Chasing Sunshine | JJ Maybank

33 // Dead Calm

Our gleeful celebrations never faltered once the entire journey home, our exciting shouting dying down only to be replaced by a raucous sing-along to the rock station JJ tuned the radio to. It was a little odd however, having to dispatch Sarah and John B to Tannyhill instead of all of us spending the night at the Château like we always did. Even though Sarah herself didn't seem to raise as much of an issue as before, John B's new living situation certainly did and the chorus of voices died down uncomfortably as JJ turned the Volkswagen into the round-about drive of the Figure Eight mansion. John B cleared his throat awkwardly and the pair of them slid the side door open as quietly as possible, feet thudding softly on the concrete as they got out. He came to the passenger window, leaning on the frame as he looked at the rest of us warmly with an appreciative smile.

"Here, take this with you guys for safe-keeping," he said, handing me the three gold bars he had managed to bring up with him, "We'll meet up tomorrow morning, yeah?"

I nodded with a grin as the rest of them murmured their agreements. "Go take a shower JB," I instructed with a teasing grimace, "You still smell like shit."

He rolled his eyes and pushed off the door to stand up straight. "Love you too," he replied sarcastically, turning around to follow Sarah up to the house but not before calling out quietly over his shoulder, "See you all at home!" It was unclear whether or not he chose that word on purpose, but either way, it made me happy to know his loyalties still resided in the right places.

I watched them link hands lovingly as they slipped in through the front door and I remarked to no one in particular, "He's crazy about her, huh?"

No one really answered; I just caught sight of their nods and heard sleepy mumbles of assent. The late hour and physical toll of the day was finally beginnning to catch up with us. It didn't take long before Kie nodded off against Pope's shoulder and he leaned back against the side of the van to fall alseep as well. This suited me just fine; it meant I could reach across the center console and thread my fingers through JJ's without consequence.

Neither of us needed to say anything and I knew after the commotion of today, I was unlikely to snooze for the rest of the drive. So I just focused on studying the three familar rings encircling his thumb, ring, and pinkie finger predictably, catching clear glimpses of them in the passing light of the streetlamps. My gaze traveled up his arm, over the mask still pulled down around his neck and then to his face, cherishing the fact that I could stare at him now whenever I wanted to. The corners of my mouth tugged downwards a little though when my eyes found the last fading remnant of his father's fist: a healing scar cutting diagonally across his upper and lower lip and a small slice over his cheekbone.

"We never did talk about this you know," I said, in barely above a whisper to avoid waking up the others and tapped lightly on my mouth. He glanced over at me confused for a second before recognition dawned on him and he slowly ran his tongue over the cut with a sigh.

"We don't need to," he responded bluntly. I raised one eyebrow.

"I think we do," I challenged, "Especially because I feel like it's been happening for longer than I care to guess."

"Meg, you really don't need to worry-"

"I'm sorry, who was it again that wanted to put his fist through my dad's nose when I got smacked around?" I interrupted to which he rolled his eyes, "Oh right, that was you."

"It's not the same," he argued, "This is just the way it's always been with him. He beat on my mom and now he beats on me. I know you've never met him but trust me, he's not a man open to change."

I couldn't decide if his nonchalance on the subject saddened or infuriated me. "That's a shitty way to live," I pointed out with a scoff.

"I can handle it."