CHAPTER THIRTY

SOMETIMES — CHELSEA CUTLER
'Cause I love you, but sometimes, I'd rather die
Than have to feel this way inside

ONE OF STELLA'S favourite pastimes was using her mother's special access code to read journal articles online. Her obsessive need to know everything about anything flourished in the endless papers about the human mind and cellular biology. It was hard for anything to compare to her love of knowledge, but listening to her mother ramble about her passion for medicine surely came close.

In the days following her near death experience, Stella decided to take it easy and refrain from getting into trouble with her friends. This being said, she spent a lot of time at home listening to the presentation her mom created for a convention she was set to attend in Seattle. Regenerative medicine for extremity injuries took up the majority of her brain, but somehow she still managed to study for her history test with Pope.

She sat in class, relaxed in her chair as she scribbled down the answers with ease. She was one of those lucky ones who school naturally came easily to. Unfortunately, the blond boy who sat behind her wasn't.

Diocletian was an ex-slave who became the ruler of the Roman Empire.

"Psst! Stel!"

Under his leadership, he provided stability, security, and a functioning government to—

"Stella! What's the answer to one?"

—An otherwise chaotic state.

"Stella—"

"Oh my God, JJ," the girl snapped, gripping her pen and turning around with narrowed eyes. The blond had been trying to get her attention since the beginning of the test and her patience had finally run out. "Will you shut up?"

JJ grinned. "Only if you make me."

Things between them have been somewhat better since their conversation at the marina. The crack in her resolve filled him with hope and he made the logical decision to try and make amends. Every morning before Kie picked them up for school, he would gift her with a bouquet of flowers he had picked from her neighbours' gardens. Her obvious contempt towards his advances were met with a cheeky smile and he refused to give up, quickly coming to the conclusion that relentlessly bothering her was actually quite enjoyable.

He must have been wearing her down because their usual banter had returned and her indignant comments towards him lessened. They weren't okay by any means, but he'd take whatever progress he could. Stella could never stay mad at him for long, even when they were kids, and once he figured out what to say and how to apologize, he knew they'd be on the right tract towards mending their friendship.

Their teacher walked down the aisle next to their desks and they ducked their heads down. Stella returned to the essay she was writing while JJ ripped the eraser off his pencil and drew his hand back to throw it at her.

She flinched when it hit the back of her head and glared at him over her shoulder.

"Help me," JJ whined, whispering a little too loudly.

With her eyes on her paper, she replied with a simple, "No."

Their teacher walked by again and JJ pretended to write something down. "Why not?"

"Because you had every chance to study with me and Pope, but you decided fishing was a better use of your time."

JJ let out a small groan and sunk into his seat. "Well, how was I supposed to know that my actions had consequences?"

"My constant annoyance didn't tip you off?"

The door to their classroom opened, taking the blond's attention off of Stella. Her shoulders sagged in relief and she finished the paragraph she had been writing.

"Mr. Sunn, can I borrow Pope for a minute?"

She ignored her teacher's response in favour of her work.

"I'm from the Vanderhorst Foundation."

Ah, shit. Letting out a sigh, Stella looked away from her paper again. Standing in the doorway was a man in a fine-pressed suit, holding an envelope in his hand. She watched as Pope stood from his desk and followed him out, then shared a curious look with Kie, who was seated at the desk next to her.

Figuring that Pope would tell them about it later, they resumed their previous activities of writing their tests and begging for help.

"Stella-Anne—"

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

The door opened again and Pope returned to his desk.

"Okay, what was that?" Kie whispered. Her eyes (as well as Stella's) widened when Pope showed them the envelope. "Is that the wheat symbol?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

JJ looked over and when he saw the wax seal adorning the folded paper, he dropped his pencil, sending it to the ground in a disruptive clatter. "What the f—" He stopped when their teacher shot him a warning look. Half the class was looking at him now. "Fu... fu... fudge?"

Twenty minutes later, the school bell rang and the class handed in their tests. The four Pogues were the first ones to leave the room and immediately beelined to the library. They had questions upon questions that they needed to ask, and the possibility of this being a new lead excited them.

"Is this a game of tag?" JJ questioned, following quickly after his friends. "Am I gonna have to beat you with your protractor?"

Stella nodded. "Yeah, what's going on? And what does a merit scholarship have to do with the Royal Merchant?"

As they passed the front desk of the library, a teacher shushed them with a pointed stare.

Stella gave her a small wave, while Kie offered tightlipped smile. The latter of the pair led the group to a computer and sat down, tossing her backpack on the ground. "Seriously, Pope," she whispered, "you are driving me insane."

Stella pulled out a chair and sat next to the curly-haired girl, listening intently as Pope replied, "That guy was from the scholarship committee." He passed the letter over and urged them to open it. "Read it."

Kie passed it to JJ. "Out loud."

He took it in his hands and squinted at the words. "I can't read cursive."

The corners of Stella's lips quirked upwards before falling just as fast and she shook her head. "Give it here," she said, plucking the paper from his grasp. "Dear Mr. Heyward, I am reaching out because I have material evidence that can exonerate John B. Routledge."

She shared a shocked expression with JJ and Kie before continuing. "It is of vital importance that you come and meet with me in person at my offices at 27 King Street, Charleston at 8:00 p.m. sharp tonight. Please come alone. Regards, C. Limbrey. What the fuck?"

Kie took the letter and studied it. "Charleston?" she questioned, her eyes moving to dart between the two honour students. "That's like an eight-hour drive plus the ferry. How will we get there tonight?"

Stella sighed. "We'd have to leave right now." Her hand slipped into her back pocket and she pulled out her phone, instantly scrolling through her contacts. "I have a shift at the hospital later, I'll need to find someone to cover."

"Wait," JJ said, reaching over to lean on the table. "Material evidence? What does that even mean, 'material evidence'?"

"It means this Limbrey person can clear John B's name."

"Oh, shit," the blond exclaimed, "then we're going to Charleston."

The librarian shushed them again, causing Stella to send her an apologetic smile.

Kie copied her actions, then turned to her friends. "I gotta tell my mom."

"Same," Stella nodded. "Knowing us, we'll probably end up crashing there overnight and my mom leaves for Seattle in the morning."

JJ nodded as if he were remembering something. "Oh, yeah. For the trauma medicine convention thing, right?"

Pope looked over at her with raised brows. "Your mom's going to the AAST convention?"

"Yeah," the golden girl buzzed, grinning with pride. "She's a special guest speaker. She peer reviewed this paper a few months ago about how trauma gets, like, trapped in the body, and she's been researching regenerative medicine which is really cool, so—"

"Look," Kie interrupted, giving the girl a warning look to get back on topic. Stella recoiled into her seat with a meek smile. "If we get it this time, we are not giving it to Shoupe."

At the same time JJ said, "Yeah, no duh," Stella replied with, "Definitely not." They locked eyes for a moment before turning away from each other.

Beside them, Pope let out a sigh.

"What?" the other three questioned.

He pointed to the screen where a dated picture from the 1800s was shown. They had seen the picture before, specifically in Big John's office. "I'm not sure, but I think whoever this Limbrey person is, they might be related to the captain of the Royal Merchant."

His words hung heavily in the air. They didn't know exactly how everything was connected, but they knew enough to conclude that going to Charleston was their number one priority.

"THERE'S NO WAY we're taking this car," Kie stated firmly as she pulled into the driveway of Marx Mansion. They had left the library right away, skipping the rest of the school day in hopes of getting to Charleston on time.

Pope huffed and looked at her. "Why not?"

"There's barely a chance that my parents will let me go at all, let alone take the car."

"Fair point." He turned to Stella. "What about you?"

The golden girl immediately shook her head. "We are not using my mom's car."

Next to her, JJ scratched his head sheepishly. "Yeah... Emma would kill us if we crashed it and we definitely can't afford to fix an Audi, dude."

Pope let out a sigh, knowing that left one option heavily relying on him lying to his dad.

Stella said her goodbyes and hopped out of the car.

"Good luck!" JJ called from the open window.

The golden girl offered a thumbs up to acknowledge his well wishes and crossed the threshold of her house.

"Mom?" She called, shutting the door behind her. The house was quiet—not necessarily an unusual thing considering only two of them lived there—and her voice echoed against the walls, travelling up the high ceilings to the office where Emma stressed over her presentation notes.

The surgeon's voice flowed down from the second floor. "Up here!" When Stella appeared in the doorframe, she stopped what she was doing and glanced at her watch. School didn't let out for another five hours. "Why aren't you in school, missy?"

Stella stepped into the room. "I have a question to ask you," she stated, avoiding her mom's question.

Giving the the girl a stern yet quizzical stare, Emma placed her papers on the desk. "Okay..."

The young girl twisted the amethyst ring on her finger. She could remember when her mother gifted it to her. She had just recovered from a terrible sickness that left her bedridden for two weeks. It was the first day that she could walk around without getting dizzy and they decided to spend the weekend in Charleston. Her mother had picked it out and the shop lady had said amethysts were a particularly good crystal for healing. The ring was the first piece of jewelry that meant something to her. She was devastated when she lost it last year, but recently found it while sulking in her room during her break up.

Emma saw her anxious habit and urged her on. "Stells, what is it?"

"Can I go to Charleston tonight?"

A small laugh escaped the older woman's lips. "What? My love, you can't go to Charleston on a school night. If it were the weekend, maybe, but not during the week."

"Mom, it's about John B," Stella tried to argue. She moved to sit in the chair opposite to her mom. "Pope got this letter from a benefactor of the scholarship foundation and this Limbrey person said they have material evidence that could clear JB's name. I know it's a school night, but I'll be back by tomorrow morning, I swear."

"What about your shift later?"

"I found someone to cover. So... Can I go?"

Emma took a deep breath in and regarded her with a look that was almost pity. "Baby, I know it's been hard and I want justice for him too, but we talked about this. Shoupe has it covered."

"Shoupe doesn't have anything covered." Stella scoffed. "If the investigation for Peterkin's death was a person, they would be butt naked. It's a joke! He's incompetent and corrupt and—"

"Stella-Anne!" Emma chastised with a warning stare. She wasn't so much bothered by her opinion about Shoupe as she was about her daughter's persistence to chase a lead. "You need to stop putting yourself in these dangerous positions—"

The corners of Stella's lips quirked. "Dangerous? I'm going to Charleston, not hell."

"Knowing you and your friends, you'd find a way there too. Look, John B wouldn't want you to go on all these wild goose chases. If he were here right now—"

At her words, a realization came tumbling into Stella's mind. She didn't know John B wasn't actually dead.

"He's alive, Mom."

The room filled with silence.

Emma froze, her face running pale, and her voice shook as she spoke next.

"What?"

"He's alive," Stella repeated. "John B and Sarah are alive. They survived the storm." She pulled her phone from her back pocket and slid it across the table, the selfie of the undead couple smiling on the screen. "He texted us a few days ago. They're laying low in the Bahamas right now and they can't come home until we clear JB's name. I need to go to Charleston."

With shaky hands, Emma picked up the phone and inspected the picture. "Is this really him?" She looked up at her daughter with hopeful eyes and in that moment, Stella realized just how badly John B's apparent death had affected her. She hadn't noticed it through her own grief.

"It is. And I know because I gave him that bracelet he's wearing the very last time I saw him."

"Oh my god."

Stella nodded and shifted closer to the edge of her seat. "Please, I'll be back in time for school tomorrow, I promise, but I have to go now if we're gonna make it in time."

"Stella, listen to me." The older woman leaned closer with a surprisingly serious expression. "You need to tell John B to come home."

The golden girl furrowed her brows. "But he'll get arrested."

"I know, but you need to trust that Shoupe—"

"I am not trusting Shoupe. When has he ever given me a reason to do that?"

"Okay, then trust me," Emma pleaded. "Peterkin's death is still being looked into. John B's name can still be cleared. I love you, and I love John B, but you're not going to Charleston tonight."

Her voice had a sense of finality to it and Stella knew better than argue any further. "Okay," she sighed, "fine."

She was sent to her room when the conversation died, but she wasn't ready to give up yet. After a quick text to her friends, the golden girl started to write a letter to her mother, apologizing for the actions of her future self. Sneaking out shouldn't be too hard. She used to do it all the time and she had seen her friends disappear over the edge of her balcony more times than she could count.

When Pope's beaten truck finally pulled up to the side of Stella's house, JJ offered to go and get her, opting for tossing rocks at her window and singing, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Stella snuck out of her balcony doors, her head peaking over the railing as she sent him a harsh look. "Sh! Are you trying to get me caught?" She begun climbing down, overly cautious of her footing since it had been a while since she did this. When she was about a foot above the ground, her foot slipped. She would've fallen if it wasn't for JJ catching her.

"Falling for me again, Stel?" JJ questioned with a laugh, hands still wrapped around her waist.

She rolled her eyes and gave him a hard shove.

When she was settled back on her feet, JJ pulled a paper bag from his back pocket. It was held together with a poorly tied ribbon and she looked at it with a raised brow. "Here," he grinned, holding it out for her to take.

Giving him a confused look, she pinched it between her fingers. When she opened the bag, she was met with pieces of chocolate almond bark from her favourite bakery on the North Side. "What is this?"

"Chocolate." His grin was unwavering.

"I can see that. Why are you giving it to me?"

The blond shrugged. "Because they're your favourite." (And because he was trying to get back on her good side. Not that he would tell her that.)

"You're so weird." She walked past him and shoved the bag of candy against his chest. "Come on."

IT DIDN'T TAKE long for the group of teenagers to reach the ferry, nor did it take long for Stella to realize Kie was dealing with intense family issues.

When Kie told them about her possible exile to the mainland, Stella couldn't believe her parents were actually considering shipping her off to boarding school.

"They can't just do that!" Stella exclaimed, harshly biting into a piece of chocolate. She offered the open paper bag to her friend. "Here, take some. Remus says chocolate helps."

JJ sat down across from her and squinted. "Who's Remus?"

"Lupin," Stella replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. In her defence, JJ should've caught her reference. They did have a Harry Potter movie marathon every Christmas.

The blond nodded and leaned forward to steal the piece of chocolate Stella was holding. Looking up at his curly-haired friend, he popped it in his mouth and finished rolling the joint he had been previously occupied with. "I hear they got good weed at boarding school, though."

Kie shook her head and sat down next to him. "I'm not going to boarding school. They're gonna have to kidnap me, tie me up, and throw me in a van."

"Well, I say we just crumble some herb right now." He held out an open palm, wordlessly asking for the lighter Stella carried around for him.

"That's your solution to everything," she pointed out, digging through her pockets.

"Yeah and it hasn't failed yet, so light her up, Stella-Anne."

Rolling her eyes, Stella pushed his hand away and lit the end of his joint. She watched as he inhaled, closed eyed and head tilting back slowly. She didn't mean to stare as long as she did, but the way smoke fell from his lips had her in a trance. By the time she snapped herself out of it, he was already staring back at her.

Thankfully Pope was oblivious to their interaction and unintentionally took the attention off of them by asking Kie if she had any luck in reaching John B.

"Some random lady at a hotel keeps answering," she replied with a shrug. "He probably stole it, sent us the message, then gave it back."

"Well, until we hear from them again, we gotta try and clear his name. Right now, this letter's our best bet."

JJ nodded. "Right. Stay on task. That's why I love ya, Pope."

Stella was about to make a smart comment about John B's less than adequate skill in the art of thievery, but was cut off by her ringtone before she could even start. Looking down at her phone screen, she cursed under her breath and stepped away from the group, sitting on the farthest end of the truck bed.

With a deep breath, she accepted the call.

"Hey, Mom."

She knew what kind of conversation was about to come and Emma was just as mad as she thought she'd be.

"Where the hell are you?"

Stella grimaced at her tone. "Uh, the hospital. Thought I'd come in early."

As if the universe was working against her, the horn of the ferry sounded.

"So you're lying to me now?"

She could practically hear the way her mother's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Mom, I'm so sorry, but I need to help John B. We can clear his name—"

"No, this is where you zip it!" Emma snapped. It wasn't often that she lost her temper with Stella, but her patience had run thin and she was only human. "There are people for this kind of stuff. Fully trained adults, not teenagers."

"I know you told me not to—"

"For good reason, Stella-Anne. But instead listening to me, instead of trusting me, you snuck out of the house and did the one thing I told you not to do!"

She flinched at the harshness of her mother's voice. It was unfamiliar. They never argued. And while Stella could understand her mother's anger (she did sneak out and lie, after all), what she didn't understand was why her mother was so against it if it meant that her surrogate son could return home. It wasn't like her mom to be unsupportive.

"Why are you so against this?" she asked, pure confusion in her voice. "Don't you want John B and Sarah to come home?"

Emma sighed in defeat. She didn't like fighting either. "Of course I do," she conceded, wishing that she could just tell Stella about the investigation for the Camerons. "I want nothing more, but not at the expense of your safety. You don't know who this Limbrey person is, or how they got this evidence in the first place. There are things going on that you don't understand yet, and those things can't come to fruition if you and your friends keep meddling about."

Stella had questions. Ones mentioned by her mother: Who was Limbrey and how did they get the evidence? And others that were solely hers: How did Limbrey know Pope was involved with John B? What were the things she didn't understand?

"Stella, please."

There was a tinge of desperation in her tone that caused Stella to frown. Guilt chipped away at her insides. She didn't act out, not usually. She tried her best to do what she was told, to stay respectful, and kind. Perhaps it was because of all the things she witnessed her mother go through in her childhood that she decided she wouldn't be one of those problems.

"I'm sorry," the young girl said after a moment. Her mom didn't need the added stress of her endeavours on top of the pressure applied by her impending presentation.

On the other end of the line, Emma nodded. "You and I will be having another talk when you get home."

"Alright."

"I'm guessing you didn't go alone?"

"No."

"Is JJ there?"

"Yeah...?"

"Can I speak with him?"

Stella got up and tried to pass the phone to JJ. His gaze flickered between her hand and her face as he moved farther away from it, like it would burn him if he touched it.

"Is she mad?" The blond questioned, eyes wide with panic. "Because I don't want it if she's mad—" Stella just rolled her eyes and forced the phone to his ear. "Hey, Mama M! What's up? Yeah. Yeah. I am. I know, but... I know and I'm sorry."

His demeanour then changed and he quieted down. His eyes flickered over to Stella for a fleeting moment before he nodded his head and said something else to the surgeon. "Yeah, for sure. Promise. Ha, ha. I am reliable, you know."

Moments later, he hung up and handed the phone back to Stella.

With a curious tilt of her head, she asked, "What did she say?"

The blond merely shrugged with a smug grin. "Just that we're stupid for doing this." Stella knew he was lying but didn't press any further, assuming that her mother was just being a concerned parental figure. "Now, where's my J?"

AS IT TURNED out, the universe was really out to get the four Pogues today. Because no more than two hours after reaching the mainland, Pope's truck started smoking under the hood. They were forced to pull over and call a mechanic, pushing whatever plans they had back by several hours.

Stella watched from the bed of another truck as JJ and Pope worked with the mechanic to figure out what exactly was wrong. Her eyes lingered on the blond as he conversed animatedly with his hands before turning to the girl beside her. "I hope Limbrey is understanding about this," she sighed. Her phone went off and she saw it was a text notification from her mother. "Shit."

Kie stared blankly at the space in front of her. "My parents are gonna be so pissed."

Stella didn't say anything, opting to let her rant instead of giving advice that wasn't asked of her.

Kie continued, "I feel like they look at me and see this massive screw up. They have this image of me, but I'm like a piece in the wrong puzzle and I don't fit. And then they get mad, but they don't even try to get to know me. They just—" She closed her eyes and tilted her head back in a feeble attempt to stop her tears from falling. As it turns out, she more affected by it than she thought she was. "I don't know, I wouldn't expect you to get it."

How could she? Stella was the golden girl. She played the part of Kook Princess so perfectly that most adults from Figure Eight forgot that she had any association with the South Side. Perfect grades, volunteering, occasional tutoring when she felt like making more money, and a good relationship with her mother. Stella was the reference image her parents tried to frame and Kie was the photo of their failure.

Stella's brows furrowed "Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?" Stella questioned. She took Kie's silence as a yes. "I see someone who brings extra water bottles to protests so everyone stays hydrated. A girl who let me ruin her favourite shirt because I was crying about a boy. A girl who goes out of her way to be there for the people she loves. Someone who is determined, and passionate, and loyal. And an amazing friend."

Kie sniffled and swiped her thumb under her nose.

"I may not get it," Stella continued, her voice dripping in empathy, "but I know that you aren't a screw up. You're far from it, Kiara."

"Then why do my parents want to get rid of me so badly?"

Before Stella could further reassure her, JJ came bounding up the side of the truck with a dopey smile. "Dude's in heaven right now," he laughed, pointing over at Pope. "'Gotta know the calibration point before you do anything with the intake valve, JJ. You do the—'" He stopped when he saw the frowns on the girls' faces. "Hey. Y'all alright?"

Kie shrugged. "My mom is so worried that I'm gonna be a Pogue that she's willing to send me to boarding school."

"Well, I guess that's what you get for hanging out with the wrong crowd, Kie," he chided, watching as Stella rested her head on the girl's shoulder.

"I mean, I'm not gonna go. It's too late anyway. I already am who I am."

"Ain't all that bad. Just look at that guy over there." He pointed to Pope again and the curly haired Pogue looked over. "He would do anything for us. That's a Pogue if I've ever seen one. Bone-deep. That's just one man's opinion, though."

A thoughtful look crossed her features and she stood up, causing Stella to readjust how she was sitting. "I'm gonna go pay for this," she said, eyes locked on Pope.

Stella nodded. "I'll come with you. We can split the cost—"

"It's okay, Stel. I got it."

ONE SIDE EFFECT of the recent stress added to Stella's life was that she was in her head a lot. When she wasn't attempting to sleep, she was wide awake, staring at the wall with her thoughts getting louder and louder with every passing second.

After they left the mechanic, the group of four found themselves in an empty field for the night. They opted for sleeping in the bed of the truck, Pope's dad having the foresight to pack blankets in case of an emergency, with Stella closest to the cab, JJ next to her, then Kie and Pope.

Trapped between her ex and the metal of the truck, the golden girl stared up at the night sky until she was almost certain the others had fallen asleep.

Tonight was no different. She still couldn't sleep and her thoughts were still loud.

It felt weird to lay under the stars without the sound of distant waves crashing against the shores. It was too quiet, and that made everything a little worse.

Looking up, her eyes traced the constellations. She had never been a big fan of astronomy, though she did have a phase a few years ago after watching Harry Potter for the first time and falling in love with Sirius Black.

The stars were always Sarah's thing. When it came to astronomy, Stella took a more astrophysical approach. She had read a paper once that said neither Earth nor the Milky Way had an up or down. That the two directions were relative and a social construct made by humans to help in local navigation, because when you stand on Earth, you're really just sticking out into space.

Sometimes she liked to pretend that she was looking down at the stars instead of up. The only thing that kept her from falling down into the dark abyss was gravity. So she'd lie there, trapped in a gravitational bond, staring down at the blazing balls of gas. She become one with the universe. All of her problems became a little smaller that way. There was no grief to misplace, no academic pressure to succeed, and no ex-boyfriend to miss. Though the last one was a little hard to ignore considering he was lying next to her.

With a heavy heart, Stella let out a small sigh.

"Hey, I thought you were asleep."

The golden girl looked over to find JJ staring at her. It seemed that she wasn't the only one lost in their thoughts.

She raised a brow in response. "I could say the same thing."

Truthfully, JJ was exhausted. His eyes burned and his body ached. Sleep was like a siren, slowly coaxing him into the shores of slumber. But he refused to go because falling asleep would mean less time with the girl beside him and that was something he couldn't afford to lose.

"A thought for a thought?"

The question took Stella back to that night in her bedroom when they spoke of their future and plans to travel the world. She clenched her jaw, but nodded anyways. "You go first."

"I'm worried about you," he confessed, slowly and cautiously. Emma had asked him to make sure she was okay, and while the surgeon was generally always worried about her kids, there was something in her voice that was a cause for concern.

He waited for her to strike back. When she didn't, he continued, "You're tired all the time and your mom said you haven't been sleeping."

Stella turned to the stars, pursing her lips. "You don't need to worry about me."

"There might not be a need, but I still want to."

He hesitated for a moment, eyes outlining the edge of her face. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull her into his arms, but he knew that wasn't his place anymore and it was no one's fault but his own.

"I'm gonna fix things," he promised. "I'm sorry, and I swear to God, Stella, I'm gonna fix it."

With a small intake of breath, she looked over at him again. There was genuine sincerity in his stare, like he's never wanted anything more. But she didn't know what to say in the face of pure vulnerability.

JJ moved onto his side and light reflected a chain around his neck. Like a video captured in slow motion, Stella watched as the familiar ring fell from where it rested on his chest and tumbled out of its hiding spot under his shirt. He tried to hide it, but it was too late. She had already seen it.

"You never gave me a reason."

He almost didn't hear her. Her voice was weak and just above a whisper. She was scared of his response and he was too scared to reply at all.

"For why we broke up," she continued with a frown. "You ghosted me. Why?"

Losing a best friend and losing a lover were horrible things. But losing your best friend in that lover was something JJ knew he'd never be able to recover from. He wouldn't survive if he lost Stella like he thought he lost John B, and he sure as hell knew that Stella felt the same way about him. So he held her at a distance because maybe the feelings would fade, and maybe if it came down to it, it wouldn't hurt as much. He wanted to protect her. And in his grief-stricken mind, no amount of wishing they had normal lives, far from the threat of killers and framed murders, would protect her the same way. He had yet to realize that wasn't the case.

"I... I was scared."

Stella blinked and a soft exhale fell from her lips.

"Sarah was scared too."

JJ's heart dropped.

He felt like a complete asshole. How could he forget? How could he forget the way Stella confided in him after Sarah's return? How could he forget the way her voice trembled or the tears that ran down her cheeks? Or how being left behind with no explanation or warning by someone she loved made her feel like she never mattered to them at all?

He thought that ghosting her would be the easiest way to go about things, but he forgot about the last time that happened to her.

How could he forget?

"Stella—"

She let out a humourless chuckle and shook her head. Her jaw clenched and she willed herself to stop crying before the tears on her waterline ever had the chance to fall.

"Makes perfect sense, though." Here was a twinge of bitter resentment in her tone. "Cut me off to avoid losing me."

Without looking at the crestfallen expression on the blond's face, she turned so her back as facing him.

"Goodnight, JJ."

RAE SPEAKS !
remember how sad stella was about sarah ghosting her? well, this time is worse because it was jj :(

jj @ himself rn: