X.   when she falls in love

The Pogues gathered back at the Chateau. Dylan passed by JJ, who was in the kitchen, and she pulled a face when he slathered a jar of peanut butter on two moldy pieces of bread. "Ew, J."

"That bread had mold on it three days ago." Pope informed.

"I'll just pick off the bad parts. Besides, mold is good for you. It's a natural. . . organism."

Dylan titled head. "I would love to live in your brain for a day, JJ."

"No, you wouldn't." Pope shook his head and grabbed her hand, leading her into the office.

"JJ." Said Kiara.

"Yup, yup, yup. Hot damn, let's do it!" JJ said happily and skipped into the room. He took a bite out of his sandwich. He paused and immediately spit it out.

Dylan grimaced and patted his back. "Wanna come over for dinner?"

He nodded. "Yes, please."

She smiled and turned her attention back to John B. He was seated at the table with the package in his hold. They watched him quietly as he tore into it. Dylan watched with wide eyes as he unfolded a paper that turned out to be a map. "Holy shit."

"X marks the spot." Pope stated and pointed to the black x that was marked on the map.

"Longitude, latitude." John B trailed and traced it with his finger.

Dylan began to chuckle. "Remember what we were taught in class? Flatitude and longitude?"

They slowly looked at her. Her chucking died down. "Remember? Flatitude. . ." She placed her one of her arms ontop of the other in a flat position. "Longitude. . ." She made a long gesture with her hands.

They didn't laugh.

"No? Okay." She muttered and scratched the back of her neck. "Ignore me."

Pope was the only one to chuckle.

"Anyways," John B mumbled and they turned their attention away from her. "There's something else in there." He pulled out a small tape recorder.

"What's that?" JJ asked.

"It's a tape recorder. Dumbass." Kiara scoffed.

John B turned it on and it made a little sound. "Dear bird." Big John's voice came through.

"No fucking way." Dylan exhaled.

"Whose bird?"

"That's what my dad called me."

"I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so,"

Dylan stifled a laugh. "That sounds like him."

"And you doubted your old man. I suspect at this moment, you're filled with guilt and self loathing over our last fight, but don't kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn't expect to find the merchant either."

All five of them shared a look of surprise.

"You were probably right to call me out. Wasn't exactly father of the decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn. And hopefully, we're listening to this in our brand new sugar shack down in Costa Rica, livin off passive intervestments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less than optimal reasons, well, that's what that map is for. There she is, the wreck of the merchant. If something happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you bird even if I didn't always act like it. And whatever you do, keep Dylan close by, alright? She's probably the only one who understands. I'll see you on the other side."

At the mention of her name, Dylan started to cry. Tears leaked from her eyes and down her face. Pope wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. She laid her head on his chest. He could feel his shirt starting to get wet but he didn't care.

The tape ended and everyone just froze in silence. The only sound was Dylan who tried to muffle her cries. John B stood up quickly from the chair and grabbed ahold of the wall. He began to cry as well.

"Holy shit, he did it!" JJ exclaimed. "Big John—He found the Merchant—"

"Can you. . . Can you please?" Kiara stopped him, starting to get upset herself.

"Sorry. . ."

Dylan slipped out of Pope's hold and walked around to John B. She touched his back slightly to let him know she was there and he immediately wrapped his arms around her torso. He cried into her shoulder. Dylan wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I love you." She said to soothe him.

Dylan was the best friend John B ever had and if his dad said to keep her close, he was damn sure going to do it.

The sky was deep midnight. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Kiara played her ukulele beautifully, the chords angelic. The Pogues gathered outside on the dock. Dylan's head rested against Pope's shoulder, her body twisted so her legs laid across the dock and his upper half was turned so she could rest comfortably against him. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder. 

If it was any normal day, JJ would be teasing them for looking like a couple but he knew Dylan needed comfort. "How much was it again?" He asked.

"Five hundred mil." Pope answered.

Dylan whistled lowly. "I would never have to pay student loans again."

"All right, let's talk the split," JJ continued. "Now,  before we say evenly may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us from those groupers who were after us."

Dylan narrowed her eyes. "Do you not remember when my dad used to take me to the hunting rang to shoot guns?"

He paused and blinked a couple times. "Okay, me and DJ are the only ones that can properly defend us. Protection? Not cheap, okay?"

Pope shook his head."You've haven't trained. You've done zero training."

"YouTube, bro! That's at least a five percent bump right there. Sorry, Dyl."

Dylan rolled her eyes.

"You haven't—"

"Why are you on me? Dylan's only been to a shooting range!" JJ exclaimed and pointed at her.

"I trust Dylan to use a gun more than you."

"Wonder why." He muttered. Dylan kicked him. "Ow!"

"Whoops."

"Any other objections?  I didn't hear any. . . so,"

He completely ignored the two girls who raising their hands. "What are you gonna do with your hundred mill, Pope?" Kiara asked.

Pope thought about it. Dylan twisted her head slightly so that she could look at him. "Pay for college in advance. And also textbooks. Those are expensive."

She cracked a grin at him humbleness.

"What about you Kie?" Asked JJ.

"Yeah, what does a socialist do when she's rich?" Pope teased.

"Donate it to charity to save the ocean." Dylan chimed with a light smile.

Kie winked at her with a click of her tongue. "I just wanna make a double album. About OBX. The Pogues. You know, the way Catch A Fire is about Kingston. Record it at Marley Studios, Peter Tosh producing."

"Peter Tosh is dead—" Pope started.

"Peter Tosh is dead, I know. But the spirit of Peter Tosh will never die." She interrupted while raising her beer.

"Actually, I know what i'm gonna do," JJ announced. "I'm gonna get a big ass house in Figure Eight and go full Kook."

"You're gonna go full Kook?" Pope questioned with raised brows.

He nodded. "Yep. Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and then I'm get a koi pond. Put a bunch of those fish—"

"I'm never visiting." Kiara chuckled.

Dylan grinned. "I will. Just to make sure you don't kill them."

"What about you, gorgeous? What are you gonna do?" JJ asked her while leaning against one of his arms.

There was so much she wanted to do with her life. Become a homicide detective. Travel around the world. Save animals. Discover new things. Dylan wanted to be successful in the way her parents were successful. Spend the rest of her life doing something she loved and fall in love in the process.

Some people would say her dreams were unrealistic. Dylan would say she was goal driven. She could blabber on forever about all the things she wanted, but for now, she started small. "I want to go to the best college for criminology. I want to go to live in a big city like New York or Las Angeles, and I'll need every penny cause y'know, the rent there is high as fuck. And uh. . . I want to donate back, y'know? As much as I can to help." She answered.

Pope smiled to himself and tightened his arm that was around her shoulder. She felt her face turn red. The Pogues listened quietly, having already known of Dylan's big dreams. "Can we come visit?" Asked JJ

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? I'm stuffing all of you in my suitcases

They laughed. "What are you gonna do, JB?" Pope asked John B, who stayed quiet the whole time.

They turned to John B. He nodded slightly as he thought. He looked up at them. "To going full kook."

"To going full Kook." They recited in unison and held their beers up, clinking them together.