underwater || outer banks- jj maybank

one - midnight expedition

one - midnight expedition

"I'm going to JJ's house. Where else can he be?" Layla stated, looking between the three of closest friends she had. They were all sitting on Layla's grandmother's patio in various seats, while Layla was sitting on the railing with her feet placed on the small table. She hadn't heard from JJ in about two days. He wasn't answering his phone and he hadn't turned up.

She was the one who knew JJ better than anyone else. Besides, Lay had given him a really hard time about something he had stolen. She had struck a nerve with that, leading to a rather large fight between the pair. 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Pope asked in reply. "I mean, if he wanted to see us right now he'd be here."

"I mean, I'm not really looking for permission," Layla responded, failing to answer Pope's question. She had given him unintended attitude. But it was about JJ. "Besides, Kie went last time. I'll be back soon, hopefully."

"Did Ms. Flora leave us food?" John B questioned, pulling his beer into his lap.

"Of course she did," Kiara replied, pulling her leg underneath her. She grabbed her drink off the table and took a swig.

Layla smiled. "She said she made a lasagna and it's thawing on the counter. 375 for an hour. I'll be back for dinner."

Pope gave her a salute of sorts as she jumped off of her seat on the patio. Layla shoved her light brown waves behind her shoulders. She then walked down the blue patio's steps, grabbing her bike tossed on the ground. She stood it up, hopped on, and began to peddle in the direction of JJ's house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When Layla arrived at the house, she was not sure what to do. Was the best course of action to knock on his door? Wait for the boy to come out? Call for him?

She decided to call his cell phone one last time, only for it to go straight to voicemail. JJ went radio silent for two days. No calls or no texts. No responses.

She knew something of the relationship between JJ and his father. She had never met his father, but JJ's occasional bruises were explanation enough. Layla despised it when JJ went home. He rarely did, but her heart wrenched on the occasion.

She decided to set her bike down on the street and walk up to the house. With any luck, his father would be asleep or not home.

Against her better judgment, Layla walked right up to the screened in patio. She then opened the door, walking up to the front door. Layla inhaled deeply, clenching her thumb in her left fist. She brought her right fist to the door, knocking harshly three times.

She then waited. She smoothed out her denim paper bag shorts which where cinched at the waist, as well as her heather gray tank top (that she had cropped herself).

She took a step back, the door swinging open. It was JJ.

Her mouth fell slightly at her best friend's face; he had a busted lip, red swelling on the left side of his face, and a small cut underneath his right eye.

His eyes slightly widened at the girl standing before him. His voice was a sharp whisper. "Layla, what're you doing here? Leave, now."

"Who is it, boy?" an unfamiliar yet cold voice called from within the house.

"No one," JJ called back. His voice was slightly choked up.

Heavy footsteps could then be heard. The scruffy looking man appeared in the doorframe next to JJ, shuffling in half-drunk stagger. He leaned against it, taking a sip out of the alcoholic beverage in his left hand. He looked Layla up and down.