Chapter Text
JJ Cameron had been the best friend of John Booker Routledge since the third grade. If he hadn’t shared a last name with the most prominent family on Kildare Island, you’d have never guessed he was a Kook. He’s always been a Pogue at heart, the resulting behavior of which had gotten him kicked out of the ultra-prestigious academy on Figure Eight. He landed himself in public school, where he befriended John B. The next year, the two of them managed to rope Kiara Carrera and Pope Heyward in on their antics, and from there, they became inseparable. So inseparable, in fact, that when Ward Cameron managed to get him back into the Kook Academy just in time for middle school, he’d pitched an absolute fit and refused to go. The rest of the Pogues were convinced they’d seen the last of him when he hadn’t shown up on the first day of sixth grade, but a week later, he’d turned up in their homeroom, having gotten himself booted in a record three days time.
All that behavior had established him as the polar opposite of his twin sister, Sarah. For the first few years of his life, John B had only known her as “Princess Sarah,” a slightly less than affectionate nickname that JJ used when telling him about the latest shenanigan she’d gotten away with. John B was ten when he saw Sarah Cameron for the first time, sitting in the passenger seat of Ward’s truck when he came to pick up JJ from the Chateau one afternoon. He’d made the mistake of telling Pope that she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, because his dear friend couldn’t keep a secret for shit back then. It had taken a solid week for JJ to stop being mad at him, after which they’d agreed to never speak of it again.
JJ’s deep seated resentment of Tanneyhill meant that the only time John B ever really saw Sarah was when he did maintenance around the estate. When the Kook princess wasn’t roaming the grounds with her snobby friends, she liked to annoy him by critiquing his every move while he worked. It was typical rich-girl behavior, but her petulance kept him on his toes, and she could occasionally be funny.
Sometimes, he would tell JJ about the comments she made, but his best friend would just roll his eyes and give some snarky retort to whatever she’d said. It never went beyond that, though, because no matter how bitchy or stuck up she could be at times, JJ had always been fiercely protective of Sarah. When they were younger, it seemed like every week John B got a new story from JJ about whose ass he’d kicked for talking shit about his sister. He’d dialed it back a bit in recent years, but John B wasn’t sure if that was because his friend had matured, or the other kids had finally learned. But one thing that everyone on Kildare was certain of by the time they reached high school: Kook or Pogue, it didn’t matter, you didn’t mess around with Sarah Cameron.
That’s why John B considered falling in love with her to be the dumbest thing he’d ever done. In his defense, it hadn’t been intentional. She caught him entirely by surprise.
It had been one of the hottest days of the year, so John B was overjoyed once the sun finally set. He and the Pogues had spent all afternoon emptying crab pots in the marsh, and they’d come back with a pretty massive haul. Of course, that also meant that once they were ready to be shelled, his friends all suddenly had to leave. Apparently, Kie’s parents needed her home ASAP, Pope had a boatload of homework he’d forgotten about until then, and JJ’s hand spontaneously started cramping.
John B had rolled his eyes at their shitty excuses, but in reality, he hadn’t minded all that much. With his dad gone, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He’d been shelling crabs for about 3 hours, the sun recently disappeared below the horizon, when an unfamiliar car pulled into the backyard.
His chest tightened for a moment, could his dad have finally come home? John B’s hopes were short lived, however, once he saw the outline of a woman’s body emerging from the car. He stood from the lawn chair he’d been sitting in and made his way down the dock, trying to get an idea of who it could possibly be. Once he got close enough to see the porch light being reflected off long, golden hair, John B had his answer.
“Sarah?” he called out.
“Hey, John B,” she replied, finally close enough to the dock that he could see all of her. “Is JJ around?”
Sarah stood right in front of him now, and the lights on the dock showed her in an anxious and disheveled state, which he’d never seen before.
“No, he left a few hours ago,” he told her, furrowing his brow in concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Things just got out of hand at home, and JJ’s always the one I stay out with when it happens. Thanks for your help though,” she smiled curtly.
Sarah turned to leave, and before he’d even realized it, John B had called after her, “Hey, wait.” She looked back, raising a brow at him.
“If you need somewhere to hide out for a little while, you’re welcome to hang here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she replied hesitantly.
“I’m just shelling crabs, I could use the company,” he shrugged, nodding his head towards the end of the dock.
Sarah gave him a shy smile before saying, “Sure.”
When they reached the end of the dock, he gave her the chair, opting to sit on the ground despite her protests. He went back to shelling the crabs, and it only took about five minutes for her to demand he teach her how to do it as well. John B gave her a quick lesson before handing over his spare knife, letting her go to town on the bucket.
Turns out, shelling crabs is actually hard as shit if you’ve never done it before, something that he completely forgot seeing as he’d been doing it since he could hold a knife. Sarah was there to remind him of that difficulty, getting flustered every time she ran into the hard walls of the crab’s inner shell. Eventually, she got so aggressive with it that John B worried she might gash herself with the knife if she wasn’t careful.
“Hey, why don’t we take a break for a minute,” he suggested, gently removing the knife and the demolished crab from her hands. John B set them down before walking over to the cooler they’d had out on the boat earlier. He flipped the lid open and pulled out a beer before turning to Sarah.
“Want anything?”
“White Claw’s probably too basic white bitch for you, John B?” she half asked, half teased.
“Oh, it absolutely is,” he replied before pulling out a can and gently tossing it to her. “But when it comes to Kiara, it’s her guilty pleasure.”
Sarah mumbled a “thank you” before cracking the can open and taking two large gulps. Afterward, she let out a heavy sigh, throwing her head back and looked up at the stars.
“You know you can talk about it if you want,” he told her, leaning against the railing beside her.
She looked up at him apprehensively, and John B involuntarily held his breath, a tiny part of his subconscious hoping that the Kook princess would deem him worthy of her thoughts.
“Has JJ ever mentioned Rafe’s relationship with our dad?” she asked, averting her eyes from his gaze. John B didn’t think he’d ever seen her this unsure of herself.
“Hmm, let me think here,” he mused, stroking his chin like he was a British aristocrat deep in thought. “About how your brother’s a jackass with a drug problem and an over inflated ego?”
“Something like that,” she chuckled, her shoulders dropping and her grip on the White Claw loosening a bit. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair before continuing. “They fight all the time. Rafe claims he wants to start taking charge with the family business, but all he does is party, and he probably has half of Peru up his nose by now.”
John B chuckled at her description. “Ah, so he’s a less talented Steven Tyler?”
“You listen to Aerosmith?”
“You don’t?”
Sarah grinned besides herself, looking down at the drink in her hand. “Anyways, it’s bad enough that he fights with Ward all the time, but as soon as things get heated, he gets super violent towards the rest of us.”
John B immediately felt the anger rising in his chest, the grip around his beer tightening involuntarily. “Has he ever,” he began in an almost whisper, trying to swallow the lump suddenly present in the back of his throat, “... hurt you?”
She looked straight into his eyes this time, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the nature of the question or the deadly seriousness of his voice that had commanded her attention. Sarah shook her head, and the following pang of silence was broken by a somewhat forced chuckle from her.
“I mean, let’s be real,” she said, clearly trying to lighten the mood, “Do you think the same JJ who broke a kid’s nose for pushing me off the monkey bars would allow Rafe to breathe without medical assistance if he’d laid a finger on me?”
John B chuckled, especially at the thought of a younger JJ waylaying a kid, “No, no, I guess not.”
“Rafe just yells in my face and breaks shit,” she said, taking another swig. “He’s too much of a pussy to do anything else.”
“That’s not much better, Sarah,” John B sighed.
“I know. Normally I can handle it, but tonight was just... too much.”
He took a long look at the girl sitting in front of him, the Kook princess who’d somehow decided that he was worthy of seeing her without her crown. Whose cushy, perfect life suddenly seemed a lot more complicated. Of course, he’d always known the overview of the Cameron family drama from being best friends with JJ, but he’d also kept most of the gritty details to himself. Maybe that’s why he could hardly recognize her, because this wasn’t the Sarah Cameron who had all of Figure Eight seemingly wrapped around her finger. Hell, this wasn’t even the Sarah who sat on the patio for three hours pointing out every time he “missed a spot” with the pressure washer. This was the real Sarah Cameron, and it was slightly concerning that he liked her so much.
“I’m really sorry. You deserve better,” he said, his voice far softer than he’d intended it to be.
“It’s alright,” Sarah replied, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Normally JJ’s around to get me out of there and keep me distracted. Tonight’s alternative hasn’t been too bad either.”
“Well, you’re always welcome here if you need to get away.”
He worried that the invitation might have been too forward, but then she smiled at him. A real, genuine smile, that easily outshone the dock lights hanging above her head.
“You know, I just might have to take you up on that, John B.”
They spent the next two hours shelling crabs and exchanging funny stories, some about JJ, but mostly just about their own personal antics. Then she’d left, with a thank you and a promise to come back sometime soon.
As much as he’d wanted to believe her, John B doubted she’d follow through with it. At the end of the day, she was the Kook princess, and he was a guy who worked on her family’s estate. Certain social norms just weren’t meant to be broken, and that was probably for the best, especially considering the largely unspoken fact that she was his best friend’s sister. There had been no agreement to do so, no conversation about it at all actually, but neither of them had mentioned their accidental rendezvous to JJ. Sure, it might not have been the most honest thing in the world, but it wasn’t lying if he never asked. Besides, two days after they’d hung out, he’d been threatened with foster care by DCS, only for Hurricane Agatha to come through and narrowly save him three days later. With that whirlwind of peril happening within less than a week, it hadn’t really crossed John B’s mind to tell JJ he’d hung out with his twin sister for a few hours.
While he hadn’t necessarily thought to mention his evening with Sarah to JJ, he still couldn’t seem to shake her presence from his brain. He hadn’t even figured out what he actually thought about her; he just couldn’t stop thinking . The radiant smile she’d given him had been permanently burned into his memory, and John B would be lying if he said he had any intention of forgetting that one.
His mind remained a jumbled mess of concerns for his future, disaster maintenance, and flashes of Sarah’s smile for a week after they’d hung out. A week to the day after their first secret encounter, that’s when John B had realized he was totally and completely fucked .
John B’s head was starting to hurt from the crappy lighting that made it impossible to read anything without squinting. He’d been sitting at his desk staring at maps for the last two hours. A brand new Grady White belonging to some rich family he couldn’t remember the name of came loose during the hurricane and ended up somewhere in the marsh, and they were offering $25,000 as a reward to whoever found it. John B wasn’t sure why they wouldn’t just buy another one, considering they likely had more money than they knew what to do with, but he didn’t care. $25k meant that he and the other Pogues wouldn’t have to work for the rest of the summer, so they were going to be the ones to find it.
Earlier that day, JJ had printed out the charts of wind and current patterns on the day of the storm. Pope had figured out the general direction that the boat would’ve traveled, but they’d left it up to John B to pinpoint. He’d hit a bit of a wall in his analysis, but with power out on the Cut, there was no way for him to call any of them for help.
John B threw his head back and groaned in frustration, but as soon as he went to pick his pencil back up, a knock at the window startled him out of his chair.
“Shit!” he yelped.
The noise sent him, and a few papers, crashing to the floor. He hadn’t heard anyone coming, so he wondered who the hell it could be, especially at 11 pm. John B wasted no time composing himself before making his way to the window. He opened it to find Sarah Cameron standing on the other side, dressed far too fancily for anything going on around there, her hand clamped over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter.
“Sarah?”
“Sorry,” she said, managing to suppress her giggles. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”
“It’s fine. Is, uh,” he stammered, trying to gauge her reason for being here. “Is everything okay?”
“Better now,” Sarah grinned, a sight he’d never get tired of. “I just escaped from the most awful Kook party. You up for an adventure, John B?”
He wasn’t sure when his brain had decided that a night out with Sarah Cameron was more important than a $25,000 reward, but he had zero hesitation when saying, “Sure.”
He jerked his head towards the backside of the house where the Twinkie was parked, and she took off towards it. John B shut the window and slipped on a pair of sandals before heading out of the house. With the screen door damaged, there was no reason to lock it.
Sarah was waiting for him when he reached the van, looking slightly impatient.
“Where to?” he asked, slipping into his seat and fishing the keys out of his pocket.
“Anywhere that isn’t Figure Eight,” she declared.
John B said nothing as he pulled out of the driveway, devising his plan silently. The first two things that came to mind were the old church and Redfield Lighthouse. Both were places he loved, but they each came with their own memories that had to be revisited every time he went. He quickly settled upon the lighthouse, as he wasn’t quite ready to share the church with anybody.
“Hey, so how’d you get to my house earlier? Your car wasn’t there?” he asked, breaking the almost five-minute-long silence.
“Oh, I had a friend drop me off,” she replied like it was the most casual thing in the world.
John B could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You got one of your Kook friends to drop you off at a random shack on the Cut at eleven o’clock at night?”
“Maybe,” she shrugged, a smirk playing across her lips.
“You are playing a dangerous game, Sarah Cameron,” he tsked.
“Oh, yeah?” she teased. “And what might that be?”
“Why, you’re becoming a Pogue sympathizer. Treason is punishable by death, you know.”
“Well, seeing as my brother has yet to be hanged for his crimes, I figure I can tempt fate a bit myself,” she quipped.
“Touché.”
Just as the word left his mouth, they passed the sign for Redfield Lighthouse. Typically you could see the top from the road, but the power outage on the Cut included the lighthouse as well, although they’d probably get around to installing generators fairly soon. It was only another minute or so before they reached the spot where he’d always park the Twinkie, away from the suspicious eye of any keepers.
“Interesting choice of location,” Sarah said as he cut the engine.
“Don’t worry, you’ll like it,” he assured her, sliding out of the van.
The two of them met at the van’s big door, which John B slid open with ease, reaching in to grab a lantern.
“I’m sure I will, but how do you plan on getting up there? It’s closed.”
“That’s the adventure part,” he grinned, sliding the door shut. “Come on.”
They made their way towards the lighthouse in near total darkness, with only the moonlight to prevent them from eating grass as they darted across the open space between the car and the door. John B was too afraid to use the lantern outside, just in case the keeper happened to be awake. He finally dared to use it when they reached the door, having seen no light emitting from the adjacent keeper’s house.
“There’s no alarm, they only have a lock on it,” he explained.
“I assume you know how to pick one?” Sarah asked, leaning expectantly against the wall with her arms crossed.
“Nope, I’ve got a copy,” he grinned, flashing the most fresh-looking key on the set he carried everywhere.
“Now where did you get that?”
“A great criminal never reveals his accomplices,” John B winked before unlocking the door, “After you.”
Sarah rolled her eyes in mock dismay before heading inside and John B followed after, quietly shutting the door behind them. They climbed the spiral stairs as quietly as possible, but it still sounded like a herd of elephants, so they gave up on stealthiness halfway through. John B was incredibly grateful for the lantern which he always kept in the back of the Twinkie, because going up and down the stairs in total darkness would’ve been a nightmare.
He made it to the top of the steps first, shouldering the door open to allow Sarah through. When she made it onto the deck of the lookout, she audibly gasped at what she saw. The full moon hung over the ocean, its reflection shimmering across the waves, and above their heads sat millions of twinkling stars.
“Wow, it’s so beautiful,” she said breathlessly, looking up at John B in awe.
“Wanna see something even cooler?” he asked, unable to stop himself from smiling at her amazement. Sarah nodded vigorously in response. John B cut the lantern, revealing billions more stars, clustered to form the Milky Way.
“Holy shit,” Sarah gasped.
“No power means no light pollution,” he said, leaning against the railing.
“Oh my God, it’s incredible,” she mused quietly, her head craned towards the mesmerizing scene playing out above their heads. John B had no idea how long she stayed like that, he was too busy drinking in her excitement. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but his heart swelled at the feeling of being able to give this gift to the girl who already had it all.
Finally, she sighed and stepped up to the railing, standing so close to him that their arms brushed against one another, “I wish I could live life like this all the time.”
“What do you mean?” He asked, looking down at her.
“Like how you and JJ live. Giving zero fucks about anything, doing whatever you want, whenever you want.”
“What’s stopping you? I’m sure JJ wouldn’t mind you tagging along.”
Sarah sighed again, directing her longing gaze towards the ocean. “Being a twin means you’re a package deal, and when one messes up, the other usually has to compensate. Since Ward expects virtually nothing of JJ, he expects everything from me. And I love my brother, but he leaves me no room to run wild.”
John B wasn’t sure what to say, which wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, so he opted for silence. Thankfully, Sarah was fairly quick to break it.
“I guess I’m sort of doomed to a life of bubble wrap and high expectations.”
“Well,” he began, lightly nudging her to get her full attention. “At least now you know where to go when you want out.”
She smiled up at him gratefully, and there was a shyness to it that he’d not seen before. After a few more moments of quiet, she asked, “So, do you come up here very often?”
“Yeah, it’s one of my favorite haunts.”
“Huh,” she quipped, raising her eyebrows. “I guess I just never heard JJ mention it.”
John B sighed internally. He knew he was going to have to talk about this at some point, and sure, he hadn’t been expecting Sarah Cameron of all people, but somehow in the moment, he felt more open to talk about it with her than anyone else.
“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s because I’ve never brought anyone else up here before.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah it was, um, my dad’s favorite place…” his voice trailed off a bit. “Before, y’know…”
Suddenly, a small, warm hand wrapped tightly around his. He hesitantly looked down at Sarah, not wanting his face to reveal that his heart had skipped a beat. He’d never been one for sympathy from others, especially after his dad went missing, but the look on Sarah’s face melted that ice inside his chest.
“I’m really sorry, John B.”
“It’s okay,” he reassured her with a small smile, before averting his gaze to the ocean. “I know he’s out there somewhere.”
“Well,” she said jovially, giving his hand a small squeeze. “I hope when he gets back, he isn’t too mad you gave out his secret spot to a Kook.”
He tsked and shook his head, “Jeez, I don’t know… Treason’s a serious crime on both sides of the island.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry, John B,” she assured him, before leaning in to whisper in his ear. “It’ll be our secret.”
John B could’ve gone the rest of his life without seeing Sarah Cameron, and he wouldn’t have forgotten the way her hushed voice sounded in his ear, the warmth of her hand in his. The way she’d looked at him when he spoke about his father, with kindness and understanding rather than annoyance, he’d never be able to forget it. His emotions betrayed not only him, but his best friend as well, yet somehow, John B couldn’t seem to care.
Damn him to hell, he’d fallen for Sarah Cameron, and couldn’t bring himself to be even the slightest bit upset about it. But with that realization had come another: The realization that it would never, could never, happen. John B would have to simply admire from afar, just like he had at 10 years old. That was, if he could outrun the DCS for that long.
They’d come looking for him again three days after his adventure, and by some miracle of God he’d managed to outrun the cop and the social worker, ducking into a shed on Figure Eight until it got dark enough for him to run without being seen. He’d made it to Kiara’s house and scared her shitless by climbing through her window, but she’d given him an air mattress in the back of her massive, yet relatively empty closet. He’d been alternating between that, and a dusty old mattress in Pope’s attic, surviving off of sandwiches and granola bars for two weeks straight.
And yet, through it all, he never stopped thinking about the Kook princess. He figured that was why, when JJ suggested they all crash Rafe’s weekly beach party, he instantly agreed. Kie tried to talk him out of it, considering he was basically a fugitive, but he knew that the only people looking for him were the cops, and none would be present. At least, they weren’t supposed to be, but things rarely worked out for him the way they should.
John B had been milling around the outskirts of the party for about an hour, having only caught glimpses of Sarah from where he stood. A small part of him wanted to stay as far away as possible, afraid of reaching the point of no return. The other, far more brazen part of him, couldn’t get enough, and that was what had gotten him to a Kook party in the midst of hiding from the cops. Sure, it was a stupid risk to take, but so was falling for Sarah Cameron, so John B figured he’d get the most out of it. He watched in amusement as one particularly drunk Kook went face-first into the sand, when a familiar voice piped up behind him.
“Well, well, well, look who’s committing treason now?” John B turned to see Sarah walking towards him, looking far more casual than she had after abandoning the last party. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. “Aren’t you supposed to be my hideout when I ditch these things?”
“I’m afraid my services may be a bit lacking tonight,” he sighed. “You know how much JJ loves messing with Rafe, so when he asked me to help crash his party, I simply couldn’t refuse.”
Sarah crossed her arms and raised a brow, “And there’s no other reason you decided to come?”
“I mean, I’ve heard the beer is better, but other than that-- ow!” he jokingly yelped as Sarah swatted at him.
“I haven’t seen you for two weeks and all you can think about is beer?”
“Alright, alright, I may have other reasons,” he conceded, putting his hands up in surrender.
“Mhm,” she hummed, a smirk across her face. “Where have you been anyways?”
“Yeah, about that…” he trailed off. “DCS caught up with me and I made a break for it. I’ve been alternating between an air mattress in Kie’s closet and one in Pope’s attic.”
“So now you’re a traitor and a fugitive?” Sarah teased, raising her brow.
“Something like that,” he chuckled.
For a moment, they just looked at each other. There was a sparkle of mirth in Sarah’s eyes that he couldn’t seem to get enough of. John B could’ve stayed that way forever, but he realized that they’d probably been staring at one another for too long.
“So, uh,” he cleared his throat, breaking the trance. “About that beer, want one?”
“Why not?” she shrugged.
He pushed off of the fallen tree he’d been leaning against and gave her confirmatory finger guns before heading towards the crowd of people further down the beach. John B tried to mask the smile threatening to spread across his lips, attempting to distract himself by scanning the crowd for the other Pogues. He couldn’t seem to spot any of them, but he figured they were off doing their own things. He was nearly to the keg when suddenly, a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
He turned around, only to come face-to-face with Topper Thornton, Sarah’s insufferable Kook boyfriend.
“Hey, Top. Long time, no see,” he said nonchalantly.
“What’re you doing here, John B?” he questioned, as if they weren’t on public property to begin with.
“I was invited,” he explained dryly.
“Oh yeah, by who? Was it Sarah?”
Oh, he thought, that’s what this is about.
“Nah man, wrong twin…”
Topper chuckled humorlessly, “Really? I saw the two of you talking.”
“Yeah, it was a really lovely conversation,” he said jovially, unable to resist pushing Topper’s buttons at least a little bit. That may have not been the wisest decision, considering Topper’s response.
“You think you’re funny, man?” he spat, shoving him.
John B reflexively shoved back, practically hissing, “Chill out, dude.”
They were now chest to chest, clearly having drawn the attention of the people around them, who’d backed away a bit. Topper got even further in his face, and John B forced his clenched fist to stay by his side.
“You better stay away from her, Pogue,” he warned, his voice practically a growl.
“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”
“You already have one Kook slut to f—“
Topper didn’t get to finish his sentence. Instead, he was interrupted by John B’s fist colliding with the side of his face. Maybe he’d picked up that protectiveness from JJ, he wasn’t sure. Where he’d gotten it didn’t really matter though. Kiara was the closest thing to a sister he’d ever had, and nobody was going to insult her in front of him.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t nearly as proficient as JJ when it came to fighting. This fact was quickly proven when Topper tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him and sending the crowd around them into a frenzy.
Topper landed two or three blows, before John B managed to send his fist into the other guy’s throat. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to do much more than piss him off further. The next blow collided with his nose with a loud and painful crack. He thought he heard a girl’s voice yelling, but with the pain radiating through his face, he couldn’t be sure of anything. That was, until he saw Sarah appear behind Topper, yelling muffled words and clearly trying to pull him off. He reared back to let his fist fly again, and when Sarah tried to grab his hand, Topper jerked his elbow into her abdomen, sending her stumbling back onto her knees.
As soon as she hit the sand, John B felt as if someone had injected pure adrenaline straight into his arm. With strength he hadn’t even realized he had left, he sent a killer right hook into Topper’s jaw, knocking him off of him. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done next, still too dazed to move, but John B guessed he’d never know.
Before Topper had the chance to right himself, some commotion happened a few hundred yards up the beach, which sent him scrambling in the other direction. Everyone else followed suit, and in his current state, John B couldn’t bring himself to care about what had caused everyone to scatter. He let his eyes close, but was quickly brought back to reality by someone grabbing his arm.
“John B!” a familiar voice called, his hearing finally returning to him.
He opened his eyes to see Sarah, trying to pull him to his feet.
“John B, come on,” she said breathlessly. “We have to get you out of here.”
He finally got to his feet, upon which he realized that the cops had shown up. Thankfully, they were still a few hundred yards up the beach.
“Shit, you’re bleeding,” Sarah said, her eyes glassy with concern. John B went to touch his face to find the source of the blood, but she grabbed his hand before he could. “Let’s go.”
He was in no position to oblige, so he simply followed, going whichever way she pulled him. They ran what he guessed was probably a quarter mile down the beach, skirting along the tide, where the sand was easier to run on. Thankfully, the run managed to shake off the remaining daze that Topper’s punches had given him. They jumped the fence of a house on the waterfront, which put them on the opposite side of the neighborhood from Tannyhill. From there, they cut through backyards, avoiding street lamps and laughing as they ran like hell after tripping motion sensor lights. After a good thirty minutes of running, they finally made it to the Cameron family’s massive estate.
“Now what?” John B asked in a whisper-yell as they made their way around the backside of the house.
“Just follow me,” Sarah whispered back, grabbing his hand again and leading him towards a white trellis on the backside of the house.
“Going up?” he asked, raising a brow.
“How else do you think I sneak out for these things?” she replied, smirking.
She climbed the trellis with ease, and John B followed after a few moments of hesitation. The wood felt fairly flimsy, so he went as quickly as he could while praying it didn’t collapse under him. As soon as he’d squeezed through the window, she was dragging him into the ensuite bathroom. Sarah shut the door behind them, leaning against it and sighing in relief.
After a moment’s respite, her eyes retrained on him.
“We have to get you cleaned up,” she said, nodding her head towards the countertop. “Have a seat.”
John B wasn’t in much of a position to resist her help, so he went with it. He planted himself firmly on the counter and watched as she gathered supplies from various drawers and cabinets. He’d never seen Sarah so determined, and he was a bit confused as to why she was taking this so seriously.
Finally she settled in front of him, her hands on his shoulders so she could examine him. Sarah’s first move was to dab a wet paper towel under his nose, causing him to wince in pain.
“Sorry, sorry,” she grimaced, trying her best to be gentle.
“Is it broken?” John B asked tentatively.
“No, just a little crooked,” she deadpanned, earning a look from him. “Kidding, sorry, bad joke.”
“Is it still bleeding?”
“No, but that gash on your forehead is,” she said, reaching for a fresh cotton pad and the bottle of peroxide. “Close your eye, I don’t want this dripping into it.”
John B knew she was fussing over him far too much. “Sarah, you really don’t need to—“
“Shh, just accept your fate,” she whispered, a smile playing across her lips.
John B rolled his eyes half heartedly before closing his right one. She pressed the pad to the wound and he bit back a shout, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles went white.
“Besides,” she continued, dabbing the gash a few times. “This all happened because of me, so it’s the least I can do.”
It all made sense now. Her determination to help him had been out of guilt, and guilt that wasn’t hers to bear in the first place.
“That was not your fault, Sarah,” he stated firmly.
Sarah placed her hands on her hips and looked at him expectantly, “So Topper wasn’t pissed that you were talking to me?”
“Okay, maybe he was…”
“Mmm, yeah,” she nodded, unwrapping a bandage.
“But I punched him because he called Kie a slut,” he insisted, refusing to let her take the blame.
“Still, he wouldn’t have said anything to you if it weren’t for me,” she said, averting her eyes from his gaze.
“Hey,” he began, calling her attention back so her eyes met his. “No matter what Topper’s reasoning was, it wasn’t your fault. A shitty guy doing shitty things isn’t your responsibility. Stop blaming yourself for it.”
Sarah gave him a small, appreciative smile before placing the bandaid over the gash and smoothing it down.
“You’re all done,” she declared, stepping back to admire her work. “Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.”
John B would’ve turned to examine his appearance in the mirror, if something else hadn’t caught his eye first. Sarah’s knees, which were no longer obscured by the countertop, were angry red and covered in scratches that were bright with blood.
“Woah, Sarah. Your knees.”
“Oh, yeah,” she looked down at the damage and winced. “Guess I must’ve fallen onto a shell deposit.”
“Looks like it’s your turn,” he smirked, hopping off the counter. Sarah simply rolled her eyes and switched places with him.
John B followed the same procedure she had, wetting a large cotton pad with peroxide.
“Alright, this is gonna sting,” he warned.
“Just do it,” she insisted. She took a deep breath before he pressed the pad to her knee. “Fuck!” she halfway yelled, grabbing onto his other hand tightly.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he whispered, before moving to the other knee. She winced hard again, and despite his attempts to be gentle, he really just wanted it to be over with. He’d quickly realized that he hated seeing Sarah in pain, so he tried to be as quick but as careful as possible. Thankfully, after dabbing each knee only a few times, he’d cleaned up all of the blood.
Sarah released his hand once he’d finished, sighing in relief. He reached over and grabbed two large bandaids, unwrapping them before carefully smoothing one over each knee.
“All better,” she said with a smile. Despite the pain she’d been in only a few moments before, John B thought she was radiant. He was pretty sure he’d never get over feeling like that. The sun would always rise in the morning, the earth would always turn on its axis, and he’d always think she was the most beautiful person he’d ever known.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, looking down at where his hand rested just above her knee. “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for trying to help me on the beach, and for bandaging me up.”
She took his hand again, her grip much softer than it had been a few minutes ago. The move called his eyes back up to hers, which were full of light and quiet excitement.
“That’s what friends are for.”
Part of him knew that he should’ve bitten his tongue, should've just agreed before bidding her goodnight. But of course, his heart took precedence over his head.
“Friends? That’s what we’re calling this?”
With those words, John B knew he’d just opened Pandora’s Box, and there would be no way of closing it.
“What do you suggest we call it then?” she asked, intertwining her fingers with his and making his heart jackhammer in the process. “Co-adventurers? Accomplices? Partners in crime?” she grinned.
John B chuckled lowly, “It doesn’t really matter what we call it but, look, Sarah. You were right about me having other reasons for coming tonight.”
“Really?” she asked with mock surprise. “And what might those be?”
Holding nothing back had not been his plan, but John B’s brain decided to do it anyways.
“Well, for starters, I’ve been hiding from the cops for two weeks and somehow you’re all I’ve been able to think about.”
Sarah’s face fell from amusement to a look he couldn’t quite place.
“Oh,” she said, inhaling sharply. “Well, I’d say that’s a pretty big ulterior motive.”
John B looked down at their interwoven fingers, brushing the pad of his thumb across the back of her hand. “We can’t just walk away and pretend like this never happened,” he said quietly.
Sarah swallowed hard, “I thought this was supposed to be our secret, John B.”
He looked back up, his eyes locking onto hers.
“I don’t care who knows, Sarah. Not my friends or your Kook boyfriend,” he told her with intense honesty. “Look, maybe it’s because I don’t have much going for me right now, but the two nights I’ve spent with you have somehow managed to be the best of my entire life.”
Sarah’s eyes were wide and shining as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You really mean that?” she asked, her face inching ever closer to his.
“I can’t keep pretending like I don’t,” he confessed, the volume of his voice matching hers as he leaned in closer.
“You know this could be dangerous?”
“I’m willing to risk it,” he admitted breathlessly, his gaze falling to the lips that were painfully close to his own.
“No risk, no reward,” Sarah said with a tiny smirk, now staring at his lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
“If you don’t, I’ll be—“
He didn’t let her finish, cupping her jaw with his free hand and pressing his lips to hers. Kissing Sarah Cameron was like catching the first wave after a hundred wipeouts or cool water against a burn. Kissing her was victory and surrender all at once, and John B couldn’t get enough.
Both of her hands found their way to the front of his loose button-down, grasping at handfuls of fabric as she kissed him back. His hands dropped to her waist to hold her tighter, prompting Sarah to throw her arms around his neck and pull him closer for easier reach. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her legs wrapped loosely around his hips, setting every nerve ending he possessed on fire.
Eventually, they broke apart, foreheads resting against one another. John B’s lungs had been screaming for oxygen, but the rest of him could’ve continued on forever.
“Friends, huh?” he asked breathlessly.
“Yeah, we might have to rework that one,” Sarah laughed. “Let’s just hope we aren’t hanged for our crimes in the meantime.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, cupping her face between both hands. “But they’ll have to catch us first.”
He kissed her again, the sheer gravity of it all making his stomach flip. John B felt as if he was diving headfirst into eternity, and he’d gladly do it a million times over.
Falling in love with Sarah Cameron was the dumbest thing John B had ever done, but that didn’t mean he regretted a second. Sure, he was tying his own noose. But if the time came, he’d go to the gallows a happy man, the feeling of her lips permanently burned into his own.