'she's kook fuckin' royalty, man.'
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a lot of things go unnoticed in the outer banks. things like missing millions in gold, underage drinking, and the bruises that litter the skin of the kook princess.
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( unravelling )
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RED WAS ALL SHE COULD SEE. The sound of her front door slamming shut still echoed through her head, JJ's words ricocheting off the corners of her mind.
Anger like this was unfamiliar to her. If anything, she had always been better at keeping her emotions tightly in check, a wound-up knot permanently lodged in the base of her throat. Never quite free. It was a cage of her own design which had always kept the extremities of her temper trapped. She liked it that way. And if that cage she'd made seemed to cut her off from the world around her, that was okay.
The world wasn't a place she liked very much anyway.
Lucy would certainly take that feeling of being trapped over the roiling mess of thoughts that occupied her mind now. She felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under her, the same kind of winded feeling as when an unexpected wave swept her off her feet. It felt as though JJ was present in the back of her mind, as though that brief loss of control had sent her tumbling off some precipice that had once been off limits. Lucy didn't like this feeling at all. This unravelling.
So, Lucy had done what she always did when she needed reassurance. She'd gone looking for Sarah.
Unfortunately, Sarah wasn't home. And Lucy would be lying if she said that simple statement didn't make her want to tear her own hair out, just a little. She'd discovered that information after spending about five minutes throwing rocks at her bedroom window, only for her efforts to be rewarded by a withering death glare from a somewhat disgruntled Wheezie, who casually informed her that Sarah was out with Topper.
That was how Lucy had wound up at Topper's house, sweating through even the lightest shirt she owned, thanks to the humidity which seemed to cling to her skin. After all, Lucy knew that if Sarah told Wheezie she was out with Topper, 'out' was the last place she was likely to be. Topper's parents were out of town, and that was all Lucy really needed to know.
Her bike lay abandoned at the side of the road, wheels still spinning, kicking up clouds of dust. Topper's family home loomed above her, the shadow of the building shrouding half the street below.
There was no light in the windows. No movement. The sound of the wind and the rustling of neatly pruned topiary hedges were swallowed by the stagnant air around her, a kind of bubble that made Lucy feel like the only living creature for miles. She furrowed her brow, staring at the house in front of her. She'd been to Topper's house a handful of times. Never in the light of day, and never sober. She'd always made sure of that. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures, and all that.
Steeling herself, she pushed the front gate open, wincing as it punctured the silence with its creaking hinges. Lucy didn't bother closing it, turning her focus to the front door as she marched forwards. Still, despite this tunnel vision, she found herself hesitating as she reached for the doorbell, catching herself for the briefest of instants.
