly say, "What?"
    "Yeah, come dance with me. Who knows how many dance parties we have left before the baby comes?"
    "Kie, what are you talking about? You don't even like dancing."
    "Yeah—but—" Her eyes are scrambling at something over my shoulder, but when I try to turn around to see what it is, she stops me.
    "No! Uh—come with me." She tries to get me to walk with her, but I'm too suspicious. I turn around, and my stomach drops.
    Rose.
    I instantly gasp, turning back to Kie with panicked eyes.
    "Sarah—" Kie says sharply. "Sarah, you need to go somewhere else, baby." Her eyes search around the backyard. "John B.!" she yells.
    Everything around me is flashing about, and I can't seem to focus on any one thing. My mind is spinning uncontrollably. Rose? Here? When did she get out? Why is she here?
    "Come on, Sarah," I hear John B. say. It's muffled, though, like I'm not in my own body. I can't get the image of Rose out of my mind—all smug and evil and rich, like she knows she shouldn't be here. Like she knows she's ruining things.
    John B. is moving me toward the house before I can say anything, and I can only make out a blur of his face through my tears. Then, I remember what Rafe said about Miller and the case, and now I'm mad at John B. too. He hustles me inside, and my ears start to ring from how quiet it is.
    "Hey, don't worry about it," he tells me, trying to find my eyes. "Kiara's gonna handle it."
    "Wheezie can't see her, John B. She's gonna freak out. Rafe too." I try to wriggle from his grip, but he's too worried. Too strong.
    "Kie's got it handled, baby, I promise."
    I choke on my tears. "You lied to me!"
    He's taken aback by the sudden switch-up. "What?"
    "Don't pretend, John B. I know that you guys went behind my back and looked into the case. I know—"
    "Sarah, wait—"
    I break free and storm out of the house, back into the backyard. I see Rafe and Sofia talking far away in the corner of the yard. Neither of them see her. Wheezie's at the dessert table picking over the sweets. She doesn't see her either.