𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞- 𝐣𝐣 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

12.

🦋☀ 🌊 - 12

It wasn't long until Sarah went to find Wheezie, and Olivia texted Kiara to meet up. The party was boring, and Sarah was too tired to go back downstairs with the others. Olivia stayed on the front lawn with Sarah and Wheezie, insisting on keeping her friend company, though Sarah shook her head. She was ending the party soon and heading to bed.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably on the grass, the faint thrum of bass from the Cameron house vibrating through her chest. Everyone inside looked wild-laughing, shouting, spilling drinks, disappearing into rooms she didn't want to see. She felt like she was staring through someone else's life, not hers.

Shortly after, the van pulled up in front of the house. Compared to the Cameron's mansion, it looked like a relic, dented and dusty, but nobody cared.

"I'll see you around, okay? Be careful, and let me know how things go," Olivia hugged Sarah tightly. The smell of Sarah's shampoo lingered, grounding her, making her feel like she wasn't totally alone.

"I will," Sarah smiled, watching Olivia hop into the van.

The mood inside the vehicle was heavy. Olivia wished she had just walked home. She stared out the window at the dark streets passing by, the neon signs from the beach bars casting ghostly glows. JJ sat across from her, silent, staring at his hands, pretending not to notice. They were still fighting, neither willing to fix it just yet.

Pope, Kiara, and John B were animated in their discussion, sharing every detail of the wreck, the drones, the hidden compartments. Olivia nodded and smiled at the stories, but it was hollow. She felt like a spectator in her own life.

John B parked at The Wreck. Kiara insisted Olivia come in with her rather than being dropped off. "Stealing drones makes you hungry," she said, helping Olivia out of the van, pulling her from her thoughts.

Inside, Kiara stopped by her dad, hugging him and asking for food for the group. Olivia waved to Mr. Carrera, enjoying the brief sense of normalcy, before following the others to the back. The smell of frying food mixed with sea salt filled the air, grounding her slightly.

The silence around the table was heavy. Olivia didn't stand by JJ like usual. After the party, all she wanted was for him to hug her, to tell her she'd be okay. She wanted nothing to do with Rafe or Midsummers after he'd almost forced her into something she didn't want.

Kiara told everyone to sit, and the food was served moments later. The group devoured it-but Olivia's appetite was gone, replaced with a hollow sickness. Her fork hovered over the plate, untouched. She felt disconnected from the laughter, the playful shouts, even the smell of fried food that normally made her mouth water.

JJ noticed her change. His protective instincts kicked in, but he stayed silent. They were fighting, and he didn't want to make it worse, yet it hurt to see her so distant.

Music started, faint at first, then louder as John B played a playlist from his phone. The friends laughed, starting a mini food fight that Kiara quickly ended, not wanting to clean it up later. She waved John B over, dancing to the music, her grin bright in the dim light.

Olivia watched them enjoy themselves, but all she wanted to do was cry. She felt like a spectator again, trapped in a life she didn't fully belong to. Nothing had happened to her physically, but Rafe being her Midsummers date-and the thought of what could happen-twisted her stomach into knots.

She excused herself and walked to the small dock in the back. The wooden planks creaked under her feet, the water lapping gently against the pilings. The night smelled of salt, seaweed, and faint smoke from a distant fire pit. Everyone else didn't notice... except JJ.

He stood, pausing for a second, watching her. Not caring if she yelled or slapped him, he stepped onto the dock and followed her. He needed to make sure she was okay, and every step felt heavy with unsaid words.

"Hey," he said nervously, stopping a few feet away. "Can I sit?"

She wanted to snap, call him an idiot-but she had no energy. "Sure."

JJ sat beside her, mimicking her posture, knees to chest. The night was calm around them. A slight breeze ruffled the hair on their faces, carrying the faint sound of waves and distant laughter from the wreck.

"Everything okay?" JJ asked softly.

"Just peachy," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes, but her voice betrayed her unease.

He looked at her, hurt. He wanted to hug her, to make her feel safe, like she had done for him before-but didn't know how to start. "Listen... I'm really sorry about earlier."

Olivia ignored him, eyes tracing the Little Dipper Sarah had pointed out earlier. The stars seemed so far away, constant and bright, unlike her spinning thoughts.

"I was being an idiot. You can slap me, I get it. I was being a... bitch," JJ admitted, his voice low. He rarely apologized, but this time he meant it.

"Just stop," Olivia cut him off, moving closer and curling up against his side.

JJ was shocked at first, then slowly put his arm around her, pulling her in. She needed comfort, and he was determined to give it. His fingers brushed her hair back from her face, tracing lightly down her arm. The scent of the sea mixed with her shampoo lingered, grounding him as much as it comforted her.

"You were right," Olivia admitted. She hated admitting things. "The party sucked."

"What happened?" JJ asked protectively, ready to snap at anyone who had hurt her.

"Rafe happened. Topper happened. The kooks happened," Olivia sniffled, holding back tears that threatened to escape. "I hate them all, and I hate that I'm one of them."

JJ's face fell. She came from Figure Eight, but he loved every inch of her. "You're one of us. Don't say that. Don't let your mind trick you."

"But I am, JJ. You said it yourself-my biggest fear is that you'll see me the way I see myself... and you do." Olivia let the tears fall freely, sitting up to face him.

His heart broke. He might act like an idiot, say stupid things, get angry-but he never viewed her as anything other than his best friend and a Pogues girl.

"I'm rich," Olivia continued, voice breaking. "I should be thankful. I should be happy. But I'm not. My parents care only about money. The kooks worry about shoes at a party, and I envy them. I can't just worry about one thing. I worry about my brother, my mom, my dad yelling at me for hanging out with Pogues. It's never-ending."

JJ watched her struggle for words, guilt pinching his chest. He blamed himself, but it wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't dump this on you," Olivia whispered, wiping away tears, staring at the stars.

"Don't apologize. Please. Don't," he said, drawing her into his chest. "It's not your fault. You're perfect the way you are. If the kooks don't like you for who you are, fuck them."

"You're right. I'm such a baby," Olivia rolled her eyes, hating herself for letting her emotions get the best of her.

For a while, they sat there, just breathing, listening to the waves slap gently against the dock. The distant lights from the wreck flickered through the darkness, and for the first time in hours, Olivia felt a small part of her chest loosen.