XXIX. That One Scene in Tangled
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
THIS IS ME TRYING — TAYLOR SWIFT
I've been having a hard time adjusting
I had the shiniest wheels, now they're rusting
SLEEP DIDN'T COME easily to Stella these days. Every night, horror movies of her friends dying played behind the canvases of her eyes and romantic comedies starring a certain blond always ended in tragedy. Since the evening John B and Sarah 'died', her dreams no longer served as a safe haven. Any light of hope was chased away by the haunting echo of grief.
A part of her thought that her nightmares would cease after finding out her friends were alive. She hadn't lost anyone in her life, but that cloud of sadness remained stagnant over her head because whether her friends were alive or not, she still went through the trauma of thinking they actually had died. The grief was real. She felt it. She lived it. And although it had lessened after finding out about their fortunate escape from the Grim Reaper's scythe, the damage had been done. It was a healing wound and the hurt still lingered in her veins.
She spent the night tossing and turning, staring at the wall, then the ceiling, then the ocean through the glass door of her balcony. She didn't want to sleep because of what might greet her on the other side, so she was forced to stay awake despite her burning eyes and sore limbs.
The worst part about her newfound insomnia was that being awake in the dead of the night forced her to confront her thoughts. All she could do was think, and think, and think.
She thought about John B and Sarah and what they were doing in Nassau. She thought about Kie and Pope and what was going on between them. She thought about her mom. And her father. And JJ Maybank.
Thinking about things, dealing with her shit, analyzing her feelings—it was the only thing for her to do while the world was asleep. And while she shuffled through various topics, the main subject she kept coming back to was Gavin Barnstead.
Until now, it hasn't hit her that she had watched Gavin die.
His life was taken from him. He was a person who had parents, and a wife, and maybe children who would never get the closure of knowing what happened to him because Shoupe didn't believe her and her friends.
And on top of her regularly felt grief, she felt an enormous amount of guilt. She knew what happened. She watched and she could've done something. She didn't know what exactly, but she was sure there was something she could've done where if she took action, Gavin would still be alive.
It weighed so heavily on her chest that it turned into bitterness. In a way, Gavin's existence was being erased. No one was looking for him—no one cared to. A life as complex as hers, amounted to nothing more than a shower of bullets in the pouring rain.
Somehow she managed to get an hour or two of sleep—fading in and out of consciousness so much that she would hardly consider it a nap. And when she woke up completely, she felt very, very shitty.
"Morning, Mom," she yawned as she walked into the kitchen.
Emma was standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand as she scrambled a pan of eggs. "Good morning, baby. How'd you sleep?"
Stella shrugged and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter. "Alright." She then turned to leave, tossing the apple in the air and catching it in her hand.
At the same time, Emma turned and raised a brow. "Uh, uh," she tutted, waving the spatula around. "Where do you think you're going? Sit down. You're going to eat an actual meal before going to school."
A sigh escaped Stella's lips. Knowing that her mom wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, she headed to the kitchen island where a plate of steaming eggs and two pieces of toast waited for her. "Whatever you say, boss."
Emma watched her daughter as she ate her food, studying the tired frown on her face. The last few weeks had been hard for the young girl, so she hesitated in her next words.
"The most interesting thing happened last night," she started. She placed her elbows on the island across from Stella and leaned forward. "I was in the middle of a surgery—some guy decided he was going to learn how to throw knives—and I got a very peculiar call. Wanna guess from who?"
Stella paused. "Uh... Who?"
"Shoupe."
"Hm." The golden girl continued with her breakfast, hiding her panic well. She kept her head down to avoid her mother's gaze. "That is peculiar."
Emma nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, it is." Her eyes ran over her daughter as she tried to find a crack in her cool facade. "So there I am, standing over my patient's perforated bowels, phone on speaker, and tell me why my entire OR had to listen to Shoupe explain that my teenage daughter and her friends called him to say Ward Cameron killed someone."
"Mom—"
"Care to explain what you were doing last night, Stella-Anne?"
When Stella lifted her gaze, she saw that her mom hands were now on her hips and her brows were curved into an expectant expression.
Under normal circumstances, Stella wouldn't have hesitated before telling a little white lie about her whereabouts. She would've said she spent the evening at the Chateau or the Wreck. But after two hours of sleep and a boulder of emotion sitting on her chest, she did the opposite and said nothing at all.
Emma saw that she wasn't going to answer. "I don't ask much from you," she stated, trying to reign in her curiosity and worry, "I try not to do that. But if anything has to do with Ward Cameron, I want you you stay far away from it." She didn't want Stella or her friends meddling in places they shouldn't, especially not now. "I don't know what you guys think you're doing, but it is dangerous. They're still investigating Peterkin's death—"
"But they're not doing a good enough job!" Stella snapped, the exhaustion getting the best of her. "Peterkin's real killer is currently snorting coke down the street and they're not doing anything about it!"
"Stella," her mother replied calmly. "Shoupe is handling it."
"Poorly. He's handling it very, very poorly."
The surgeon's hands dropped to her sides as she let out a sigh. When Shoupe and Batcher requested her help in their case against the Camerons, the first thing she did was ask if Stella could know. She wanted her daughter to find comfort in the fact that someone was working towards justice for John B. The two men decided against it, arguing that Stella would tell JJ, who would then tell Pope, who would then tell Kie, who would use that knowledge as a way to lash out at Ward. It would compromise their entire investigation and they didn't want the kids to stick their noses in places they shouldn't. Emma argued that they would do so regardless, but was ultimately overruled.
Stella's phone went off and she slid off the barstool. "Kie's here," she muttered. "I have to go."
When she was about to cross the doorway that separated the kitchen and the hallway, Emma called out to her.
"Just answer me this," she said, taking steps closer. Her voice was significantly softer. "Did you really see Ward kill someone last night?"
Stella stilled before giving the faintest of nods. "It was his pilot," she said, her voice shaky, "and nobody's looking for him, nobody cares, and all I can think about is his family and how they don't know and if they're going to be okay because I know how much it hurts when someone you love dies, even though John B and Sarah are—"
"Hey," Emma walked around the kitchen island and placed two hands on her daughter's shoulders. "I'll check the morgues, okay. I'll do what I can to help. But are you okay?"
Despite being sleep deprived and traumatized, Stella nodded. "I'm fine— I'll be fine." There was a knock at the door. "I've gotta go."
With great hesitance, the older woman nodded. A part of her wanted to call the school, tell them that Stella wasn't coming in today, and swaddle her up like a baby to protect her from all the dangers world. No seventeen year old should experience anything close to what she had in the past three weeks. But another part of her knew that Stella would put on a strong face and pretend she was okay even when she wasn't. So she dropped her hold on her and stepped back.
"Have a good day at school, my love," Emma called out as Stella walked away. "I love you! If you don't feel well, text me and I'll call the office, okay?"
"Okay!" Stella replied. "Love you!"
And as Emma watched her daughter disappear behind the front door, all she could do was hope that when she came crashing down, it was into her arms.
DESPITE ALMOST FALLING asleep in every class, Stella had a pretty decent day. The coffee in the school's cafeteria didn't taste like battery acid for once and she received a perfect score on her biology quiz. Her heart still felt heavy at the thought of the previous night, but overall, she was doing better than she thought she would—until school ended and she found herself standing knee deep in garbage, that is.
"This is the north drain," Pope said, pointing to the storm pipe in front of them. The four teens spent their entire lunch period in the library, searching for the archived sewage system blueprints. When school let out, they followed it to where they thought the lost gun would be. "It should've gotten washed into the gully. So, if it got flushed out from this drain, it would've been pushed out to, like—"
"Somewhere in this trash." JJ's voice was stiff as he eyes the garbage floating in the water around them.
"Correct."
An irritated sigh fell from Kie's lips and she shook her head in contempt. "Oh my God. People who use plastic should be shot."
"So you can excuse murder but draw the line at torture?" JJ questioned.
"When it comes to things like this, yes!"
Stella's eyebrows raised. "Love the enthusiasm there, Kie."
"Okay, personally," the blond continued, a certain degree of smugness in his tone, "I love plastic. Use it every day. Love the stuff."
The curly-haired Pogue rolled her eyes. "Hopefully, you recycle it and don't let it flush into the ocean."
Pope smiled. "I thought you'd say something like that, so..." He pulled something out of his back pocket and held it up for them to see. "Trash bags."
Pleasant shock crossed her features. "Did you just proactively protect the environment?"
"Maybe."
Stella couldn't help but gag at their sentiments, causing JJ to smile ever so slightly. "You want us to leave you two alone, or what's going on?" The blond questioned, pointing a finger between the pair.
Pope shot him a look. "Just pick up the trash."
"Me and Stella were never that gross, just pointing it out."
As they picked up the trash, listening to Kie's rants about environmental issues and sustainable alternatives, they quickly realized that the gun wasn't there.
Tying up the last bag, Pope looked to his friends. Dread painted itself over his features and he pointed out, "If it's not in the trash, then it's gotta be in the storm drain."
"Of course it is," Stella replied with pursed lips. Looking up to the sky, she wished for one day where things went smoothly for the group. "Because when does anything ever go our way?"
"So, are we gonna do, like, rock, paper, scissors?" Kie questioned, eyes darting between her friends. They all knew what had to be done to get the gun.
"Or alphabetically?" Pope suggested with a raised brow.
JJ shrugged, glancing at Stella. "Or the oldest goes?"
At his suggestion, Stella tilted her head. She liked having an early birthday, but not if it meant climbing through the pipes of Kildare. "How about the youngest?" she counted, knowing that her tone would spark some resistance in him.
The blond narrowed his eyes at her. "You're just saying that because you want me to get a worm."
Pope turned to him with a confused expression. "What?"
"In the sewer," he clarified, meeting his gaze, "there's this worm that you get when you're down there. It gets into your blood, and then it has to come out your pecker. So, uh... that would be a hard pass for me."
"That's gonna be a no for me," Pope decided firmly, hand subconsciously covering his body.
The two girls shared a look. "No, I get it," Kie chuckled. "I get it. You guys are scared."
JJ's head turned sharply. "I'm not scared."
A snarky grin came over Stella's face as she snickered. "Wouldn't be a first," she said, giving the blond a side eye. "JJ's scared of a lot of things—ghosts, cave-dwellers, commitment, to name a few."
At her subtle jab, he rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of any of those. It's the pecker thing."
"You should've just led with that," Kie interjected, knowing that left uninterrupted the pair would spiral into a pit of arguments. "You don't have to be scared. We'll do it."
Stella gave her a look. "We?"
"Yes, Stella. We."
"Fine," she sighed. After all, she'd never let her do anything dangerous on her own. "Let's go."
They waited as JJ pried the crate open and regarded the entrance with a grimace. They didn't know what they could encounter down there, but they did know one thing: John B owed them big time.
As Kie got ready to climb through, Pope touched her arm. "Okay, just, you know, be careful."
"I'll be so careful," she replied, a certain playfulness to her tone.
"I deserve that."
When it was Stella's turn to enter the pipe, JJ stepped up to her. He watched with a worried eye as she crouched down and his hand shot forward when it looked like she was going to hit her head on the opening. "Watch your—"
"Yep," she nodded. "I've got it."
He backed away with his hands raised. "Alright, just saying." She crawled through the tight space and his eyes shamelessly roamed over her backside. (Something she knew was happening and rolled her eyes at). "Be careful and, uh, holler if you need anything, okay? We'll, uh... we'll holler back."
"Very helpful," she replied sarcastically. Her voice echoed against the metal. "Thank you."
Shaking her head, her eyes settled on sight before her. The distance between the entrance and the catch basin wasn't too far and she could see the light from the manhole above streaming in. The water came up past her wrists and the pipes felt slimy under her palm. She tried not to think about it.
"People are so shitty," Kie fumed, moving an empty chips bag around. It flowed behind her and hit Stella's arm.
The golden girl nodded with a sigh. "We should've brought a trash bag with us or something."
Suddenly Kie stopped, leaving Stella to wonder if she was going to look at her the same way she looked at Pope when he mentioned the trash bags. "What?" she asked, noting the way Kie turned back to give her a quizzical stare. "Why'd you stop?"
"So...?" Kie implored.
"...So?"
"What's going on with you and JJ?"
Perhaps Stella should've seen it coming. "Literally nothing," she answered with a shrug.
"You know, JJ was really upset too." Memories of the night they broke up came to the forefront of Kie's mind. She and Pope were there when it happened, eavesdropping through the Chateau's window and wincing every time one of their raised voices cracked under their frustration. After Stella stormed off and cried herself to sleep in her arms, she could remember walking in on JJ sobbing in Pope's. They were both hurt, and in this rare case, their hearts broke even, leaving one piece behind with the other. "You're both being stupid, and you getting mad and taking shots at him over every little thing isn't going to help anyone."
"Hey, he's the one who broke up with me," Stella defended. "I'm not the bad guy for pulling the trigger on a gun he loaded."
Kie hummed, thoroughly impressed by her wording. "That was a good analogy. "
"Thanks," she grinned. "I've been listening to a lot of Taylor Swift lately."
Her attempt to change the subject failed because Kie continued, "Look," she said, "I'm just saying that maybe you guys should talk it out so you can go back to actually being friends."
Stella's smile faded. That's the catch, she thought to herself in bitter regret. She didn't think she could go back to being JJ's friend—if they were ever just friends to begin with. She loved him too much, cared for him too much, to never not think about what it was like when they were together. Everything and everyone would be a constant comparison to him.
"Us being friends would never work. There's too much history."
"So, what? The rest of us just have to deal with it?"
With a deep inhale, she shrugged. "I don't know, Kie. I don't know what to tell you."
The curly-haired Pogue sighed and turned around. "Ugh," she huffed, crawling through the pipe again, "things were so much easier with the no Pogue-on-Pogue rule."
"No one followed that rule," Stella pointed out, poking the back of her friend's leg. "Not even you."
"Don't start."
"Like what's up with you and Pope anyways?" She questioned, tilting her head. "Are you, like, together together?"
Kie hesitated, but continued on. "Uh... It's complicated, I guess. Like I want one thing and Pope wants something else, and... it's just... kind of a mess right now."
"But do you want to be with Pope?"
If anyone else asked her that question, she would assume they were insinuating that she was leading Pope on. That wasn't the case with Stella. Kie knew that her friend was well aware of the fact that she didn't know what she wanted.
There was a pause of silence. "I... I don't know."
The pair reached the end of the tunnel and climbed through to the catch basin. Standing on their feet, they started searching the area for the gun.
"Just be careful with him," Stella advised. "You know how he gets. You either want him or you don't."
A scoff escaped Kie's lips. "That's rich coming from you."
"Hey, I want JJ," Stella defended, flicking a piece of trash away. "He just doesn't want me—or he does, but not enough to date me. You, on the other hand, can be with Pope right now if you wanted. He's waiting, you just need to decide. If you want to be with him, great. If you don't, tell him."
"Maybe we should just date each other," Kie settled. Her shoulders slumped in dismay. "You, me, and Sarah. We'll run away and travel to Spain or something.
Stella laughed. "Tempting," she mused, hands still searching the water. She grimaced as her foot pressed on something squishy. "Come on, the faster we get this done, the less likely we are to get Cholera... or E. coli or something."
She nodded and the pair spent the next few minutes sifting through the contents of the catch basin.
Kie's words echoed back in Stella's mind and she reflected on the possibility of rekindling her friendship with JJ. She would love to be friends again. If she couldn't have him as a lover, she'd have him in any other way she could. But she knew that if two past lovers could remain friends, either they were never in love or they still are. And Stella knew which category she fell under. Being friends with JJ just wouldn't work.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Kie reached for something under her foot. "Hey, I found something," she said, nodding at Stella before turning towards the exit to tell the boys. "Guys, I think I found something!"
Their voices echoed back.
"Wait, you got it?" JJ asked.
Pope's voice followed. "Is it the gun?"
Stella watched as Kie struggled to pick up her finding and the worst case scenario came to her mind. "Please don't be human remains," she pleaded, causing her best friend to give her a sharp glare. "In every true crime podcast it's always human remains and I swear to God, Kie, if it's someone's hand or something, I'm gonna—"
She was cut off by a shrill scream.
"Pope! Pope! Oh my God!" In Kie's hands were what looked to be a rotted piece of bone. She pushed it away, unintentionally towards Stella, and called out to the boys.
Stella felt bile race up her esophagus and she gagged. "JJ!" She shouted, the blond always being the first person to come to her mind. "There's something dead in here!"
"Don't touch it!" he replied, hands gripping the outside grate. "That's how you get worms!"
Popes voice echoed down the drain. "Did you find the gun?"
A realization struck Stella and she turned to Kie with a panicked expression. "Oh my god, what if it's Gavin? What if Ward dumped Gavin in the sewer? Would he decompose that fast? Pope! Would he decompose that fast?!"
"Kie, Stel," JJ called out. "Do you see the gun?"
"No, JJ! But we do see a severed arm!" She caught sight of the rotted tissue and gagged again. "Holy shit, I'm gonna throw up."
Unbeknownst to any of the Pogues, there was a certain Kook who had discovered their whereabouts.
Above ground, Rafe listened to the indistinguishable voices shouting in the sewers and smirked as his eyes landed on the nearby faucet that would raise the water levels. Without thinking of the consequences, or perhaps not caring about them, he walked over and turned the handle.
"Wait," JJ said to Pope, hitting his arm as he stared at the entrance of the storm drain. "My Stella senses are tingling."
Pope rolled his eyes. "What did I tell you about saying that? It's weird—"
"Sh! ...Do you hear that?"
The two boys leaned closer to the entrance and the sound of rushing water filled their ears.
"Stella, Kiara, get out of there now!"
Inside of the storm drain, the girls were just realizing what was happening. The current around them quickened and the echoing noise of sewage swishing against metal became louder.
"What's going on?" Stella asked, looking around as the water started to pass her midsection. "Why's the water rising?"
Kie looked at her with wide eyes. "Stel, we gotta get out of here, like, right now."
"But we haven't found the gun yet!"
She shook her head. "We don't have time!" Her hand found the nearby ladder and she beckoned her friend over. "We have to climb!"
Stella stared at the murky water, assessing her chances of survival if she stayed to find the gun. But with the water was rising at an alarming rate, she knew she had to go.
"Oh, my god," she said as she followed Kie to the ladder. "This is like in Tangled, when they were running from the bad guys and got trapped in—" Her foot hit something hard. She kicked it again and there was the distinct feeling of metal on metal that couldn't be masked by water. Her mouth dropped in realization and she stopped moving. "Wait, I think I found—"
"Stella!" Kie snapped, already climbing towards the manhole. "We need to go!"
At this point, the water was at the base of Stella's neck. Every quick inhale she took was touched by a rippling at her trachea. She looked at the rushing water, hoping that she wouldn't get sick after what she was about to do. "Shit. You guys owe me for life!" She took a deep breath and dove down.
"Stella!" Kie shouted, her voice shaking in panic as Stella disappeared underwater. The current was getting too strong. "Stella! Pope, JJ! Help! We're over here!" She banged her fists against the heavy metal, pleading for the boys to save them.
Underwater, Stella refused to open her eyes. Sure, it would've made looking for the gun easier, but after finding a severed body part in the water, she really didn't want to take her chances on what else was hiding below.
She didn't know how long she was searching, but by the time her hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun, the water was just reaching the top rung of the ladder. She shoved the weapon in the waistband of her shorts and pushed against the bottom of the catch basin.
Her head broke the surface of the water and Kie's arm wrapped around her waist to steady her. She didn't have time to recover before the water filled the storm drain completely, trapping them underground with no access to air.
Now, Stella would be lying if she said she had never thought about her death before. She always assumed she would die of old age, surrounded by her loved ones after a life full of happiness. Never, in her seventeen years of living, had she guessed drowning in a sewer would be her untimely demise.
For a moment, she thought to herself, what if this is it?
She knew she only had a few minutes before her body would give in and inhale the water surrounding her. She knew that she had less of a chance at survival than Kie because she was standing lower on the ladder and barely had any air in her lungs. She also knew that she didn't want to die, no matter how tired of living she was.
Just as her head began to pound and the light behind her eyelids started to dim, the manhole cover lifted and she was pulled out onto the road next to Kie.
"Stella!" She heard someone yell. "You're good, you're good. I've got you."
She doubled over, coughing the water from her lungs and frantically gasping for air in between. Every time she caught a whiff of her own putrid stench, she gagged. She was so preoccupied that she didn't even care that JJ was the one holding her up and rubbing her back.
Beside the pair, Pope copied JJ's actions and tried to wrap his arms around Kie. He tried to support her, to let her know he was there for her, but she pushed him off with a look of annoyance.
JJ let go of Stella before she could do the same to him, and when she got her breathing under control, she turned to the curly-haired girl next to her. "Kie, you good?"
She coughed, water falling from her mouth, then gave her a thumbs up. "Never better. You?"
"Ask me tomorrow."
Kie nodded, eyes roaming the girl's figure for injuries. Her gaze then fell to Stella's backside. "Shit," she exclaimed, reaching over to pull the dark metal from Stella's waistband. With a proud smile, she nudged the girl's arm and turned to the boys, waving the gun in the air. "This wasn't what we were looking for, right?"
The serious bubble they found themselves in popped and they let out airy laughs of disbelief.
"Holy shit."
"We're gonna get this son of a bitch, man!"
Smiles spread across their faces as the two girls stood up.
"You did it," Pope praised happily, eyes locking with Kie. "You guys did it!"
"Stella did it," Kie corrected, looking over at the girl who was still recovering from their near death experience.
JJ nudged Stella's arm as she coughed again. "C'mon," he urged with a grin. "Let's get this to Shoupe."
"SO Y'ALL ARE telling me that this is the firearm Rafe Cameron killed Peterkin with?" Shoupe looked at them with skeptical eyes, regarding them with an air of contempt.
The teens strung around his office nodded. "That's exactly what we're telling you," JJ confirmed, taking his hat off and wringing it in his hands.
"And the exact same firearm that Ward just used to kill Gavin," Pope added in support.
Shoupe raised a brow. "And where's that corpse again?"
"Didn't you look?" Stella questioned, furrowing her brows. "That's kind of your job, isn't it?"
"I checked the hospital and I went by his house. He was out."
"He was out?"
JJ scoffed. "No shit! 'Cause he's dead! Listen to yourself. It makes perfect sense."
If they weren't watching his features, they would've assumed Shoupe rolled his eyes. "Just because he's not in his damn home does not mean he was a victim of a homicide."
"It doesn't mean he's not not a victim of a homicide either!" Stella stood from the seat she was on, gaze set in determination. "Yesterday we told you Gavin was shot and now he just so happens to be out? Come on, Shoupe, you're not this stupid!"
"Watch your mouth," the older man warned, pointing a finger at her. "Do you want me to call your mom?"
Kie stood as well, taking the attention off the golden girl, and tilted her head in accusation. "Are you at least gonna send it in for ballistics and shit, or are you just gonna sit on your ass?"
"He'll sit there and wax that mustache," JJ huffed, crossing his arms. "Is that even real? I'll wax this—"
Before the blond could say anything that would cause them more trouble than it was worth, Pope pushed him back. "Shut up, JJ!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt his feelings?"
It seemed that the patience Shoupe had reserved for the teens ran out because he stood from his desk and crossed the room to open the door. "Get out. I got work to do."
Stella narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you serious?"
He nodded and opened the door wider. "Y'all are smelling up my office."
JJ was the first one to leave, placing his hat back on his head with the roll of his eyes. He was then followed by Kie, who stopped before Shoupe to question if he was bribed because it didn't make any sense. And Stella thought she was right to question Shoupe's actions because there was no logical explanation why he was dismissing their claims.
Stella followed her friends, wringing out her still wet hair as she left so his office would smell like sewer water. Behind her, she could hear Pope pleading for the older man to hear them out, only to be met with another dismissive wave.
The four teens found their way to the marina, complaining about the way their situation was handled. The one piece of material evidence they had to exonerate their friend gone, all because they chose to do the right thing and turn it in to the sheriff.
When their irritation ran out, they came up to the side of Heyward's building so the girl's could shower before going home.
While Pope went inside to grab the extra clothes the girls stashed in his house for emergencies, Stella walked around to the other side of the shop where the second outdoor shower was.
JJ waited for Pope to return, and when he did, he grabbed his sweater from Kie's car and followed after Stella. He wanted to give his two friends space to be a couple (if that's what they were, JJ had no clue what was going on with them) and check up on Stella.
He hung her clothes over the wall of the shower stall and sat on the picnic table pressed up against the wall. The night was silent, save for the running water, waves, and crickets, but his thoughts were loud as ever.
He almost lost Stella for good this time. It was one thing to lose her as a girlfriend, another thing to barely have a friendship with her, but to have her existence in his life threatened like it was today made him question everything he had ever done. Pushing her away in fear of experiencing future heartbreak proved to be an action he heavily regretted.
The water shut off and the clothes slipped from the top of the stall.
Stella got dressed, blissfully unaware of how deep in thought JJ was, and sighed at the sweater in her hands. It hadn't been in the bag of clothes she and Kie left in Pope's house, so she knew it was JJ who gave it to her. It was her favourite sweater of his, after all.
Deciding that any reservations she had about wearing her ex-boyfriends clothes was no comparison to the cool September air, she pulled the grey marina hoodie over her head and stepped out of the stall.
JJ stood up, fixing his hat as he tried to play off how Stella's presence affected him. "How're you doing, Sun— Stel?" He cleared his throat, hoping she wouldn't notice the way he slipped up and nearly called her 'Sunbaby'. "You good?"
She shrugged. "I might have sewage in my lungs and a new fear of tight spaces, but other than that, I'll be fine."
He noticed the difference between I will be fine and I am fine and frowned. He knew what fine meant to her.
His blue eyes searched her face for any sign of distress, but all he saw was how tired she was. "I... We almost lost you there," he settling on saying, leaning against the table. "It was like that scene in Tangled when they were running from those bad guys and got trapped in that cave with the water."
An airy chuckle fell from her lips. "Yeah..." She nodded, her voice fading. Her mouth opened to release a yawn and she sat on the table next to him, careful not to touch him. "It was a close one."
JJ's hand came up to rub at his chest and he forced himself to stare at the sea instead of her. He didn't want to ruin what felt like the first civil conversation they've had in weeks, even if he began to grow restless.
Stella twisted the ring on her finger and bit the inside of her cheek. She knew the boy next to her better than anyone else on the planet and knew that he was fighting every urge to not smoother her with concerned affection.
Sighing, she turned to look at him. "JJ, I'm okay," she assured softly. For a moment, she let herself forget about the hurt and anger she felt towards him. "Really. I'm still breathing. I'm in one piece. I'll be fine."
He looked down at her and gave a hesitant nod. "Alright, just making sure." A few moments passed as he contemplated his next words. "You know, 'cause that's what friends do."
But they were far from it. Because no matter what happened between them, both Stella and JJ knew that they never were, nor ever will be, just friends.
RAE SPEAKS !
stella @ kie after she says they're both going in the storm drain:
jella misses each other but stella's too stubborn to actually talk about what happened and jj's realllllly starting to regret breaking up with her. also stella has that mentality that she's fine so long as she's breathing, but she's so sad and tired :(((
anyways, dr. emma marx is the best mom, stan her for clear skin <3
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top