Chapter Text
June, 1996.
KJ’s been back in Stony Stream for three days and she already wants to go back to New York.
The first half of the month had her stuck between a rock and a hard place, the rock being Lauren and the hard place being her parents. Lauren, as sweet as she is, had invited KJ to join her for the summer at her parents’ vacation home in Saratoga Springs, and KJ was elated at first. She wanted to accept without hesitation, but couldn’t, despite her not-so-passive attempts to sever ties with her parents.
She tried to make New York hers, all hers, with no intervention. She refused her trust fund. She refuses help with rent. Receiving any form of financial aid from them would be a plotting device designed to blow up in her face, and KJ's not even going to entertain that. Not that she needed to- she doesn’t need them anymore.
Even so, she felt a sense of obligation to return to Stony Stream; so, the hard place ended up governing her life once again. It was odd, the offer to come back two years later. Aside from the weekly phone calls, the first summer away was close to radio silence. KJ wasn’t friends with Lauren then, so she spent the summer alone: working and taking up useless hobbies to keep her nimble mind sane. Most weren’t suitable for her. Especially pottery, she was really bad at pottery, but KJ wishes she stuck to it, though, on the off chance that she’d be at her apartment, content making picturesque vases alone, instead of having to tune out her mother for the last seventy-two hours.
Nora Brandman: Queen of Nit-Pick.
Karina, why did you cut your hair? It looks much better when it’s beyond your shoulders.
Take those bracelets off, you look like a delinquent.
Wear some color, sweetie, those shades wash you out.
KJ is her porcelain doll.
She sits on the shelf, unwanted and rotting, left to be caked with dust; an eternity of waiting and entrapment. That's her life until her handler gets bored enough to play with her. A schedule, like clockwork. She’ll be cleaned off, gently and with precision, and she’ll be shiny- just for a moment or two. She’ll have her clothes changed, her hair brushed, and for a fleeting moment in time, she’s spellbinding. She’s the galaxy, she melts in the palms of hands…
But then interaction becomes tedious.
Her hair becomes a chore, changing clothes loses its merit, and KJ is tossed back on the shelf. The cycle continues: she’s left until a match-like memory burns remembrance into her mother’s mind.
She thinks about this as she sits in the back of her father’s Rolls-Royce, it’s hard not to. Her head is rested against the window, her eyes blankly following the long grass of the countryside, as her parents converse. They’re yapping about the Summer Kick-Off, which KJ doesn’t give a single shit about. Her parents got a membership when she left, to her dismay, meaning events like this were now routine to them. She’s being dragged to a party, primmed and dressed in clothes she wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. Her handler got to her again.
Maybe that’d be a good movie idea.
“Karina.”
KJ blinks a few times. Her eyes dart to the rear-view mirror, where Ozzie’s meet hers. Instinctively, she straightens up.
”Did you hear me?” He turns down the radio.
”No…” She mumbles. “Sorry.”
”I asked if you were excited, hon. You’ve missed a lot. Management changed last summer, and these little parties are a real hoot.”
”Oh.” She bares her teeth, but it’s not a real smile. “Yeah. Can't wait." Her reticent reply seems to satisfy him. He looks away.
She leans against the window again, protecting her temple with her hand. Ozzie and Nora bleed into muted conversation as the car travels down the road. Concrete begins to replace nature after a while, a sign of their impending arrival, and KJ centers herself in the window. She stares at her hell as they swerve into the porte-cochère. It's busy as they wait in line, with cars jam-packed into every available space and people emerging from every which way. KJ feels like a lamb being lead to slaughter.
Once they finally get out of the car, Ozzie takes the time to charm the parking attendant. Nora patiently lingers, used to his overbearing sociality, and KJ pauses to behold the building in front of her. It seems much smaller than when she was twelve.
The craftsman-style extravagance is almost unchanged, except for an increase in modernization. The pointed, cross-gable roofs are secured with white pillars. The exterior is furbished with toasted-marshmallow colored stone. The front windows, there’s more of them now, allow KJ some insight into this now-foreign universe:
A woman is standing in the lobby, drinking a cocktail. She’s wearing a bright red peplum dress, with an eager child attached to the skirt. With each tug, she takes another sip. There’s a man putting a lei on, who she presumes is, his wife. She smiles and cups his face as she kisses him. There's numerous little moments of humanity.
These small displays fail to lessen her aversion to these people, however. It makes her skin itch.
Or, maybe, it’s the satin of her unbearably uncomfortable tank-top.
-
The lobby is a memorable experience.
Luau-themed decorations plague the entirety of the building, as far as KJ can tell. Totems and fake torches. Banners, floral displays, and fake palm trees. Lei stations (with signs that say “Don’t Be Lei-me!”) by every doorway. The front desk is decked out, tiki-style, with a hawaii-shirt-wearing clerk that greets everyone. They wade through the faint smell of barbecue and the fainter sound tropical music as Ozzie checks in. KJ covers her mouth with her palm as she stands behind them, trying hard to contain her laughter, because-
This is Ohio. Fucking Ohio, and there’s tropical music playing.
As KJ follows her parents to the dining hall, a voice speaks in the chambers of her mind, one she hasn’t heard in a very long time. It gives her goosebumps as it states-
“Fuckin’ rich people keep themselves busy with the most pointless shit.”
And the voice is wise, apparently.
The dining hall is just as lively as the lobby.
No servers, all patrons, because the Kick-Off is serving buffet-style. Rows of grass-skirt lined tables, filed like columns, are clustered with food; almost to the point of madness. The collision of smells is almost nauseating. Her father hands her a plate and they disperse. KJ scans the tables as she wanders, uninterested in most of the food she sees; except for fruit, tropical salad, and teriyaki chicken.
She’s the first to sit down. The music is louder in the dining hall, but even so, the constant hum of conversation seems to muffle it. She unravels her silverware and pokes around at her plate, just to seem busy while she sits alone. Inescapable boredom rapidly sets in.
Her parents sit a few minutes later. Ozzie’s prepared to eat anything that’s not tied down, while Nora just has buttered rolls on her plate. She has an affinity for bread. KJ’s always found it odd.
People quickly fill the tables around them. They’re bustling with life, beaming and giddy, and KJ almost feels guilty for not feeling the same. She stares out the only window in the room, a massive sun-clad frame, while they eat. It’s almost seven o’clock by now. The sun suspends in the sky, crooked and fleeting. So far, it’s the only thing here that continuously keeps her interest.
Periodically, she returns her attention to the table and absent-mindedly tunes into their words. There’s chatter about grocery lists, misplaced mail, and other mundane topics that don’t require her input. She's picking off a piece of rough skin on a chicken chunk when her mother breaks her focus.
”Sweetie.” KJ looks up. “We have someone joining us.”
The chicken falls off of her fork as she jerks. A surprise is the last thing she expects. “Wh- we do?” She blinks, slightly dazed by how distant she she's been. “Who?”
Nora tilts her head down and smiles. KJ’s heart drops.
It’s never good when she smiles like that.
”Well, it’s a bit of a surprise. Someone who’s excited to see you.” She clasps her hands together and smiles at Ozzie, who’s in the middle of brutalizing a chicken leg with his teeth.
KJ drops her jaw to speak right when she sees a man approaching them. He’s unrecognizable at first, but she sees his teeth before anything else, and…
Son of a bitch, it’s Rick.
Rick is gliding across the hardwood, as if he’s on cloud nine, with a lei in his right hand and a flower crown in his left. KJ gulps.
Now, she and Rick have an interesting, unrequited history.
Ozzie knows his father, who’s also a staple in Stony Stream, so KJ’s seen a lot of Rick. In fact, she saw him just before she left at her going-away party. It was small and familial-based, but, unfortunately, he was invited. KJ knew why. Nora forced them together at every opportunity, a not-so-slick puppet master that enjoyed playing Cupid. That night progressed terribly, and it went like this:
She seated them together at the dining table.
She maneuvered conversation to pertain to them.
She asked them, them specifically, to help her clean up…
Then she left them alone.
It all happened fast.
They were in the kitchen, washing dishes, when Rick leaned in to kiss KJ. She panicked and dropped a wine glass to break the “moment,” but it didn’t work. He was towering over her, reeking of aftershave, and fight-or-flight kicked into overdrive. In desperation, KJ intentionally jammed her thumb into a shard of glass. She dramatized her pain and fled to the bathroom, leaving him alone and confused. She hid in there until she was retrieved by Nora, who forced the door open. KJ sat coiled in the bathtub, a rag wrapped around her thumb, with mischief rampant in her eyes.
Now, that didn't go over well, but the look on Nora's face was worth it.
That should’ve been the end of it. That should have been a flagrant indication of KJ's aversion, but Nora ended up giving her pager number to Rick, who tried to contact her frequently. She’s avoided every single summon; now, here he is in the flesh, and real life can't be ignored. KJ wonders how secure the window is. She’d like to crash through it.
”Rick?” KJ harshly whispers. She stares at her thumb for a second, feeling distressed at the memory, and leans into her mother’s side. “Mom, please, I’ve told you that I’m not interested in him-“
She raises a hand. “No argument, Karina. He’s a good boy. Give him a chance.”
I could give him a million chances, but he’d never get anywhere, goddamnit.
KJ sighs and straightens up out of habit.
Ozzie stands when Rick gets close, readying himself for a greeting. “There he is!” They unite in a hug, a clash of genuine feeling, and KJ wants to throw up.
When they depart, Nora takes a stand. Her eyes crinkle for Rick as she places her hands over his, and KJ feels jealousy pierce her heart like a poison-tipped harpoon. She doesn’t stand for him. Her salutation is a thin-lipped smile, stretched and pained, and a single nod in acknowledgment.
“Rick.”
He smiles. His pearly whites are too pearly, blinding like stadium lights. Disgust makes her stomach turn. “Karina!” He approaches her side and grabs her hand, planting a kiss across her knuckles. KJ tenses and the hair on her skin shoots up like a rocket.
“It’s been a long time, babe. You never answer my pages.”
Don’t call me babe.
Her ‘smile’ stretches more. “Sorry. Been busy.” She itches the back of her neck and averts her eyes from the table, escaping the 'no-you-haven't' looks from her parents.
He nods, undeterred. “No problem. Well, I saw you didn’t have these bad boys, so-“
He puts the lei around KJ’s neck, lifting her hair for her, and sets the flower crown on her head. It hangs crooked, but it’s not as endearing as the sun. So much contact, too much contact, that KJ finally stands just to get away from him. She looks down and awkwardly repositions the sunset-hued lei while he mutters something, likely unimportant. She wonders if the homicidal desire she feels is manifesting in her face.
”Thank you…Rick. Uh, good to see at least one familiar face here.” She forces the lie out, but it almost sticks in her throat.
They seat themselves once again.
”Aren’t you hungry, dear?” Nora asks, concern lining her voice.
Rick shakes his head and lifts a palm. “No, I ate before I came here. I just wanted to say hi. To Karina, too, of course.“
Her parents chuckle. The attention makes KJ want to crawl out of her skin. Hearing 'Karina,' especially from him, only heightens her fantasy of escaping through the window. She clears her throat and pokes at a piece of pineapple on her plate, avoiding conversation. It's successful, until Nora says-
”Karina, sweetie, why don’t you tell Rick about business school?”
And there it is.
KJ sticks her tongue into her teeth and fights the urge to fling the piece at Nora’s face. “You see, I would, but I’m actually not at business school, Rick.” She slams her fork down. “I’m a film major, no matter how much my mother likes to pretend otherwise.” An ambiguous, targeted statement at its core. It pertains to a lot of things regarding their relationship. Everyone knows it.
Nora looks down at her lap. She sinks in her seat a little, giving KJ the cold shoulder by turning her body a bit as she takes a sip of her tea. The air turns cold.
“Wow, uh…” Rick’s mannerisms hint discomfort. It’s nice to see, really. Proof he’s human and not an emotionless, trust-funded robot. “That’s- that’s cool. How’s that going?”
”Fine," she hums. "More stressful than you’d think. When next semester starts, I have this thesis-“
”Rick, why don’t you tell Karina about that business model of yours?” Nora turns back to KJ and places a stern hand over hers.
KJ flicks her eyes down at their fusion. Being interrupted is one thing, but being blatantly disregarded is another, and KJ’s mood officially turns sour. Took longer than usual, surprisingly. She looks around the table to see if anyone else felt the same on her behalf. Ozzie ignores it, as usual, but Rick isn’t sure how to react. He pauses for a bit before continuing on.
”Oh. Sure.” He intertwines his fingers and sets his hands on the table. “So, business models are based on a cycle, right? Well, I-“
His grating voice is drowned out by the undulation of blood in KJ's ears. She stops listening, she stops breathing- all she can feel is their overlapping hands. The touch is searing like a brand, it feels like resignation, and it makes KJ’s hand tingle. She swallows hard and tries to brush it off as a flesh-wound, but Nora is nodding and smiling at Rick like he’s her own, and, suddenly, it’s as if she’s hurtling towards a black hole.
”Excuse me-“ KJ abruptly stands, her chair flying backwards. The napkin in her lap slams on the table and she walks away without hesitation. She can hear protests from her mother, but it only encourages her to speed up.
She darts out of the dining hall and stands near the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. The chance of finding solitude is slim since people occupy every crack and crevice of this place. She ducks and dodges as she crosses the lobby, trying to stay out of the way, and she tears through the bathroom door. A woman at the sink closest to her glares as she reapplies her lipstick. KJ dismissively waves a hand at her and lingers in front of the neighboring sink, resting her weight on the counter as she stares at the porcelain.
Porcelain.
They’re one in the same.
”Fuck.” She whispers to herself, shaking her hanging head.
The flower crown falls. She sighs in frustration and forces it back on, properly this time. Why, she isn’t sure.
She switches the water on and cups the coldness in her hands, dipping down and splashing it on her face. Her head tilts up so she can stare at herself in the mirror. Droplets collect on her eyelashes, the grooves of her face, and the curvature of her bottom lip. She watches them fall.
It’s therapeutic. Cathartic, like an art performance. It reminds her she’s not a doll. It reminds her she’s a person.
It reminds her she doesn’t have to put up with Nora’s bullshit.
KJ sniffles and pats her face dry. Her exit from the bathroom isn’t nearly as dramatic as her entrance, because she’s made the decision to find a drink instead of going back to the dining hall. She could handle her parents, just barely, but Rick unevens the playing field even more. KJ doesn’t need that. It’s only been three days.
The doors to the western patio are directly in front of her. KJ can see people standing around, drinks in hand. They look pleased. Free. It doesn’t take long until she joins them.
She blends into the crowd, sneaks a Blue Hawaiian off the platter of a wandering server, and hides away in a corner. She nurses the drink at first, but it’s good and it’s numbing, and, wow, did KJ really like pineapple. She chews on the cherry stem as she looks around.
As much as she hates to admit it, the patio is beautiful.
String lights connect from the roof of the building to secured posts, lighting the vicinity in a soft glow. Decorative flowers line the railing. The soft, lukewarm breeze of the evening puts air in KJ’s lungs again. The isolation also aids in calming her down.
Isolation adjacent, actually. The closest she is to someone is the custodian next to her, but he doesn't really count.
He’s on a ladder, back facing KJ, as he replaces one of the lightbulbs in the string lights. She blankly chews on the sip straw as she watches, her backside leaning against the railing. He’s nodding his head, much faster than the beat of the calypso music overhead, to a muffled rock song. A walkman is clipped to his back pocket. KJ giggles when he pauses, almost violently, to air-guitar. The first real instance of personality she’s seen.
He concludes his fun and shifts his body around to observe the state of the other bulbs around him. His focused eyes are level with them. The lightness in them shine in the radiance, and-
KJ feels her soul knock the wind out of her from the inside. She forces herself to look down. She can, but only briefly, because she finds herself glued to him. This has to be a dream, a nightmare, because he’s the first guy KJ is attracted to.
Ever.
She forgets she’s staring. He notices her for the first time and ceases all movement. His face widens at first, like he’s seen a ghost, before it falls neutral. He can’t look away, either, and KJ’s half-tempted to propel herself off of the patio.
It’s a silent stand-off.
KJ’s brain goes on auto-pilot to prohibit it from short-circuiting. Her hand gradually loosens its grip on her drink, resulting in the glass slipping and shattering on the floor. She jumps at the sound, which brings her back to manual operation. The liquid splattered on her feet, a pool of blue surrounding her. It drips off the patio.
Everyone’s staring, including the guy, and KJ wishes that an asteroid would strike her dead. That would be less embarrassing.
He jumps off the ladder, his boots slamming onto the concrete, and hesitantly inches forward. He's skittish, for some reason. KJ sinks inside herself as he pulls a rag out of his front pocket. He hinders, looks her up and down, and holds it out. KJ swallows and yanks it away with a shaky hand.
”Thank you…” She says, dumbly.
He smiles in response, and a lost feeling shoots through KJ like lightning. He’s shorter, by four inches at least, yet, KJ feels impossibly small. She can smell him. He smells like Pine-Sol and cigarettes. She has to breathe through her mouth because one more inhalation would leave her intoxicated beyond the capabilities of any alcohol. Something about him is…
Right. She can’t explain it.
He looks like he’s about to speak, but his mouth scrunches tight. Instead, he squats down to pick up the glass. KJ moves out of the way, with the intention to help, until someone calls her name.
“Karina!”
She jumps out of her skin, an odd rush of wrongdoing giving her pause. She clutches her chest and spins around, looking for the source of sound. Rick is standing on the opposite side of the patio, waving his arm like he just got back from war. Intoxication instantly fades and KJ feels sober again.
She turns back to help him, but he’s nowhere in sight. Neither is a single shard, though his remnants remain: the ladder, the air he once occupied, and the burnt-out bulb. KJ scoffs and scans the perimeter like her life depends on it.
To no avail. He’s gone.
KJ curses to herself as she wipes her feet, her sandals sticking to the floor. Rick comes up behind her and puts an arm on KJ’s back, to which she automatically recoils under.
”I’ve been looking all over for you. Come on, Nora and Oz-man are worried.” God, KJ hates that nickname. He had secured a Blue Hawaiian of his own, which he sips on as he looks around, blissfully oblivious to KJ's current state. She rolls her eyes.
”I needed a drink," she explains. “Clearly, it didn’t need me.” She tries to smiles at him, the first genuine one of the evening, but it dies when she’s met with a frown.
I bet he would have laughed.
Rick smacks his lips and sets his glass on the ground. ”Your mom’s mad.”
Her eyes roll back until they ache. “Yeah," she mutters. “Tell me something new, why don’t you?” She flings the rag over the railing and walks away from it all: the mess and the residual energy of her enlightening experience. Her sandals stick and slap with each step she takes, an excruciating reminder of her embarrassment.
She’s led back to the lobby, where her parents are waiting. Nora has a familiar, down-turned grimace, while Ozzie almost looks sympathetic. He fiddles with the buttons on his shirt, looking like a reprimanded child, as they all pile out of the building. The imminent closing-time rush makes it difficult. Nora is harshly saying something, but KJ’s incapable of paying attention. All she can fathom is the absent smell of Pine-sol and cigarettes. She's wonderstruck.
She can’t stop darting her eyes around, in hopes of seeing him, as they wait for Ozzie’s car to be pulled around. They stand beside the porte-cochère, caught in a terrible tension. Nora won’t look at her, Ozzie is clearly uncomfortable, and Rick is somehow ignorant to everything. His social skills diminish at the most inconvenient times.
This is one of those times, because he has the nerve to say-
”You know, I’d be more than happy to give Karina a ride.”
KJ whips her head so fast that she feels her neck twinge. “I don’t-" She sputters, bewildered. "I don't think that’s a good idea.”
”I disagree," Nora mutters and turns around as the car seems to manifest out of nowhere. She crosses her arms, an exaggeration her discontent. KJ can feel the disappointment emit from her, and she knows she really messed up. Nora falls in the passenger seat and slams her door without another word.
Ozzie tenses, shifts his weight as he peers between his wife and daughter, before settling on KJ with a guilty look. He bends down and plants an awkward kiss on her forehead. “Sorry, hon. See you at home.” He waves at them before disappearing into the car.
With that, her parents drive off into the dusk, leaving the two alone. The suddenness is almost alarming, she barely has time to process how quickly they abandoned her, but it’s not her primary concern. She has a mission, she has to find that guy, because he's been the only good part of this damned evening.
”I can find a ride home.” She touches his shoulder and immediately regrets it, drawing back instantly. “You go ahead, there’s someone I need to find.” KJ turns on her heels and takes off before he can answer, heading for the right side of the building.
“Karina, wait!“ His existence is the perfect incentive to hustle; KJ is already almost out of ear-shot. “Where are you going?” His stupid, expensive loafers crunch under the grass as he runs after her.
”I told you, I’m going to find someone.” KJ mutters, not bothering to look back or speak clearly. She’d have to care for that. “Go home, Rick.”
”Who?” He demands. KJ’s jaw becomes rigid and she knows she’s about to lose it. “You said it yourself, you don’t know anyone here.”
KJ plants her feet and whirls around. Rick is a few feet away, but it’s still too close. He cowers a bit when KJ shoots daggers his way, an innocent, puppy-like bewilderment that’s infuriating to witness; as if he’s undeserving of it.
”Mind your business." She points at the ground. "Seriously.”
He scoffs and looks down at the grass. Something inside him switches and he radiates his trademarked cockiness once again, his posture straightening. He sticks out his hip as he rests his weight on one leg and shoves his hands in the pockets of his disturbingly-tight golf shorts.
”You are my business,” he cooly replies.
That’s the breaking point.
”Excuse me?” KJ storms to him and stops when they’re eye-to-eye, a whirlwind of fury brewing in hers. “What do you think we are, exactly?”
Rick smiles, his dimples flashing, and, Jesus, does KJ want to sock him. ”I’d like to know that myself.” He reaches for KJ’s hand, but she rips it away at first contact. Rick’s smile fades as easily as it formed. “This hard-to-get act is getting old, babe.”
”You’re such a dick,” she seethes, pushing him by the shoulder. “I’m not playing hard-to-get, I am impossible-to-get, because-“ She wildly points at her ears, gesticulating her point, “-open your fucking ears, Rick. We’re never going to happen.” Her hands fall and clash at her sides before she wildly points an index finger at him. “Let me make it crystal-fucking-clear: you are nothing to me.”
The bone in his jaw tut to the side as his dark eyebrows nest over his face, casting a shadow. A storm of his own is brewing. ”Why are you being like this? You need to chill the fuck out-“ He reaches out, but KJ dodges by taking a huge step back.
”I swear to God, if you touch me, I will break your jaw.”
He takes a step forward in response. KJ steps back again and he steps forward. It's a cruel waltz, but KJ's never been much of a dancer. Rick stops and clenches his fists.
”You really are a bitch, you know that?” He spits out.
KJ’s face twists with revulsion. ”And you’re a nepotistic carbon-copy with the same lame, bullshit ideas as everyone else in this fucking place.” He looks like he’s about to hit her, and KJ desperately wants for him to try. “And guess what!” She sticks her arms out to the sides. “No one gives a shit about your business model. Especially me.” She flicks her eyes up and down, a final portrayal of her repugnance, before she turns her back to him. “Now, leave me alone.”
”Go to hell, Karina.” He calls out. KJ stops in her tracks and squeezes her eyes shut. Her pulse is pounding in her ears, she can feel her heart hammer into the flesh of her throat, and she’s about to collapse from its intensity. “No wonder your parents didn’t want you back. Your mom practically begs on her knees for my attention, and what does she do for yours?” He pauses. Her throat is on fire. “Yeah, that’s right," he continues. "Nothing, because you’re an ungrateful cunt.” She can hear him spit at the ground. “Have fun walking home.”
KJ’s chest heaves as his footsteps depart. It boils in the pit of her stomach, a cauldron of resentment, and the pot beings to overflow. KJ hears a ringing in her ears, sharp and deafening. It gets louder and louder, until-
“Fuck!”
KJ screams through gritted teeth, her hands gripping the roots of her hair. Her palms graze the stupid flower crown that sits loosely on her head, and she rips it off, slamming it on the ground. She kicks at it, her sandal getting caught in some exposed floral wire, which catches as she rips it away; and KJ is one more hitch away from going completely postal.
She’s suddenly hyperaware of herself. The tank-top, the mini skirt, and the godforsaken, sticky sandals. It confirms, indefinitely, that this was a mistake. She should’ve taken up Lauren’s offer, but, no, KJ always came crawling back, and always regretted it. Of course, Nora couldn’t leave her be; of course, she just had to pull this stunt.
She had to use Rick, knowing the mere thought of him makes KJ’s blood boil.
KJ swallows some bewilderment, cold and thick like cotton. She can process, for the first time, where she lead herself: the east side of the country club, where the dining hall is. The faint sound of laughter and the bustle of the kitchen crew leaks through the brick wall she’s staring at, and the rage comes back up like bile.
She kicks the other sandal off, sending it into the wall. It lands on the neatly-trimmed hedges that line the entire building. KJ sighs and just stands, dumbstruck, because she doesn’t know what else to do. She’s managed to piss off everyone and it’s barely been an hour.
This summer’s gonna suck.
Movement catches in her peripheral vision. She snaps her head to the right, stance solidified and fist formed in case it was Rick, but all hostility fizzles out when KJ realizes who it is.
Leaning over the railing of the elevated eastern patio, looking directly at her is...him.