chapter twenty-six
like the cat i have nine times to die

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          There were so many ways to die. About one thousand four hundred and ninety-seven ways to be exact, give or take a few. Trust her, Izzy knew. She'd researched it many times before.

          But as Izzy Windsor sprinted down an empty road, the summer air hot in her lungs, with the thought of The Wreck as her final destination, she figured this would be the worst way to die: running toward her friends while trying not to be seen by the police all the while two murderers were on the loose and she was very oddly close to the both of them. Dying like this, before she knew if John B's name had been cleared or if they even made it out of this without getting shot down by Ward or Rafe would have been the worst way to go in Izzy's mind. Because here was the thing: dying was one thing, but dying without knowing the outcome of what they had been trying so hard to fix would make her want to peel over and die a second time.

          And as she continued to run, dying was all she could think. She thought of all the times she had come so close to death but survived it. She thought it was odd . . . like the cat she had nine times to die, she supposed, but she knew she wouldn't always be so fortunate as she had been in the past. She knew eventually she'd get to her last life without even knowing it and that would be it. Life for Izzy Windsor would be no more, and that scared her more than she would like to admit. Because as she had come to realize in the past few months: Izzy Windsor did not want to fucking die. But still . . . she let herself wonder if she would survive this.

It was a devious disease: wondering what would become of herself, what would become of this body made of flesh and bone, not plastic, in the future. She wondered if fate would even let her step into the future or if it would trap her vessel in the past with all her ghosts.

But, whatever, right? She couldn't think about that right now. She had to get to the others before anyone saw her and she led them right where they wanted the so-called fugitives. So she forced herself to think about only getting back to the others. She forced herself to forget about the feeling of death looming over her, and she just ran. The need to make it to The Wreck became her only thought, her only desire. She just needed to get there and then she'd let herself rest. She'd let her aching bones be soothed, curing the injuries she sustained from being forced to jump out a window of the Cameron estate. Surely, she'd be able to breathe then. But for now, she ignored the pain shooting up her back from her fall, she ignored the burning in her legs, she ignored it all as she pumped her arms faster and continued running down the road.

The darkness of the night licked her skin, concealing her figure from any wandering eyes as she finally made it onto the road leading to the restaurant. But what she didn't anticipate was coming face to face with the traffic light that her mother passed through before she met her end. Glaring at it while on foot was something Izzy never thought she would do. If anything she thought she'd drive through the red light and meet her end as well, but that was in the past now. Now, Izzy Windsor stood on foot, glaring at the red traffic light and she just waited.

If Izzy were like the cat, if she had nine lives, she was sure this would be life number three. If she wanted to take that risk another time, she could. She was sure this wouldn't be where she met her end. It was dark and there weren't any cars around. She could do it if she was really tempted to. But instead . . . Izzy waited.

Moody and gloomy Izzy Windsor stood before the red traffic light that took her mother's life and just waited. Maybe she waited because she had been thinking a lot about death lately and it had become too much for her to risk it even when no risks presented themselves. Or maybe she waited because quite frankly she was fucking tired of running and her muscles were crying out, begging for her to stop. But then she blinked and the traffic light switched to green, and she finally felt in control of her own body. And once she felt as though her limbs belonged to herself again, she began to walk.

The Windsor girl walked through the green traffic light and headed toward The Wreck that was on her right. She didn't even look back. Not once. She just kept walking until she reached the back door of the restaurant, ran up the stairs, and then stepped inside.

The lights were turned off, casting a blanket of darkness over the restaurant and making it extremely hard to see where the fuck she was going. She could make out a few tables with the chairs surrounding them but that was all she could see before a noise distracted her search for civilization. Her eyes snapped to the noise, discovering that three figures had emerged from the kitchen.

"Iz?" the person leading the group spoke. Their voice sounded familiar, and immediately spawned a warm feeling throughout her senses. JJ, she thought for a split second. And soon enough, JJ Maybank rushed out from the shadows and hurried over to where Izzy Windsor stood by the back door. "Fuck me, are you okay?!"

Izzy didn't respond.

"Does she looks okay, JJ?" Pope muttered as he came up behind him and approached the two. His brown eyes focused on the disheveled blonde girl who hadn't said a word since she arrived. He seemed to have sobered up in the past hour, but not by much. His eyes still drooped and there was this lazy smile everpresent on his lips.

JJ only gave his friend a look. He paid Pope no mind and didn't even bother to glance at Kiara as she, too, came up behind them and approached the group. Instead, JJ Maybank kept his eyes on his girlfriend and he didn't dare take them off her in fear that if he did, she wouldn't be there when he went to look again. He watched in silence, waiting for her to give him any indication that she was alright, but she just stood there while her chest heaved up and down, almost too frantically. Then, he caught sight of blood running down her arm and all he felt was rage.

The Maybank boy took a step forward and grasped Izzy's arm in his hand. He observed the blood, quickly finding the deep gash from which it originated. "What happened?" he questioned, trying to keep his voice soft but failing miserably.

Izzy still didn't respond.

Kiara stepped in at that exact moment. She shoved in front of JJ, tearing him from his girlfriend. "Okay, if everyone could just give her some room, then she could tell us what happened," she said, her voice curt. She tried pushing the boys back but it was no use. Boys were stubborn, especially boys like JJ and Pope.

That all proved to be increasing telling as Pope shoved Kiara's hand away from him and scoffed. "Oh, because you always know what's best, right?" he spat, his words harsh and almost venomous.

Kiara only stared at him. "What's that supposed to mean, Pope?" she replied, her voice like a quiet hiss. "I'm trying to help, unlike you, asshole. You've spent the whole night getting high and fucking shit up."

The Heyward boy's jaw clenched so tightly it seemed he'd break his teeth any second. "Always on your high horse, Kie," he spat. "Starting to sound like a real Kook if you ask me."

Kiara's brows raised. "Excuse me?" she scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

The two of them stepped back but stayed close to each other. One could say they were challenging each other to prove the other wrong. But Izzy didn't care to listen in on their conversation. Their voices were loud in her brain, but the pounding in her head was enough to drown them out. Instead, she just stood, trying to catch her breath all the while recuperating from what had just happened to her in that house. She told herself to just breathe, but that was no use. She couldn't. Her lungs were sealed shut. There was no way she could breathe under these circumstances.

"Yikes, catfight," JJ muttered as he observed the two teens arguing with each other, but his voice lacked humor. He was tired, too.

That Izzy caught onto. She heard his voice and she managed to catch her breath just enough to whisper, "J."

JJ snapped his attention to the Windsor girl, his eyes narrowed in confusion. When he caught sight of the look on her face, his eyes widened slightly and he reached for her. "Hey, baby, I got you," he said in a hushed tone almost as if he were whispering to her and only her. Then, that was when Izzy couldn't take standing alone anymore and fell into him. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself to melt into him as he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back in a comforting manner. "It's okay. I got you. I got you."

Time seemed to slow as the boy made of flesh and bone held the girl made of glass while their friends fought behind them. Kiara's voice raised as she yelled at Pope, and that was when JJ had had enough (and trust him, if he was fed up then that meant something). The blond boy broke away from his girlfriend and grabbed her hand before he took off toward the kitchen, taking her with him. The two of them passed the threshold leading into the kitchen and left the seating in the back where Kiara and Pope stayed (they were still fighting which, like, big surprise, right?). But JJ paid them no mind and instead motioned for Izzy to sit on the countertop of the front counter, which she did (she would've rolled her eyes at his insistent nature had she not been so . . . out of it). He helped lift her, grabbing onto her hips, his fingers pressing against her body as he lifted her onto the counter. He knew she could do it on her own, but she seemed out of it . . . almost too tired to move, so he would be her guide.

While Izzy sat idly by, her body stiff and heart racing, JJ went around the counter and began rummaging through the boxes and cupboards for a first aid kit of some sort. It was silent the entire time. And when the silence had begun to bother Izzy too much, the blond boy finally caught sight of a first aid kit residing in one of the cupboards above his head. He flipped it open and found some bandage wrap and a cotton ball. He grabbed the supplies and retrieved a wet cloth from the built-in sink a few feet away from him before he rounded the corner of the counter again and reached Izzy. He rested the supplies beside Izzy on the counter and released a sigh before glancing at her and making eye contact.

Neither of them spoke. It was agony, a feeling the both of them knew well.

Even without any spoken words, JJ knew what he had to do. He took the wet cloth from the counter and grabbed Izzy's arm in a gentle embrace before he began rubbing off the fresh blood from her skin. He wiped the red staining her skin with the cloth until the pink of her flesh returned and there was almost no blood left to be seen. "I feel like I have déjà vu," he mumbled, quietly as he gave her a small smile. He was trying to make her feel better. She knew that. He had always done that. Sometimes she thought he did it to make himself feel better too . . . almost like he knew what would calm him so he figured it would calm her too.

"You're always fixing me up," Izzy whispered, her words like silk. She gave him the smallest smile she could manage and then placed her hands on either side of his face before she leaned forward and kissed him. It was a fleeting kiss, one filled with warmth, but she cherished it. She wasn't sure why she was so shaken up. She supposed that the shock set in after the fact and now she was stuck like this until she could shove away the unnerving feeling gnawing at her skin.

She pulled away, but JJ pulled her back in. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and brought her into him as he rested his chin on top of her head. He breathed her in and she did the same as she rested her hands around his biceps and squeezed. Her nerves calmed a second later and she felt as though she could breathe again. This was where Izzy Windsor felt safe: in the arms of JJ Maybank.

"Well—" JJ whispered into her hair— "someone has to clean up your messes. Might as well be me." He laughed lightly at his thoughts. "You're kind of like a dog, you know? Always makin' a mess everywhere. I mean you're definitely like a chihuahua or some shit because you're always yappin' and shit. Also, all those rich girls in the movies got those bitches in their purses, right? Ooo, like Paris Hilton and her little rat dog . . . so it's fitting for you."

"Paris Hilton's got nothing on me," Izzy protested.

JJ shrugged. "Well she has a rat dog and you don't, so . . ." he trailed off, biting his lip lightly to prevent himself from smiling.

Izzy shoved his chest, pushing him back a bit. "Oh, my God, fuck you," she laughed, slightly. He always had a way of making her laugh. And . . . it felt good to laugh again, especially after the last few days.

"And if you're like a dog . . . and I'm the one cleaning up after you then you're kinda', if you think about it, my dog, you could say, then what does that make me? . . . Fuck, what's the word?" JJ went on.

"My bitch?" Izzy offered.

Then this laugh boomed from JJ's lips as he shook his head. "You're such a fuck," he chuckled. "That doesn't even make sense. You'd be my bitch."

"No way in Hell," Izzy claimed. "I could never be anyone's bitch. Let alone yours."

JJ only laughed harder. "You're annoying, you know that?"

Izzy only smiled. She liked it when he laughed. He looked his age instead of the normally brooding boy who carried too many burdens for just sixteen. It looked good on him, but (and she would never admit this to him) everything looked good on him.

And with one last look at the smile gracing his girlfriend's face, JJ Maybank went back to work trying to patch up the cut on her arm. He was used to this after all. He had had a lot of practice patching open wounds. You might even say he had too much experience. But it seemed he was trying not to think about this being his area of specialty as he dabbed the blood one more time before he used the bottom of his shirt to dry off her arm. Then, he reached for the hand sanitizer at the edge of the counter near the cash register and squirted some of it into his hand.

The hand sanitizer bottle was still in his hand when he glanced at Izzy and said, "Sorry. It's the only thing I have to disinfect it," he explained, sheepishly. "It's gonna' hurt like a bitch. Prepare yourself, babe." And before his girlfriend could protest, he smeared the hand sanitizer in the open wound.

"Ow," Izzy whined. "What the fuck?" Her arm stung as she looked between the burning cut plaguing her skin and JJ's face.

"I told you to prepare yourself," he defended himself as he set the hand sanitizer back on the countertop.

"Well, I didn't think you were gonna' slap that shit on my arm," she exclaimed as she blew on the wound.

"Dramatic," JJ mumbled, humorously.

Izzy only shot him a look. She glared at him as she grabbed the cotton ball from the counter and pressed it against the cut . . . despite JJ's protests. She tried reaching for the bandage wrap to secure the cotton ball to her arm, but JJ slapped her hand away and retrieved it himself. He insisted on helping her himself, which Izzy let him (of course), but she made a point to roll her eyes and huff as her boyfriend wrapped the bandage wrap around her arm, securing the cotton ball in place so no more blood could seep through.

It was silent for a moment, but it was never suffocating. Silence was never dull when JJ Maybank was near. His presence was warm and nurturing. He always knew how to calm Izzy down with just one touch. And as the silence roared on, his hand never left her wounded arm as he inspected the flesh, making sure the bandage was secured. He seemed distraught, almost at war with himself like he was stopping himself from speaking the words on his mind.

But then . . . he did speak. "Did Rafe hurt you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Izzy hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "He's gone, J," she mumbled, her voice hoarse. "I knew he was bad, but holy fuck." She shook her head in disbelief. The boy she once knew was gone, like, actually gone. It wasn't that she loved him, because truly, she never really did. She realized that now. But she had cared for him. You don't grow up with someone, then date them and not care about them at all. She supposed that was her Achilles' heel—the fact she cared for those who never gave a shit about her. "It's like he's not even there. It's just drugs and anger . . . so much anger. He even looks different."

Something flashed in JJ's blue eyes—something dark. He resembled a feral animal, one to not even think about bothering. "Did he do this?" he questioned as he gestured to her wounded arm, all the while trying to get the words out without letting his anger take hold of him. "Did he cut you with something? Or—Or slam you against something?"

Izzy didn't respond to his questions, instead, she told him what had happened in the past hour; how she was sure she had escaped death once again. "I got in," she began, curtly. "I got Sarah out, but when I was sneaking out, I ran into him. I took him into the study so Sarah could escape without getting caught. I saw something about Peterkin in there and I couldn't stop myself. I confronted him about it. He didn't admit to it. I don't think he could bring himself to, but the look on his face . . . " Her words trailed off and her heart rate accelerated. She couldn't believe the words she was about to say. "Rafe killed Peterkin. He killed her for sure."

The blond boy nodded once. He was still quiet, almost too quiet, but if he raised his voice any more, if he let his emotions take ahold of him, he was sure he'd go after Rafe. He was sure he'd kill him. So, instead, he beckoned, "What happened after that?"

A sigh escaped her lips. "He tried to get me to come with him," Izzy said. "I told him no . . . but then he got mad. He left and I thought he was just gonna' leave but he locked me in there. I only got out because I threw a table through the window and jumped out. I guess I cut my arm on some glass while getting out."

JJ quirked a brow. "Badass," he muttered. He looked mildly impressed, but his anger fueled him more. It was clear he wanted Rafe dead; the look was painted all over his face.

"No," Izzy protested, while shaking her head. "Rafe. Rafe's out there. Who knows what he'll do."

The Maybank boy took a step back and pushed his hands through his blond waves. He dragged his hands down his face and released a heavy sigh. "I know," he mumbled, his voice softer now. The anger was still there, still gnawing at his flesh, but he had control of it now. He was more composed now. "At least you're here now. If he had—" But he never finished his sentence. He cut himself off and left it at that.

"I'm alive, though. I have, like, nine lives or something," Izzy stated, trying to give her voice a humorous tone in hopes of calming the boy down, but she wasn't sure it was working. "Besides, what can I say? Beating death is, like, my specialty." She shrugged and offered him a smile. She was sure she looked like a madwoman right about now with her hair in disarray and her makeup smudged all over her face, but she didn't care. She just wanted to see JJ give her that stupid smile. She'd feel better then.

And then, he did smile. It was a strained one, but still a small smile that made Izzy smile back at him. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, don't make it a habit," he retorted as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the girl, enveloping her in a hug.

Izzy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer. "Wouldn't dream of it," she mumbled with a smile on her face. Her smile grew as she felt him kiss her hair, and then bury his face into the crook of her neck. This was bliss. This was where she felt safe. This was—

Someone entered the room, interrupting Izzy's thoughts. "JJ, will you talk to Pope? He won't speak to me. He just keeps yelling," Kiara, who now stood a few feet away from the two blond teens, said. Her hands were on her hips and there was this look on her face. She was pissed. Wait, no, upset? Whatever, she was something and it wasn't good.

JJ pulled away from Izzy and gave the Carrera girl a look. "Well, what did you do?" he asked in accusation.

"Nothing, dude," Kiara scoffed, but the tone of her voice gave her away. She was lying.

However, JJ didn't catch onto the tone of her voice. He just sighed and gave a shrug. "Yeah, fine, I'll go calm him down, but you—" he pointed at Kiara— "keep an eye on this one—" he gestured toward Izzy, who still sat on the counter— "and make sure she doesn't jump out any more windows."

"Since when are you the responsible one?" Kiara muttered, bitterly.

JJ laughed. "Fuck off," he said in a humorous tone as he walked by Kiara. He looked over his shoulder to give Izzy a warm smile before he disappeared into the back seating area to go find Pope.

He seemed calmer now as he walked away. Good, Izzy thought. She hated seeing him unhappy. She hated when she could see evidence of the weight of the world etched into the creases burdening his face. So, she watched him go with a small, almost nonexistent smile on her face. She only wished he could stay with her because . . . and don't go rolling your eyes . . . she missed him. She didn't miss him in the sense that he was a placeholder or that he filled some kind of empty void inside herself because truthfully she had made herself whole again. Sure, he helped her fix herself (he was always doing that) but she had done it herself. It had always been her. She knew that now. She knew that she would always have herself in the most innocent and pure way possible, and that didn't scare her.

But, anyway, Izzy had missed him as a person.

Being around Rafe again had made her realize just how worthless he had made her feel for so many years. He had always made her feel like her body was all that would make her interesting rather than her mind. He made her believe that once she was old and ugly, she would cease to exist to the outside world. He made her believe that Izzy Windsor wasn't a person, but rather a body destined to be injected with botox and sculpted with liposuction to keep her youthful figure . . . or rather to keep her interesting. But being away from him, and being around people who cared about things beyond the exterior, being around people like JJ and the Pogues, made her realize that her body wasn't the only thing that made her interesting.

Because here was the thing: women were more than their bodies. Women had minds, and they had dreams and ambitions, and they had all the things that made them interesting beyond their exterior. She was so sick of being seen as a stupid little girl who let men speak for herself . . . because she wasn't that.

So, truthfully, she had missed JJ Maybank because he reminded her of a different world than the one she was born into. He reminded her of life . . . the real kind, not the kind that was glamorized in the movie theaters. He reminded her of the life she wanted to live, and (and hey, hey, hey, to reiterate again, do not roll your eyes) the life she wanted to live with him.

Maybe she was getting ahead of herself or maybe the impact from jumping out the window was finally catching up with her, but she didn't care. She was done concealing her thoughts and feelings from an audience that was watching her every move, waiting for her to fuck up again.

"You jumped out a window?" Kiara questioned, bringing the Windsor girl out of her head and back to reality.

Izzy blinked once, then turned her attention to Kiara. She stared at her for a second, taking in her appearance. Her dark hair lay in perfect (almost too perfect) tendrils, billowing across her shoulders despite the past couple of days being long and strenuous. And her brows were pinched together accompanied by a permanent frown on her slightly chapped lips. But her eyes revealed how she really felt; how she was staring at Izzy Windsor like she was looking at a ghost. There was a part of her, locked behind those brown eyes, that believed she would never see her friend again and Izzy almost didn't catch it. But she did. She caught it just in time before Kiara blinked and the look had vanished.

That was when Izzy clambered down from the counter, her feet pressed firmly against the floorboards as she finally opened her mouth. The look was enough to force the words tangled around her tongue out and in the open to be judged by the universe. "Not for, like, fun or anything," the blonde girl responded to her friend after what was probably a few more seconds than ordinary.

Kiara blinked in response, and the look had returned. It swirled in her eyes, consuming her soul as she held her breath and took in Izzy's appearance. She blinked once more before she leaped forward and fell into Izzy, wrapping her arms around the blonde girl, and pulling her in for a tight hug (a little too tight if you took into consideration the lack of oxygen reaching Izzy's lungs). But neither of them seemed to care how tight the hug was as Izzy wrapped her arms around the girl latched onto her and squeezed back. She didn't want to let go . . . like . . . ever.

"You scared me," Kiara whispered as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Pope said you'd be back in a few minutes but you never came. I thought they got you. I thought I lost you."

Izzy shook her head. "You could never lose me," she whispered back. That she was sure of. She was never going to abandon any of them ever again. She would never forgive herself if she did.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Kiara lightly laughed, but it came out as more of a scoff.

"I'm not," Izzy pressed. "I'm immortal, bitch. There's no way you're getting rid of me."

          Kiara scoffed, but a hint of a laugh was evident in her voice. "Why did you go in there? I had it under control. I was gonna' get Sarah out, but . . . " she trailed off.

          Izzy sighed. "I know," she began, quietly. "It's just I know that house. They keep all the windows locked. There was no way you were gonna' get her out. It had to be me."

          Kiara pulled back slightly. "Why do they keep the fucking windows locked?"

          Izzy shrugged. "Sarah and I snuck out through the window one night, like, last year, and Ward got pissed!" she explained, with a small smile on her face. She missed being a kid and doing stupid shit. Now, she was here. "It was funny as fuck, but now the fucker keeps the windows locked. He's overprotective or whatever."

          "Well . . . just don't do it again," Kiara warned. "You can't be jumping out windows and breaking your neck. You're not allowed to leave me alone with these assholes."

          Izzy only nodded.

The two girls pulled away from each other completely but didn't move far. Izzy put her hands on either side of Kiara's face and gave her a smile as if to say 'you're stuck with me, bitch'. And almost as if Kiara could hear those words leave Izzy's lips, she gave a small laugh and rolled her eyes with the shake of her head. She took a step back and looked at Izzy's appearance once again, and then, she was laughing.

"Your skirt," Kiara exclaimed. "It's completely ripped."

Izzy dropped her hands and looked at her skirt. Fuck, it was ripped. It was one of her favorites too. "Oh, my god, what the fuck?!" she whined. She really, really, really liked that skirt.

Kiara laughed again, this time covering her mouth with the back of her hand. "Come on, I have some extra clothes for you to put on," she offered. "I can't imagine running in that was any fun." She began to make her way to the office where all the employees sat during their breaks.

"Oh, hell, no, it wasn't, but at least I looked good," Izzy mused as she followed Kiara. She entered the office with her eyes wide as she closed the office door behind her and then took in the small area. There wasn't much there. Just a few hangers and a small desk where an old computer sat (probably where Kiara's dad did all the checkings for the restaurant).

"Yeah, I'm sure the cops were loving the show," Kiara retorted as she stood on the chair in front of the computer and reached above the cabinets to reach for something at the top.

Izzy put her hands on her hips. "I can't believe this sass," she scoffed.

Another laugh escaped Kiara's lips before she snatched something from on top of the cabinets. She turned around on the chair with a The Cure band T-shirt that appeared a few too many sizes bigger than Izzy's size, as well as some spandex shorts. "I keep them up here in case anything happens and JJ spills a whole bucket of gravy on me again," she said. "Here you go, Princess." She threw her the spare clothes without any warning.

Izzy caught the clothes, but her mind kept replaying the nickname Kiara had called her. She couldn't help but roll her eyes, but a small smile pulled at her lips, giving her away. "Oh, shut up," she exclaimed, laughing slightly under her breath. "You know JJ and his nicknames. I wouldn't be able to get him to stop calling me that even if I tried."

Kiara jumped off the chair. "Like you want him to stop," she mocked as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the closed door to the office.

Well, duh. "Shut up," Izzy mumbled under her breath. She began to undress so she could get out of her tattered and torn clothes. She kicked off her combat boots first, then she took off her skirt, tossing it aside, and then put the spandex shorts over her underwear (it was a designer pair; one that had been named after her by one of her mother's fashion designer friends (she had forgotten their name)). "When did you get so annoying?"

"When you left me with two idiots for an hour," Kiara said with a shrug. "I feel like their fuckin' mother." A groan fell from her lips as she rubbed her eyes with her pointer finger and thumb.

"You would make a great milf," Izzy proposed as she took off her shirt and tossed it aside before she slipped on the band T-shirt and shoved her feet back into her combat boots.

"Well, duh," Kiara agreed. "But if my kids are anything like JJ and Pope . . . I'm aborting them."

Izzy almost burst out laughing, but she settled for a quiet chuckle. "I don't think it works like that," she said, still slightly laughing.

Kiara raised her pointer finger. "Yet."

Izzy playfully rolled her eyes. "Shut up."

With that, Kiara swung open the office door and began walking toward the back seating area where Pope and JJ resided. Izzy, of course, followed after her as she tucked her bleach-blonde hair behind her ears and searched for JJ Maybank's figure with her eyes. She caught sight of him standing by the back door, looking through the screened-off area and out into the open. Pope stood beside him . . . and he didn't look happy. His face fell, even more, when he caught sight of Kiara and Izzy entering the open area. He rolled his eyes and released a scoff, then said something to JJ but neither of the girls could make out what he had spewed due to their distance. However, in response, JJ only shook his head and turned to send the girls a head nod.

Izzy wanted to walk over there and ask what was going on. She wanted to ask what Pope had said, but she had a feeling she already knew what or rather who it was about. Besides, Kiara needed her more right now. Pope had JJ to comfort him, anyway. (It was funny how the two most reckless of the group always ended up being the ones to mediate. Ironic, she supposed.)

Instead, Izzy followed Kiara to a booth. Kiara slid into one side and Izzy slid in after her. (She supposed she should have gone to the other side, but she didn't want to. This was one of her best friends and she needed her. Distance wouldn't help that.)

So, Izzy slid in after her and pulled her knees to her chest, and secured her arms around her legs. She rested her cheek on her knee and stared at Kiara, who was anxiously biting the sides of her fingernails as she glared at the clock on the other side of the room.

"So . . . Pope told me what happened," the blonde girl mumbled quietly, her voice not even as loud as a whisper.

"Oh," was all Kiara uttered.

Izzy wet her lips, then sighed. "He said you didn't like him back."

Kiara was silent for a moment. She blinked once, then twice, then three times before she glanced over to where JJ and Pope stood by the screen door. Her eyes lingered there for a second before she closed her eyes and released a long sigh. She leaned the back of her head against the back of the booth as she brought her knees up to her chest and secured her arms around her legs to stabilize them against her body. "It's not that," she finally mumbled before the silence could become too much. She paused. Even her breath hitched, but then she continued a second later. "He told me he loved me when we were in the middle of trying to get to Sarah. We were trying to warn her about what her father was doing and he just blurted that shit out. Who does that?"

Izzy didn't say anything. She didn't know what to say. Besides, it looked like Kiara wasn't finished.

"I'm not trying to sound heartless. It's just . . . what was I supposed to do? Say it back?" Kiara questioned, although it sounded as if she was interrogating the universe, not asking her friend for boy advice. "Love ruins things. It makes people stupid. It complicates things."

Izzy shrugged. "Not always," she mumbled before she could stop herself. Sometimes it was like she wasn't even in control of her own body anymore, like, this new person she had become had taken over. But she had caught onto her abnormal character discrepancy and cleared her throat, trying to cover up her very obvious slip-up. "I mean, like, love . . . if the real shit even exists and by that I mean . . . I mean . . . well, I don't really know what I mean."

          "Thanks, Edgar Allen Poe," Kiara mumbled, teasingly.

          Izzy only shot her an unamused look. She didn't know what she was saying. She just felt, like, not herself, but still, she gathered enough courage to continue. "Whatever, if it exists then it's gotta' be this rare thing, right? Like, I've never really seen it; I've never really experienced it, so if it exists then it's not easy to find. It's not easy in general, I think. I think love, all love, takes strength. Weak people don't love. They can't. It's too hard for them. So I think if you find it, even just a sliver of it, then you should hold onto it . . . because really, yes, it makes people stupid and yes, it complicates things, but I don't think something like that could ever ruin anything."

Kiara raised a brow. "Who turned you into an optimist?"

Who turned you into an optimist? Izzy didn't know. She quickly sunk back into the booth and averted her eyes to the table in front of her. She cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes shut as she shook her head. "Sorry," she mumbled.

The truth was: Izzy Windsor didn't know much about the world, but she sure as hell knew more now than she did a few months ago. She knew that love or at least the love she had been taught could ruin things. And while she was still trying to figure out what real love was, she realized that love, the pure kind, the kind that her mother had for her and the kind that Izzy had for her friends could fix even the deepest of wounds. And maybe, just maybe, romantic love—if given enough time to grow and flourish, if given the time to become true—could as well. Maybe then, Izzy Windsor could believe in that kind of love again.

When Izzy didn't respond, Kiara seemed to take that as her sign. "So, you believe in love now?" she questioned.

Izzy glanced at her. "I don't know," she mumbled, because she didn't know. Because, really, she knew it was true. She knew that weak people couldn't love, and she was still trying to figure out if she was strong enough to even accept it. Maybe she'd even be strong enough to experience it, but she still felt so . . . weak. She wasn't sure if that feeling was ever going to leave her be. "I believe in something, I'm just not sure what yet."

"So it exists," Kiara huffed. "Who cares? What if it's not enough?"

Izzy furrowed her brows. She had thought of this before. "It has to be," she said, quietly. "If it's that rare . . . then it's gotta' be enough." And, truly, she believed that. It had taken her a long time to realize that, but after what Sarah had said . . . she could finally admit its existence to herself. It had to be real . . . just rare. And if something was that rare, then it had to be enough. It just had to.

Kiara only shrugged. "It doesn't matter if he loves me," she stated, bluntly. "I don't want it. I want more. I want to live. I want myself. I want to go places . . . not be held back by someone."

But Izzy caught the look etched across Kiara's face. Right between her brows, where there laid a wrinkle caused by her pinched brows, resided the hint of doubt that Kiara Carrera felt as she spoke those words. Izzy had never seen it before. Sure, she thought maybe something could happen between Kiara and one of the Pogues, but she was never really certain for sure. She knew Kiara had always wanted more. That had always been a constant. But then she saw her with Pope. She saw how they were always challenging each other yet coming together to help the other. She saw the slight worry on their faces when the other was in danger. She saw the care for each other that they both shared. That wasn't something either of them could hide. That was something she didn't see often. What they had was . . . something. Maybe it wasn't rare but it was something.

"But you do . . . like him . . . ?" Izzy questioned.

Kiara didn't move for a moment, but then she nodded, slightly and if Izzy wasn't looking hard enough she wouldn't have caught it. But the nodding quickly turned to her shaking her head the more the seconds ticked by. "Not enough to sacrifice my future," she admitted, solemnly. "Look, I . . . I believe we have some power over who we love. I don't think it's all that rare, Izzy. I think it's just a matter of circumstances. I think if you get to know anyone enough, you'll love them in some way. I believe you can love anyone, and I won't sacrifice what I really want for a boy . . . for love that I can find anywhere."

The air felt thicker in Izzy's lungs. She hated the topic being so heavy, so she took a page out of JJ's book and tried to lighten the mood. "What would the poets say?" she bargained with a small smile on her face. She had never really been good with words, anyway. Maybe she knew what to say sometimes, but whatever, that wasn't a constant for Izzy Windsor.

"Good thing I'm not a poet, then," Kiara muttered, her face blank and emotionless. "I'm just a woman."

Izzy nodded. Maybe Kiara was right. Or maybe Sarah was. Truthfully, she didn't know. She didn't really know anything, but she was trying to understand Kiara's words. "You don't have to love him. It's not your fault if you don't," she reassured. "Just . . . take your own advice, Kie. Don't hurt him."

It was then Kiara turned to look at her friend. Her brown eyes were glossed over with tears as she tried to get her words out. "I don't want to, but I have a feeling no matter what I do, he's gonna get hurt somehow," she admitted in a quiet whisper. If she spoke any louder, it appeared she might burst into tears, and anyone who knew Kiara Carrera knew she hated people seeing her so vulnerable.

Another second of silence passed. Izzy despised it. It made her think. It made her think of everything that had happened in the past few days. It made her wonder if Sarah had made it to the police to clear John B's name or if she had made a detour to try and find the one boy who had ever made her heart skip a beat. And then, she began thinking about what Sarah had said to her. How she didn't even really know that JJ and Izzy were kind-of-sort-of-actually-maybe going out. (Hell, she wasn't even sure if she would believe herself if she told her.) But then she started to think about what Sarah had said about JJ. About how Izzy had to admit her feelings toward him to herself so she could finally tell him how she really felt. It reminded her of Kiara and Pope's situation. She just kept thinking and thinking and thinking, getting inside her own head and doubting herself as well, until she wasn't thinking anymore, she was speaking.

"Kie?" Izzy questioned, quietly.

A tear slipped down Kiara's cheek. "What?"

"What if you don't have to sacrifice your future?" Izzy questioned, although she wasn't sure if she was speaking to Kiara anymore. "What if it's not the future you expected but the one you grow to like more? What if it's more than what you expected? What if it's wonderful?"

It almost felt like Izzy was questioning herself as well. Because on one hand: Izzy was not afraid to have a future with JJ Maybank in the slightest. What she was afraid of was how their future would turn out. She didn't want to admit it, but if she loved him or rather if she let herself love him, and then that love turned selfish and cruel as it had for her parents, then what would become of them? What if they fell apart? Would she fall apart, too?

Perhaps the Windsor girl did actually really believe in love, but she was too afraid to admit it. Because if she admitted that it was real and it broke her, then that would have been worse than it never existing at all. Maybe Izzy Windsor was just a scared little girl, after all.

"What if it's not?" Kiara quickly countered. "What if I get trapped and end up not doing anything I want? What if I blink and suddenly I'm fifty with three kids and taking antidepressants to get through the day? What if it's miserable?"

Oh, Izzy thought. She had thought about that too, but . . . but . . .

"I guess that's the deal, right?" was all Izzy could manage. "There's always a fifty-fifty chance of something failing or working. It's just something you gotta' take a chance on."

Kiara didn't say anything.

And . . . Izzy took that as her sign to continue. "Maybe it's not what you wanted and maybe that scares you, but we're all afraid of something. Might as well try to conquer our fears while we can, right?" she asked, although, at this point, she was only interrogating herself, forgetting all about trying to help Kiara. But then she remembered she was trying to help and she shook her head of her thoughts and continued on with her speech. "You don't have to say it back. You don't have to love him, but don't completely write him off when you know how you really feel." She reached for her friend's hand and clasped it in hers as she shot her a small smile. "Besides, backpacking across the country can get pretty boring unless you have someone by your side." She reached her hand up to wipe the fallen tear from Kiara's cheek, then she let her hand fall and she shrugged. "Just a thought."

Kiara only smiled back. "You've changed."

Izzy blinked in shock. "What?"

"You've changed," Kiara said again, this time her voice warmer, brighter, more like the Kiara she knew. "You're different. Hopeful. It's . . . nice."

Izzy thought about her friend's confession for a second. She guessed she had changed. She hadn't realized it really until that moment. But she had. She really had. She didn't voice those thoughts, though, instead, she looked at Kiara and nodded. "I think life is, like, so fucking bleak without hope, Kie," was what she said next, her words full of truth. "It's all we have." Hope, it really was all they had. Perhaps, it was all they needed. To be given hope was a beautiful thing. A life without it was too bleak to live.

"You sound like your mom," Kiara replied. She scooted closer to Izzy and rested her head on her shoulder as she interlocked their arms together, settling into her spot for the night. "She'd be proud of you, Izzy. Truly."

She'd be proud of you. Those words played on Izzy's mind as the night went on. She wondered if her mother would have truly been proud of the person she was becoming. And for a second, she believed she would have. She believed her mother would have wanted her daughter to be filled with hope and chase after the things she believed in. That was why Julia Windsor always encouraged Izzy to follow her painting career. She had always wanted Izzy to be herself, and now Izzy was truly becoming her own person. She realized that now.

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The morning came quick, but Izzy awoke before the sun rose. Pain shooting up her spine and wracking throughout her body was what made her eyes flutter open before any of the others had woken up. But she didn't move. She wasn't sure if she could. She just stayed glued to the vinyl fabric of the booth she and Kiara had slept in. Kiara's head was still resting firmly against Izzy's shoulder, which didn't ease the ache in the Windsor girl's bones. She supposed the fall from escaping the Cameron estate had finally done its damage on her body, proving she wasn't invincible. It was only two stories. She didn't think anything would happen. But she knew she wasn't invincible now, really. But, for a while, Izzy thought she could survive certain shit without suffering the consequences. She supposed maybe she didn't have nine lives. Maybe Izzy Windsor wasn't invincible; maybe she was just a girl in too deep.

The Windsor girl just sat there for a few hours, going over everything that had happened in the past few days. Part of her thought it to be just a dream. That was the part of her that didn't want to move on from the past, the part of her whose life flew by her in a blur. It was the part of her she wished she could bury completely, but she couldn't lay to rest her old self without hurting the new. Because no matter what she wanted to believe, she couldn't hide from the fact that those two selves were intertwined and could not live without the other.

Deep down, Izzy knew her old self would always be a part of her. She couldn't erase the past, she had to live with it, just like she had to live with this tragedy that she and the Pogues had found themselves in. She would learn to live with both. She would learn to nurture her old self, to heal her inner child, not completely abandon the part of her that needed hope the most. She would do well to treat this situation the same. She would cling onto all the hope she could and do whatever it took to either clear John B's name or get him off that cursed island. No matter what, John B would be safe in the end. She had to believe that.

As those thoughts consumed her mind and she slowly forgot about the pain in her body, the sun began to rise. She didn't even notice that it was the morning until she saw JJ Maybank slip out from the booth where he had slept and begin walking toward one of the screen windows. For a second, she thought he was about to backtrack to the back door and leave, but instead, the boy just leaned against the window frame and watched the outside with careful eyes.

His demeanor was off. A small scowl resided on his pale face. His face looked paler than normal, paler than it ever should have been. His gaze was hard, his eyes crinkled into slits as he watched the seagulls fly by the restaurant. This wasn't the JJ everyone knew. While JJ was ripped at the edges and torn in every sense, this JJ seemed darker, harsher, maybe even a little cruel.

Go to him, Izzy heard a voice in her head whisper. And she listened.

Izzy slowly lifted Kiara's head from her shoulder, which ultimately woke the girl, but she didn't seem to notice. Kiara turned to lean against the table, burying her head in her arms as she quickly fell into sleep once more. Izzy took that as her sign to leave before she woke the girl even more and didn't get a chance to get to JJ without anyone else interfering. So, she quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the pain in her back as she stretched, then she turned and headed toward JJ Maybank, who seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

The girl quietly approached the boy, careful not to make too much noise to startle him. Like a cat stalking its prey, Izzy walked on nimble feet, her steps hit the floor like a soft pillow. The boy, however, noticed her walking up behind him, and turned to watch her. He offered her a small smile (but it didn't reach his eyes) as she reached him and leaned against the right side of the window frame.

Neither of them spoke, letting the silence consume them as they watched a police car drive by in the distance. And for a second as the silence screamed in Izzy's ears, she realized Sarah might not have made it to the cops. The police cars wouldn't still be zooming across the island if she had. Izzy tried not to think about all the horrible possibilities. She just had to keep thinking that Sarah got to John B. She got to him instead of the police and that would have to do. There was still time for her to get to the police, and if not . . . then John Booker Routledge would have to take Luke Maybank's boat and get the fuck away from the Outer Banks. But everything was still uncertain. The truth would unfold when they got to the dump at three that same day, just like JJ told John B yesterday. Izzy just had to hold onto her hope until then.

A sigh left JJ's lips a second later. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he tried to calm his breathing. But that seemed to be no use as he cleared his throat awkwardly, then opened his eyes a second later and looked at the blonde girl staring at him with wide, green eyes. "He's my best friend, Iz," he mumbled, trying not to speak too loud. "I can't do this without him."

If Izzy asked him why he was speaking so quietly, he'd probably write it off as him trying his best not to wake Kiara and Pope by talking. But Izzy knew that would be a lie. She caught the look in his eyes. She saw his eyes gloss over with salty tears that he was trying so desperately to hold back. She saw the broken look etched across his face, and she knew that if he spoke any louder, he would break down.

So, Izzy didn't push him. She didn't nudge him to speak louder or ask what was wrong. Instead, she just said, "I know." And then she stepped closer to him. She carefully wrapped her arms around one of his arms, hugging it to her body. She rested her head on his arm, her cheek squishing against his bicep as she slowly reached for one of his hands with hers, lacing their fingers together.

JJ seemed to relax under her touch, his tense muscles loosening as the girl by his side squeezed his hand. He squeezed her hand back. It appeared Izzy had a way of making JJ Maybank melt under her touch. "So, she's with him?" he asked after a minute, referring to Sarah Cameron.

"I think," Izzy confirmed, hesitantly, because truthfully she didn't know. "I got her out." And she had. But the cops were still out, so she hoped the Cameron girl had made it to John B. "But if they're still doing this shit . . . then I don't think she got to the cops. If she did, they didn't believe her."

"Fuck," JJ groaned.

Neither of them spoke another word after that. Neither of them was sure if they could. Everything just felt so heavy, so uncertain. It wasn't fair, but then again, nothing ever was. The two of them knew that notion well. But, fortunately, neither of them had to speak.

Only a few minutes had passed before Pope Heyward approached the two and leaned against the right side of the frame. If Izzy cared enough to ponder over when Pope woke up, she'd probably realize that she and JJ had woken him up with their voices. But she didn't ponder over that, she had other things to worry about. Instead, Izzy gave Pope a small smile, to which he sent back a brief head nod before a sigh released from his lips.

"Any updates?" Pope questioned, breaking the silence.

JJ only shrugged as he whipped out his lighter from his pocket and began to mess with it. "He's pinched for sure, man," was all he said as he continued flipping the lighter open and closed.

"No—" Pope shook his head as his brows furrowed low on his face— "they wouldn't still be patrolling if they caught him."

Only then did JJ glance at his friend. "Let's hope."

Let's hope, his words echoed in Izzy's head and she couldn't help but agree. Hope. It was funny, wasn't it? Yet, it seemed to be all they had left.

"You know, we were in that car," Kiara's voice entered the scene, causing the three teens to look over their shoulders in her direction. "They're probably looking for us, too." The Carrera girl still sat in the booth as she shot the group a knowing look and gave a shrug.

Izzy stepped away from JJ and leaned against the edge of a table. "She's right," she agreed. "Especially after what I did at the Camerons' place last night. We all know the first thing Ward did was go to the cops. He's told them we're in it too by now. They'll definitely be looking for us, too."

Pope could only manage a scoff, but he didn't bite back. Instead, he looked to JJ and shrugged. "Well, if we're gonna' be outlaws, we might as well help John B," he muttered before he turned around and reached for JJ's backpack, quickly grabbing the keys to the motorbike.

"So find him before they do?" JJ questioned, but Pope wasn't listening. Instead, the Heyward boy was already marching toward the backdoor with JJ following after him. "Pope?"

"I'm gonna' get gas for the boat," Pope answered in response.

"What?" JJ questioned.

At the backdoor, Pope paused and looked over his shoulder to meet JJ's questioning gaze. "I overheard you guys this morning . . . so if Sarah did get to the cops and they didn't believe her, then he's still fucked. We gotta' go with the other plan. We can't just wait for a signal to know if we're in the clear or not. We gotta' prepare for the worst," he explained. "We gotta' get him off this island. And in order to do that, we have to get gas for your dad's boat. Otherwise, we're just standing around like sitting ducks." He inhaled sharply, then exhaled almost even quicker. "So I'm gonna' go get gas for the boat and you guys are gonna' pack John B some food. Pack some for Sarah too just in case she's with him."

JJ nodded, and Izzy watched. She hated this. Something was off. She could feel it in the air. (And no, she didn't mean the fact that their friend was technically framed as a criminal.) She looked back at Kiara to find the girl watching Pope with worried eyes. Maybe she didn't love him, but she sure as hell liked him and she cared about him. And maybe that could be enough. Maybe . . . but she wasn't sure she'd ever be completely sure of that.

And just when Pope was about to step out the door, Kiara proved Izzy right another time. "Hey, you be careful," the Carrera girl said to Pope as she gave him a small nod and smile. "Okay?"

Pope only ignored her concerned gaze and turned back to JJ. "Meet me at the dock at three," he directed. "Don't be late." And then he was gone, charging out the door and heading toward the motorbike parked in the back.

The three teens left in the restaurant all gave each other different looks. JJ looked more confused than Izzy had ever seen him, and then she realized he didn't know. But Kiara and Izzy did. That much was evident by the looks on their faces. But Kiara didn't wait around long enough for JJ to catch on that he was out of the loop. She just pushed off the booth and chased after the boy she had rejected. That left Izzy and JJ alone.

JJ slowly stepped closer to Izzy while the two of them watched through the window as Pope and Kiara argued. He decided to test his luck even more by questioning, "What happened with them?"

Izzy wet her bottom lip then breathed in sharply. "Last night," she began, slowly. "When I was trying to get to the front, I ran into Pope. He said that she didn't like him back. She as in Kie."

A scoff left JJ's lips. "I knew it. I knew he had a thing for her, but he always denied it. I even asked him last night. I came up to him and he was all moody and shit. He told me Kiara said something that bothered him but he denied it being about that. What a fucker," he said as he adjusted his cap on his head. "So Kie rejected Pope's big love proposal and now they're in some kind of dog fight? Bullshit. John B's out there and they're fighting over this. It's stupid."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "He's hurt, JJ," she stated. "Have some compassion." She took off after those words left her lips, walking outside, but staying on the deck.

"Compassion?" JJ questioned with the click of his tongue while he followed her out onto the deck and leaned against the railing. "I have compassion, alright?"

"Okay," was all Izzy said as she crossed her arms over her chest. She rested her arms on the railing, leaning against it for support as she watched Pope and Kiara argue with each other. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she had a feeling she knew all too well what it was about.

"Really, Iz?" JJ still went on. "I have compassion. I'm the most compassionate guy I know!"

Izzy rolled her eyes. (He wasn't going to give this up . . . just . . . by the way.)

"I have compassion," he persisted.

"Mhm."

"Iz. Iz. Iz," the Maybank boy continued as he poked the blonde girl's arm. "Iz."

"I will bite your finger off," Izzy bit out as she slapped his hand away.

JJ put his hands up in surrender. "Ooo, kinky," he taunted with a soft laugh.

Oh, my God! Izzy was growing tired. "You're the worst," she huffed.

"In bed?" he pondered, then quickly shook his head. "Nah."

The Windsor girl was about to spit back an annoyed response, but the sound of an engine being revved cut her off. She watched, stunned as Pope shook his head at Kiara, then revved the engine to the motorbike once more before he took off down the road, disappearing off into the distance. No one spoke as he left, dust flying up in his path. Kiara was the only one who moved as she shook her head in astonishment and turned around, beginning to walk to where JJ and Izzy stood on the deck. And once she reached them, JJ gathered enough courage to break the silence.

"He'll get over it. Don't worry, Kie," JJ said, nonchalantly. His gaze shifted to Izzy and he sent her a look as if to say 'see, I so do have compassion!'.

Izzy only looked at him, unamused and with her lips pursed.

But Kiara seemed to pay this no mind as she glared at JJ. "You didn't get over it," she spat as she shoved his chest and gestured to Izzy.

The Windsor girl caught onto what her friend was saying before JJ himself did. "That's because JJ's a pussy," she explained, to which JJ . . . of course . . . scoffed.

"What is this?" the blond boy questioned in a higher-pitched tone. "Attack JJ day?"

Izzy only nodded. "Yeah, I thought that was obvious."

At that, a hint of a smile etched across Kiara's face.

Izzy saw it, too. "There's that smile," she hummed as she poked the Carrera girl's side. "It'll be okay, Kie. You'll see. You just gotta' hope it will."

"That's all we got, huh?" Kiara questioned, no doubt the conversation from last night on her mind as she spoke.

"Yep," JJ butted in as he wrapped his arms around both the girls' shoulders. "Just hope and dumb fuckin' luck."

Kiara rolled her eyes, and Izzy laughed. But their moment was cut short by the sound of helicopter blades whirring above. The sound was enough to make the three of them split apart as fear began to gnaw at their insides. They watched as the helicopter flew over their heads, heading off in the opposite direction, but they all knew why it was there. It or rather they were there for John B Routledge, their friend.

"Who is that?" JJ questioned as he squinted at the sky. But he already knew who it was . . . the tone in his voice proved that.

No one answered him.

No one could.

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Izzy wasn't sure how much time had passed since Pope left. Time was a tricky thing for her, and besides, she didn't want to think about it either. Thinking led to other things and she couldn't let herself get distracted right now. She had to focus on why they were there in the first place. She had to continue searching for food that would survive a few weeks, or at least survive long enough to keep John B and Sarah alive if things really took a turn for the worst. But her thoughts were against her. They always were, but Izzy thought she was getting better at controlling her mind. And while she had gotten better (truly she had, she knew she had), the looming thought of death seeped through the cracks in her collected mind.

She couldn't help it. The girl always had a strange thing with death, and after all the deaths that had happened in this town, it had almost consumed her entirely. And sure, she was getting better about not assuming the worst out of every possible situation, the thought that things could really go wrong with this whole plan about helping John B escape the officials kept haunting her. Because, really, what if things went extremely wrong? What if jail was not the only bad thing that could happen? What if the officials thought John B was armed and shot him down? What if Sarah got caught in the crossfire?

What if her friends died?

Izzy couldn't handle that. Really, she couldn't handle a lot of things, but helping get her friends shot would surely break her. She couldn't let the last time she saw Sarah be last night. She couldn't not have her best friend in her life anymore. Because the thing was: while Izzy wasn't sure what exactly she believed in, she knew she loved Sarah like she was a part of her family, and losing her would be like losing a limb. How could she survive that?

A cardboard box being thrown down on the counter in front of her brought her out of her mind. She was standing by the counter in the kitchen while Kiara rummaged through the cabinets, trying to find food for John B and Sarah, meanwhile, JJ was doing whatever JJ did. Izzy tore herself completely out of her mind and blinked once, then looked at the box, narrowing her brows before she blinked once more and looked to see who had put the box there. And when she glanced up, she found none other than JJ Maybank staring at her in confusion . . . and she could have sworn she saw slight concern etched into the lines in his face.

JJ touched two fingers against Izzy's arm. "You okay?" he questioned under his breath so only she could hear.

But Izzy couldn't open her mouth to respond. Instead, she shot him a small, sad smile and nodded. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so selfish so she knew how to take his feelings into consideration as well instead of making it all about herself all the time. Honestly, she felt like he was always asking if she was okay, but she never made the same effort. She wished she didn't make everything about herself. But sometimes, she couldn't help it. She just always talked about herself.

Kiara threw a loaf of bread into the box, breaking the two teens apart. Once both their eyes were on her, she glanced between them, looking as if she were about to say something, but she couldn't get the words out. She looked between them for a second longer, then squeezed her eyes shut and exhaled through her nose. "Pope told me he loved me," she blurted out without taking a second to breathe. "That's why he's so . . . Pope-y"

"Well, that's a plot twist," JJ laughed after a second. "Izzy—" he looked to the blonde girl beside him— "you didn't tell me he said he loved her."

Izzy then did find her voice. "Can you be empathetic for one second?" she questioned with a blank look on her face. She saw JJ smirk, then open his mouth to say something, but she held up a hand, cutting him off. "Don't even think about mocking me."

JJ laughed, and Izzy smiled. He always had a way of making her smile. She should've hated him for it, but she didn't. She wasn't sure she could.

But Kiara didn't seem as amused as the other two. "Whatever, forget about it," she muttered as she ignored their stares and turned around to find more food to pack. "Let's just get some shit together for John B and Sarah, okay? That's what matters."

JJ glanced at Izzy before he cleared his throat. "You sure he wasn't just being weird Pope?" he suggested to Kiara, trying to break the awkward tension suffocating the room.

"It wasn't really the kind of thing that needed interpretation," Kiara mumbled with a roll of her eyes. She quickly brought over more food, helping JJ and Izzy pack it into the cardboard box. When she was done, she put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Is that enough food for them?"

It was silent for a moment as the two girls looked at JJ for the answer. He only wet his lips and shrugged. "I mean for a couple of weeks and that's all they need, so . . . " he said as he grabbed his backpack and put it on in haste before he grabbed the box and beckoned for the girls to head for the door leading to the outside.

"Look, I think I actually hurt his feelings," Kiara mumbled, her voice softer now as she got the car keys out of her pocket and headed for the door. She kicked the door open, holding it for Izzy as she walked out.

"It won't last forever," Izzy said as she held the door open for JJ, letting the boy walk out in front of her since he had his hands full. "He's just hurt right now, but he'll get over it. You're friends before anything else, remember that."

"Yeah, don't beat yourself up too much. He's completely changed his feels," JJ agreed. "The past twenty-four hours have been like Jekyll and Hyde." He stepped off the last step and glanced over this shoulder to make sure Izzy was still there. He found her on his heels and smiled in relief, but Izzy didn't catch him staring at her, she was too busy staring ahead of them with wide, concerned eyes.

"I hate to admit it, but I miss the old Pope," Kiara hesitantly said as she unlocked the car with the key in her hand. "At least I knew what to expect from him."

And while the two of them were talking about how weird Pope had been in the past day, Izzy was looking ahead of them. She had caught sight of Kiara's mother, Anna Carrera coming toward them. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were widened slightly as her gaze roamed over the three teenagers in haste. And once she reached them, her anger set fire. "Where you been?" she questioned in a curt tone as she threw her hands up.

Kiara stared at her mother in shock. She glanced over her shoulder to find Izzy opening the trunk for JJ to put the cardboard box in the back. The two of them only stared back at their friend with equal amounts of shock and dumbfoundedness. So Kiara was left alone to come up with a response. It was a good thing Izzy knew that the Carrera girl knew how to stand her ground.

"Uh—I'm fine. I slept here," Kiara explained as she gestured to the restaurant behind her.

"Well, we were up half the night, scared to death, lookin' for you," Anna Carrera scoffed as she put her hands on her hips and shook her head at her daughter. While Kiara was rebellious and all those things, it was clear her mother never expected this from her. "Were you even gonna' tell us?"

"Well, I'm telling you right now," Kiara claimed in a hushed tone.

Izzy glanced between the mother and the daughter as they stared at each other, Anna squinting her eyes at Kiara in bewilderment, trying to figure out what was going on. But all Izzy could do was watch. She wanted to help Kiara out, but she knew that would only fuck things up even more. So, she glanced JJ's way, looking for a solution, but JJ only shrugged at her questioning eyes as he closed the trunk. He stepped away from the car, moving closer to Izzy as he fixed his red cap atop his head and watched the scene in front of him. No one knew what to do. That much was evident.

Finally, Anna Carrera spoke up. "Alright, what the hell are you three up to?" she questioned in a lower tone as she took a step toward the three teenagers. Her eyes landed on Izzy and something clouded over in her eyes. A second later she set her gaze on her daughter once again. "And since when did you start hanging around William's kid again? What the hell is going on?"

But before Kiara could respond, JJ but in. "I'm sorry, Miss Anna, we gotta' go," he claimed as he reached back to grab Izzy's hand in his. He led Izzy to the other side of the car, letting her take the passenger's seat as he slid into the backseat.

"Sorry," was all the two teens could hear Kiara say from inside the car.

Her mother shook her head. "No. I'm sorry. Absolutely not," she protested as she tried to stop her daughter from getting into the car. "Have you heard what's going on?"

But Kiara only nudged her aside. "Mom, I'll explain later," she mumbled as she slid into the front seat, but she didn't shut the door.

"Have you seen the storm?" her mother pressed, pleading with her daughter to get out of the car and come home with her. "This is not safe."

And Izzy knew what Anna Carrera was saying was true. She knew dying in a storm or being shot by the cops would have been the worst way to go. But there was nothing they could do. It was either risk their lives for their friends or let them die as innocents.

Kiara seemed to realize that as well. "I'm sorry, mom. I have to go," she mumbled, trying not to cry as she put the keys in the ignition.

"These cops are armed, Kiara," her mother went on. "You'll get shot." There were tears in her eyes now, and Izzy had to look away before she let a few tears of her own slip down her face.

"I have to go."

"I'm not letting you do this!" her mother pressed as she tried to pull Kiara out of the car.

But Kiara ripped her arm out of her mother's grasp and yelled, "Mom, John B needs me!"

Anna Carrera paid her words no mind. "You need to stay here."

"I understand. I'll be careful," was all Kiara could manage as she tried shutting the door before her mother could attempt to pull her out again. And once the door had been slammed shut, a single tear slipped down Kiara's face as she twisted the keys in the ignition and started the engine. "Sorry."

"Kiara! Open this door!" her mother screamed from the outside, banging on the window.

"I'm sorry," was the last thing Kiara said before she stepped on the gas.

"Stop it right now!" her mother persisted even as the car began to drive down the road. "Right now, Kiara! This is not safe! Stop!" Her yells were still able to be heard even as the car began to make its way onto the main road. It was a haunting echo.

And as they drove, only the silence welcomed their ears. Izzy swallowed hard, trying not to think about the future and how they could all die. She tried not to think about it, really, she did. But it was no use. She remembered the look on Anna Carrera's face, and it haunted her. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself if Kiara died and she had to reveal that to her mother. It'd surely break her, and Izzy knew it. Hell, Izzy was carrying around the memory of her mother and there was nothing that could ever truly heal that wound. She could mend it as much as she wanted, but there would always be a scar left in its place that would stick with her until the end.

Her mind had consumed her, but she could still feel JJ reach for her from the backseat. He rested his chin next to the headrest on the passenger's seat as his hand slipped over Izzy's arm. While Izzy was out of it, she could still feel his thumb graze over her skin almost as if he was trying to calm her nerves. He knew as well as she did that they both hated when people fought. It reminded them of their home lives, and in that way, they got each other. Similar to the way they always got each other, Izzy could always feel him somehow. Like he was a part of her, she could feel him like he was a limb or an organ. He was everpresent, like, a comforting breath of fresh air.

But sometimes it wasn't enough to keep Izzy out of her own mind. And right now, as they drove down the road in silence, his touch was not enough to stop her from thinking of everything bad that could happen. Because Izzy couldn't stop thinking about how if Anna Carrera was right about all this, and Izzy really was like the cat, then this was life number three. And if this was life number three, then she still had six more lives left to waste. . . . Right? Six more times to fuck up. Six more chances.

However . . . if she wasn't like the cat, then she didn't have six more lives to throw away. She was out of luck, faced with the hard truth and a chance she wouldn't make it out of this alive. She'd like to believe she had multiple chances to make everything right but as the car drove over a speedbump, and she was reminded of her mother's death once more, she realized she had nothing left to spare.

a/n: there are probably actually more ways to die than that but i don't care. i don't think the internet has an exact number, so bear with me . . . because . . . next chapter is another jj POV. it makes more sense to have what's going to happen in jj's POV, so be ready for that! anyways, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. there's only like two more chapters left for this season ugh!

also izzy be like, a few months ago: love doesn't exist. it never did.
izzy now: the love i was taught wasn't real. but the love i experience is. the end.

side note, the fact izzy has designer underwear makes me laugh. Rich people </3

anyway, thanks for reading!