Kathryn isn't having the fun she was promised. Of course, it was to be expected, seeing as she was basically forced to go, but still. One could hope, right?

"Kat look!" Sarah screams from the top of the buoy, stuck in the sand. "I'm like Leo in Titanic. You love that movie."

She does. She loves to watch it and scream at the screen. It's practically a sport at this point. "Yeah well, remember how the movie ends," she screams back. "Don't break your neck."

Sarah rolls her eyes, and jumps in Topper's arms to get down. Topper is her latest boyfriend. He's cute. He has a nice face. That's the only nice thing about him – he doesn't have much of a personality, from what she's seen. He likes Sarah, and he's decent. That's about it. Sarah never seems to settle down anyway. She's kind of a runner, everytime someone gets close.

As opposed to her, who makes sure no one even gets the chance to approach her. She doesn't like proximity of any kind. Not anymore, at least. She's heard some Kooks call her 'Ice Queen'. It's better than the one the Pogues came up with. Weirdly enough, she'd rather be called a queen than a bitch.

Kathryn tears her gaze from the happy couple, and looks back at the other side of the beach. Even now, at a kegger party, the two parts of the island are divided. She can see the hint of John Booker Routledge's pink cap, from where she is, and sits further back on the log, next to Topper's friends. She doesn't plan on being seen.

In theory, it should be easy. They're on opposite sides of the beach, and the Pogues don't even know she's back on the island in the first place, so they wouldn't even think of looking for her.

Of course, trust boys to start a fight and set her whole little plan on fire.

But for now, they haven't seen her. They're all clearly enjoying themselves. John B is busy flirting with some blonde girl, Pope Heyward is talking to someone further down, and Kiara Carrera looks like she's in a heated conversation around the bonfire. God knows what the other one is doing. Out of all of them, she wished she had eyes on him. She could prepare herself in the case where any of the others see her and strike up a conversation with her.

John B would be worried, like whenever she shut herself down in school, after her father's disappearance. He'd have those big, sad brown eyes, half-hidden by his tussle of light brown hair, she can almost picture it. He'd ask what's wrong with her, if he can do anything to help. He's the oldest of the Pogues – she used to be the youngest. He'd have that brotherly concern he always had.

Pope would probably be curious, wanting to know more about the 'why' of it all. Kathryn can't have that. She can't tell anyone why her mother took her off the island. She'd rather bury herself in the sand. And she knows that if Pope gave her those big puppy sad eyes he used to have when asking her for help on homework, it'd be hard to say no.

She could see Kie being the most accusatory out of them all. A flip of her brown curly hair and most likely, she'd be flipping her off. She always had that protective trait to her, and she doesn't see a world where her departure didn't cause some damage. Kie would be angry.

And then there's JJ Maybank. She doesn't have the heart to remember what he looked like. She was the closest to him – John B was a close second, but it wasn't exactly the same as her and JJ. They were practically joined at the hip, but somehow always bickering over the simplest things. Once, she tried to headbutt him and landed on the slide next to them. She still has the scar on her forehead. He called her 'Harry Potter' for weeks. She almost killed him for it.

He was the hardest to leave behind.

It's getting dark, the party is wearing off. Everyone slowly starts to leave. The tourists are the first to leave, and Sarah and her friends are the last Kooks. Kathryn can't believe she lasted this long. She's not sure she even opened her mouth once, outside of talking to Sarah.

Which is hard, considering that everyone seems to want to get her story out of her. She'd usually make something up, but she's tired. A bit tipsy to cope with the attention. Which is hard with Sarah, because Sarah loves the attention. Kathryn tolerates it, but it brings out the best in her friend. She glows, even her has to admit. Kathryn dims. She only tolerates it right now because it's either that, or the Pogues see her and she just might combust.

If it wasn't for the fact that she wanted to make it up to Sarah, she wouldn't even be here in the first place.

"You're not having fun, are you?"

She whips her head around to look at Sarah. "No. But I hope my uncle's happy that he has the house for himself tonight to invite his boyfriend over." It's a shame, really, that Kathryn isn't home. She wants to see Max too. She misses him. She hasn't seen him since, like. This morning.

Sarah sighs, guilt written all over her face. "I'm sorry. Me and mister H thought it'd do you some good." She hands her a cup. "Drink your sorrow away maybe?"

Kathryn lets her get a snort out of her. "Now you're speaking my language, Sarah Cameron." She takes a sip, and looks around, setting the cup down. There's not a lot of people left, and the dimming fire makes her uneasy. "I think I'm gonna head home."

Sarah nods, tries to give her a squeeze on the shoulder, but stops herself before Kathryn can recoil. "Call me when you're home safe. Or do you want me to walk you back?"

Kathryn shakes her head, grateful for Sarah. The Palace – her uncle's place, she quickly corrects herself. The Palace is what the Pogues used to call it. Maybe the alcohol is turning her brain into nostalgia mush. She almost misses the fire. Anyway, it's not that far. She could almost see it from here.

"It's fine," she tells her. "Go share saliva with what's-his-face." Sarah rolls her eyes, but happily obliges.

Kathryn barely has time to get up when Sarah turns her back, that Topper's friend – Kelce, she thinks. She's not sure. She didn't care enough when he introduced himself with a dumb smile. She tends to tune men out. It's always the same thing with them anyway.

He slings an arm around her. She shoves him away. Not harshly, but enough to make a statement. Next time, she's sending him to the floor.

"Relax," he says with a smile, not at all impressed by her. He seems to even like it. She doesn't understand men.

"What do you want?" she frowns, arms tightly crossed against her chest.

She doesn't like being touched. Especially not by drunk boys.

He smiles, teeth white against his dark skin, gleaming in the moonlight. "Hello, you."

Her nose wrinkles up in disgust. Gross. No thanks. "Shove off, Joe Goldberg."

She tries to walk away, but he follows her, grabbing her wrist tightly. She fights against his grip. Bile rises at the back of her throat, body tensing, ready to run, or scream. Or hit him in the nuts – she doesn't know, okay?

Kelce's eyes seem amused at her accent, as if he didn't notice it before. "Oi, where are you going?" It's the worst British accent she's ever heard.

Somehow, she feels anger bubbling under her skin. For a split second, her rising panic gives way to blind rage. "Let me go," she seethes. "Or I swear to God I'll break your wrist."

They're drawing attention to them. People start to assess the situation, and decided to whistle and cheer instead of helping her. Of course they would.

Kathryn can feel her stomach tightening. This is bad. Sarah and Topper are coming her way, but they're too far. Kelce is squeezing her wrist, he has no intention in letting go. No one is moving to help her.

Worse, she fears the only ones who would.

"Don't try and play hard to get, I know how you are, Darcy."

She stares him down. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs. "Rafe told me everything I needed to know."

The world starts spinning. She never should have left. She never should have even moved back to this fucking island. There are eyes on her, following her. They all think they know everything.

They have no idea what happened, but they're all so ready to condemn her. They don't even know her. The only thing they know is that she's Kathryn Elizabeth Darcy. She's back from the dead. Kook Queen. Slut. The word followed her around like a shadow, all the way to London. A cloak of shame, for something she never agreed to. Something she never even wanted.

Kelce tugs her closer. She fists his shirt in her hand. "Get off."

"Come on. No need to pretend."

Her muscles tense up, and she wonders if she's about to puke on his face. She'd like that. But she can't move anymore. The panic makes her body seize, and she feels like she's going to die. Her next breath is her last, somehow, she's convinced of it. She's going to die. She begs for Sarah and Topper to magically appear next to her. She can see Sarah fight her way through the crowd, shoving anyone that's in her way. The crowd – the people around them seem ready to watch as she gets assaulted, because it fulfils the idea they have of her.

She hears a voice call out an old name, and then, Kelce is shoved out of the way. She can see someone tower over him, blocking his way to her, she catches the glimpse of a pink cap, and Kathryn's panicked glance meets bright blue eyes.

"KD, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage?" he asks the first pretext that comes to his mind.

She doesn't answer. It takes her a moment to register that she's not in danger anymore, her muscles slowly relaxing. Processing the information. Somehow, she's twelve again. It's her last day of school before leaving, and she doesn't have the heart to tell the boy in front of her. He's trying his damndest to make her smile, and she thinks it's unfair.

JJ Maybank stares back at her. He changed. He's more muscular. Less round of face. He has that same cheeky smirk. And the same blue eyes, pouty lips and sandy hair. He's exactly the boy he used to be, and she turned into this angry thing that melts her insides. She's right. It's unfair. Fuck me.

Authors Note: I love Kathryn. Kathryn is baby.

Editor's Note: babe Kathryn was having a literal mental breakdown...