thank you for reading, and voting and commenting on RICOCHET !

your support means so much to me. obx came out so long ago and so many of you continue to read and reread this series regularly. truly, it brings me so much happiness whenever life gets too much or too hectic and i hope these books do the same for you guys.

the answer you're all looking for is yes; i will be writing another book for obx4, i could never leave you guys hanging like that. and i've grown too attached to b & jj to not write another season for them. keep this book in your archives/reading list because i'll update here when i've uploaded the 4th book.

again, thank you guys all so much for supporting me. i love y'all fr and enjoy this last snippet i cut out of the last chapter... see ya in obx4 <3

There was more to the story, Pope liked to refer to as THE AFTERMATH but he refrained from telling Bianca the truth. It would only make her feel more guilty, which was not the point of this narrative.

Still, Pope recalled trying to say hi to Bianca after that day at the Spelling Bee competition.

It was at a local fair when he saw the girl again, that same year. He spent the whole afternoon trying to build up the courage to go up to her, ask her if she remembered him.

There she was, buying fairyfloss with the same stark raven-hair and equally as jet-black eyes. But she held the fairyfloss with such care, so much gentleness, it made Pope smile.

Finally, he tapped her shoulder from behind but just as she turned around, a group of kids their age came bounding up to her. By their shiny shoes and starched dress shirts, Pope could tell they were Kooks.

One of them was a blond boy who reached for her fairy floss and stole a bite out of it. Pope could tell she didn't like this because she elbowed him away almost immediately.

"Topper!" Bianca scolded, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's mine, you dickwad!"

"Ooh!" The boys around Topper snickered, shouldering Pope to the back of the group.

"Whatever," Topper grabbed more of the sugary substance and shoved it in his mouth before she could protest. "Your mom told my mom that we have to share."

"Shut up," Bianca rolled her eyes. "She did not."

"Did too," Topper shrugged. "Who was that anyway?"

Bianca glanced over his shoulder at the mysterious boy who tried to get her attention. He looked familiar, sure, but she barely had a chance to see his face before he disappeared again.

With a frown, she mumbled, "I don't know."

Pope never tried to say hi after that. He saw her around the Island, especially when he used to make grocery trips to Figure Eight with his dad. But every time, he would duck his head down and keep walking.

The next time Pope even came close to building up that same courage was when he saw Bianca through the window of the Wreck.

This time, however, she wasn't alone.

Kiara Carrera, Sarah Cameron and Bianca Prescott sat at a wooden table in the middle of the empty restaurant, laughing like they were hiding some kind of secret. The sun was setting, casting them in an amber glow and Pope, in the shadows.

"What are you girls giggling about over there?" Anna, Kiara's mother, counted the cash behind the till. By the small smile on her lips, the girls could tell her sternness was playful, "And why are you all covered in dirt?"

"We just came back from playing at Mrs Crains-" Sarah began. "Ow!"

Kiara elbowed her to shut up, and shook her head with a glare. Bianca hid her laugh beneath her hand.

"Mrs Crains?!" Anna perked up, a hand now propped on her hip. "Kie, I thought I told you to stay away from that old lady's house. You're going to give her a heart attack one day!"

"Mom!" Kiara whined.

"Don't 'Mom' me," Anna tutted. "I forbid you from going back there Kiara Carrera-"

"It was Sarah's idea!"

"Hey!" Sarah kicked Kiara from under the table.

"Ow!" Kiara threw a fry at Sarah causing her to retaliate.

One landed on Bianca's head, "Guys- I washed my hair yesterday!" She threw another at both of them.

Soon all three were having a food fight, uncaring of the mess they were making. Their laugher was louder than any consequence life threw at them.

"Kiara!" Mike emerged from the kitchen, having heard the ruckus. "I just swept the floors!"

"I can do it," Bianca offered, standing up to reach for the broomstick tucked away in the corner.

But before she could, Anna took the broom from her, "Oh no, you don't," She chastised, pushing the younger girl by the shoulders to retake her seat at the table. "You are going to sit here, finish your food and you're not allowed to get up till that dish is empty, got it?"

"Yes, Miss Anna," Bianca rolled her eyes playfully while Kiara stuck her tongue out at her.

"Don't tell Kiara but this is why you're my favourite," She joked, running a hand through the girl's hair endearingly. Out of all Kiara's friends, Bianca was by far the most respectful, and always offered to help clean up when they hung around at The Wreck.

"I heard that," Kiara begrudgingly ate another fry, slinking further into her seat.

"Good," Anna hummed as she began sweeping up the mess the girls made. "Then you'll hear me perfectly when I say it's your turn to wipe down the tables."

"But-" Kiara's mouth fell agape while Sarah and Bianca laughed at her expense.

"No buts," Anna shook her head, ignoring the girl. "If you can terrorize a poor old lady by knocking and running on her door, then you can help close up."

Kiara groaned but begrudgingly got to her feet and took the wet rag from her mother. Bianca watched the pair in amusement, warmth filling her insides. It was the same feeling she got when she spent time with the Carrera's or the Cameron's; the feeling of being welcome somewhere.

Kiara and Sarah may have teased her for always being the first one to offer help to Anna, a 'goody-two shoes' as they called her but Bianca liked feeling that she was doing something right.

At home, nothing she ever did was good enough. A+ reports didn't go up on the refrigerator, they were left ignored on the kitchen counter until she opened the trash can the next day. There was no designated spot for her ballet, spelling bee, gymnastics and academic awards because her mother said it didn't go well with the theme of the house. Bianca didn't get greeted good morning or good night, the earth merely spun without acknowledgement that she existed.

"She's hanging out with the Kooks again," JJ scoffed harshly, peering through the window of the restaurant beside Pope.

"I thought you said she was staying back in the library to study," John B accused.

Pope shrugged dejectedly, "That's what she told me."

He watched Bianca with the other girls and wondered whether she would recognise him. He was much taller now, but still lanky.

Immediately, Pope scolded himself for thinking that. If she didn't remember him back then, why would she remember him now?

"You think we should say something?" JJ interrupted his thoughts.

"No way," John B shook his head. "Her dad already hates us enough."

"We could always just ask Kiara to invite her Kook friends?" Pope offered quietly. "Problem solved."

"Pope for someone with a brain as big as yours, you sure do say some stupid things, you know that?" JJ turned to look at him, his cap backward on his head. "Never in a million years would those chicks ever want to hang out with losers like us."

Pope frowned, "Well, why not?"

"Well for one, they're super hot," JJ began listing. "Two, they're rich and three, they're chicks. Did I mention they're hot?"

"Maybe one or twice," John B snorted.

"Kie hangs with us," Pope pointed out.

"Kie slums it with us," JJ corrected causing the Heyward boy's frown to deepen. "And do you see her here right now? Maybe she's finally realized she can do better than Pogues like us, right?"

"Whatever, look- guys, I don't have time for this," John B began backing away. "Let's go, I gotta try my uncle again. If he doesn't show his face, Peterkin's gonna be on my ass with DCS."

"Yeah, dude," JJ followed after him, hands shoved in his pockets. "DCS is the real deal. My cousin, you know Ricky, right? Yeah, well, Ricky got picked up by DCS this one time- didn't see him again for seven months."

"I thought you said it's 'cause he went to that wilderness camp?"

"Did I? Whatever, I dunno. Point is, you're screwed."

"I know, that's why my dad needs to hurry the hell up and get back to the OBX before they realize I'm an unemancipated minor living alone," Their voices trailed further away.

JJ's eyebrows furrowed, "What does that mean?"

"Dunno. Some word Peterkin said."

"It means you're still legally under the supervision of your parents," Pope deadpanned, still looking into the window.

"See? This is why we love you, Pope," John B grinned.

"Our little braniac," JJ smirked, pausing to wait for the boy.

"You coming?" John B called over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Pope tore himself away from the window and followed after his friends. "Right behind you."

And Pope never brought it up again.