Alone Together • JJ Maybank

Three.

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It has only been two weeks since I've returned to the Outer Banks. Five weeks without mom. I've spent most of my time with the Pogues, and John B and Nana's secret talks have not gone unnoticed by me. I'm sure they're purposefully trying to keep me busy. On one hand, I am grateful, and it does honestly work sometimes. But on the other hand, it has distracted me from looking into mom's accident as much as I would like.

The list of garages and salvage yards I had found didn't get me very far. I tried all seven, plus the one JJ told me about. No one saw any car with that license plate in the past five weeks. Maybe I'd have to widen my search to the surrounding towns.

I did have more luck at the café that Nana told me about though. Buried away at the far end of the Cut was an old internet café, looking like something straight from the 90's. After a few unsuccessful attempts, and two extremely filling but delicious milkshakes, I managed to log into my mom's cell phone account. Printing out a years' worth of calls and messages, I have been working my way through as much as possible each night. Three months in, and nothing unusual was showing up yet. Although I did find it cute how often my mom spoke with Big John. He was best man at her wedding to my dad, and she had known him since school, but I didn't realize they had stayed so close after all this time. No wonder why she was so upset when she found out he was missing.

Tonight, as with four other nights I have done this, I took the pages of cell phone numbers to the end of the dock with a small camping lamp and a now empty coffee cup. It was past one in the morning and after spending the day with Kie, us ganging up on Pope at work, I wanted to at least get through five more pages before going to bed. Turning over the final page, I folded the papers and put them back into my bag beside me. I uncrossed my legs, letting them hang off the edge of the dock as I lent back on my hands with a sigh.

The sound of footsteps walking up behind me would normally scare me, but after the past two times, I half expected it. The boy sat down beside me, legs bumping mine slightly as he hung his over the edge to match my position.

"We gotta stop meeting like this." I didn't look over to him at first. Just bumping my shoulder to his to acknowledge his presence. We stayed silent for a moment longer, both appreciating the silence.

It's been a week since JJ first caught me out here so late. After another fun filled day hanging with the Pogues and then returning home to Nana, I just felt completely overwhelmed. Like I was living someone else's life. And I missed mom. He had walked out into the Chateau's porch to smoke, and spotted me out here.

In just a week of knowing JJ, I had come to learn that he was like an excitable puppy. A loose cannon who was always enthusiastic for an adventure and wanting to put a smile on his friends faces. But that night he surprised me. He sat down wordlessly beside me, not making his usual jokes or flirty comments. He was just there. And suddenly I didn't feel so alone any more. The joint he handed me probably helped a lot too.

We sat there silently smoking together for another 45 minutes before he stood up and reached his hand out for me to take, which I did. I walked back to Nana's, and he went back to John B's. The whole time in complete silence. But it was as if so much was said.

Two nights ago, he came out here again. This time carrying a blanket that he draped over my shoulders before sitting beside me. He asked me about my old life, my old home, and my mom. The strange part was that I found myself actually telling him stuff. Nothing too deep or personal, just the basics. And he talked back, telling me a bit about his life. That's when I felt a little guilty. I may be missing my parents now, but at least they were good when they were around. JJ wasn't so lucky.