I ran through several red lights, cut through old dirt roads, and kept pressing and pressing down on the gas pedal, trying to go as fast as I could back to where the Twinkie was. For all I knew, the Twinkie would have sunk through the mud, and the tide came in while we were out dropping off Luke Maybanks.

We crashed through the forest, screeched to a stop, and jumped out of the Mercedes (the car Mercedes, not the person Mercedes).

"Where the hell have you guys been?!" Pope who never got mad screamed at us.

I crashed through the trees, stopping at the edge of the huge swamp. John B, Sarah, Pope, and Kiara were all sitting on top of the Twinkie, and John B looked passed out, covered in blood.

"What the fuck happened?" Both JJ and I made moves to step into the marsh to get to the Twinkie, but everyone started yelling at us to stay back.

"There's an alligator," Kie warned.

"It nearly ate John B," Pope added.

Though Sarah and John B were currently "broken up", she looked a deathly white color, and was holding a piece of cloth around his leg, lips pressed into a thin line. It was obvious to anyone that she still cared plenty for him, especially when hurt.

JJ and I rushed to hook the Twinkie up to the Mercedes (the truck, not me), and JJ hopped into the truck, and slowly but surely, pulled the Twinkie out of the marsh.

I helped John B into the Twinkie, putting his arm around my shoulder as he limped inside into the back. Before everyone could get into the car, I pulled Pope to the side, so that we could talk in private.

"Pope I ..." I fingered with the top of my shirt, unsure of what to say.

"It's okay," he smiled kindly. "I know what you're about to say."

"You do?" I said, shocked.

"I predicted it," he shrugged modestly. "And I'm not that stupid. Listen ... us ... were ... well ..." he trailed off.

"Just isn't going to work."

"Exactly," he nodded.

"Pope, I'm sorry. About everything. This whole thing was stupid. I—I was using you to get back at—well, it doesn't matter now. And Kiara was right, in the end." I said.

"I'm not as daft as you think, c'mon, you've got to give me some credit." He joked, but I didn't crack a smile. "Mercedes, I'm not stupid. I knew you were pissed at JJ, and I was hurt because of Kiara. I get it, alright? Let's just move past that ... as friends," he emphasized on the friends part.

"Sure," I agreed, though everything didn't feel that wrapped up. I knew Pope had feelings, deep down, but he never really shared them. He'd been heartbroken when Kie had rejected him, it had crushed him. And I was sure this would definitely put a dent in our friendship, even if he didn't show it.

After that conversation with JJ in the Mercedes truck, I had decided it was unfair to Pope to treat him like that. So I'd decided to break it off with Pope. Though our conversation had gone considerably well, I still had a nagging feeling that Pope was definitely hurt. We would never be able to be just Pogues, hanging out, we'd always have our past "fling" hanging over our heads, a constant reminder.

It'd been selfish to use him. Even though he had said he knew the whole time, and yeah, he'd been pretty hurt because of Kiara too, I had still made a stupid, selfish decision.

Besides, it hadn't even worked! I don't know what the fuck I had been thinking, but apparently JJ thought that kissing me would be like kissing a "drowned rat". I had thought it'd been working at the start, JJ had been acting pretty rude to me, though he calmed down after a while. He'd been able to hide his emotions a lot better, I guess. Or he was just unaffected as I thought he would be.

The car ride to the church was awkward. Pope and I were awkward of course, but thankfully he wasn't in the Twinkie; he was behind us driving the Mercedes. Kiara was pissed at me; even though I'd cut things off with Pope, she still thought I was a little brat. Which made sense. John B and Sarah weren't talking; which was just amazing.. And JJ was his stupid normal self, oblivious to everything.

"Who's ready to get that gold cross?" He sang, tapping his hands against the wheel as he drove. I wasn't sure who had made the dumb decision to allow him to drive, he was by no means capable, whether he was sober or drunk. (In this case, he was sober. It didn't make much of a difference anyway.)

"JJ ... please," Sarah said in a voice that said she was exhausted from the long day. It was late evening, maybe around 6PM or so, and the sun was beginning to set.

We headed to this old church, and Pope found this cross hidden inside the old wooden beams. Unfortunately there were bees, and he started to get stung. He started to have an allergic reaction, and he couldn't breath, so we were forced to leave the million dollar worth gold cross, an ancient relic, hidden poorly under a couple of cushions, and rush Pope off to a doctor.

Or in the case, JJ's definitely trustworthy cousin, who was apparently a paramedic.

We hopped into the Mercedes truck, and I drove at a breakneck speed while Sarah attempted CPR on him—she had learned from her life guarding camp training last summer. For once, I was grateful for her dad's idea of putting her into that camp.

JJ's cousin fixed Pope up with a needle into his leg, which also meant injecting him with a bunch of antisepticant that would make him act like "a rocket went up his ass". Basically, he'd be pretty sky high for the next hour or so. Breathing, but definitely up on anesthesia.

"WHOO—HOO!" Pope did a little leprechaun jump as we walked back to the Mercedes truck.

"Holy crap," John B shook his head, limping a little from the alligator bite.

"I'm driving," Pope announced, jumping into the driver's seat.

"Uh ... I don't know about this," I said worriedly.

"Guys, trust me," Pope said, a little too energetically.

"Sure," Kiara said, in a voice that sounded like she definitely didn't trust him.

"Let the man live a little," JJ backed Pope up, and we all gave in and got into the car.

Pope's driving was like JJ, only—I can't believe I'm saying this—worse. He swerved like crazy, making the tires screeched. We almost died like ten times. I never stopped screaming, and everyone was holding onto something, bracing for impact. Meanwhile, Pope was having the time of his life, singing at the top of his lungs as he drove.

"He definitely should not be driving—!" Sarah yelled just in time as we swerved and crashed off the road, crunching right into a great pine tree.

The impact nearly knocked all the air from my lungs, but thankfully, no one was seriously hurt. Other than a couple of bruises, we were all fine. The car on the other hand ...

I got out of the car with the others, shaking my head. "Oh shit. My dad is gonna flip!" The car was ruined; the front hood completely crunched up around the tree, and smoke was coming up from it which smelt like burnt plastic.

"You're dad literally flips at anything. Besides, isn't he gonna notice the missing car by now?" Kie pointed out.

"Oh trust me, he'll notice," I said darkly, staring at the car crash.

"Holy shit—that was Rafe!" Pope started after a big van that drove past us.

We stared at each other for a second then—"The cross!" I yelled, and all of us broke out into a run, dashing back to the church. But it was too late. The gold cross was gone, no doubt stolen by Rafe and his goonies.

This time we took the Twinkie back from the church, because the Mercedes truck was ... out of order, to say the least. The whole time I drove us back, Pope was in a nasty mood. He was definitely gone off his meds, but was upset about the whole ordeal. The cross meant a lot to him, it was his family's legacy, and it had been snatched out of his hand, once again, by Rafe Cameron. It seemed everything was about the Camerons.

As I drove back, I strained my eyes at the road. It was dark now, around 9PM, and the sun had fully set. Everyone sat in silence, in a down sort of mood. We'd been this close to getting The Royal Merchant, but of course it'd been snatched away by greedy Kooks. Then once again, we'd been that close to getting the cross of Santo Domingo, but of course Rafe just had to steal it away for his stupid profit.

Then the sirens broke out.

A Sheriff's car started behind us, sirens wailing and flashing in the dark. I swore, and was forced to pull the Twinkie over the side of the road. Unfortunately, we had been pulled over right across from the car wreckage of the Mercedes truck.

I rolled down my window, dreading as a cop walked forward—

"Evening, Mercedes." My father said.

Oh shit.

I swallowed, and JJ whistled from the back, and small tittering broke out from the other Pogues, hushing him.

"What's up?" I said casually.

"You have any idea why I pulled you over?" Oh he was mad, beyond mad.

"No, no idea," I said innocently.

"We'll maybe you'll step out of the goddamn car to see your own car crashed on the side of the fucking road?!" He thundered

"Look—"

"Enough. You're coming home," my father said. "This has gone far enough. If you don't ..." his hand drifted to his pistol as a warning. He was Sheriff Shoupe, but he was also my father. And as much as I didn't want to come with him, I had no choice.

"I'll see you guys," I said miserably, and got out of the Twinkie.

My father locked the doors, pressed the gas, and we zoomed forward. As we passed the Twinkie, I put my hand on the glass. JJ did the same, and we stared at each other until the car rounded the corner and the Twinkie disappeared out of sight.

I turned to look at my father. His hands were white against the steering wheel, I'd never seen him so furious in my life. Not even when I'd ran away, no, apparently crashing the car was the tipping point for him to finally act and get off his ass to force me home.

"You're not going to throw me into jail?" When he didn't respond, I kept going. "Because I'm pretty sure crashing the Mercedes is definitely something to go to Juvi for—"

"You're grounded." He said, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Big deal," I rolled my eyes.

"Your rooms had some upgrades, so don't even think about running away again. You won't be pulling that stunt anymore."

I felt my heart sink. Upgrades probably meant a deadbolt look on my door from the outside, and my window was definitely cemented in. That meant I had no chances of escaping now. How would I be getting back to the Pogues? That was the last time I would ever be seeing them now.

"And I've reserved you a spot at Camp Kitty Hawk," he continued. "In case you do run off, which I wouldn't be surprised."

"So now you're shipping me off to some mental asylum camp?!" I exclaimed.

"If you put even one more toe over the line, yes. And it's a camp for troubled teens."

"Troubled teens?! Troubled teens?! I'm not some coo coo idiot, you fucking—"

"Enough, Mercedes," he said curtly, and that was all.

↬——✾——↫

I was forced up to my room, and the moment the door shut behind me, I scouted the room. I had been right, my window was cemented shut, and my door was locked from the outside. From the sound of the clicks chinking into place, it was a heavy one too. It would be useless to break the window, with the shattering glass he would come running the minute I broke it.

I scouted my room for stray hairpins, scissors, or any sort of weapon I might find useful to escape, but to my dismay, those had been taken too. He'd gone through my stuff, taking away hair clips, old safety pins, mini scissors, my old laptop, basically anything useful. The only things left were useless random items and my clothes.

My clothes! I ran to my dresser, and started emptying my pockets. But of course he'd thought of that too, and nothing was left.

Eventually, I gave up and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I had stuck these glow-in-the-dark stars up on it a couple years ago, but had never taken it down. I inhaled a bit, the sheets were still clean. Smelt like the familiar detergent he used, it smelt like Kook.

Suddenly, it felt like there was a big lump in my throat, and I tried to swallow it to shove it down, but it wouldn't budge. As I could feel my eyes getting wet, I cursed myself for being so stupid. Why was I getting upset anyway? I should be trying to find an escape plan, instead of wallowing in my own pity on my bed. I should be back in the Twinkie by now, screaming my lungs out to some stupid 2000's song while JJ cheered me on—

I picked up the pillow on my bed and threw it against the opposite wall. It bounced off, flopping pathetically onto the floor.

Eventually, I fell asleep due to sheer exhaustion, not even bothering to take my shoes off.

↬——✾——↫

Tap tap tap.

Tap tap ... TAP!

I sat up, nearly banging my head against the headboard. Would that fucking bird pipe down already? I stalked towards the window, about to shoo the bird away when I yelped, falling back on my butt.

JJ's face stared right back at me, his nose pressed flat against the window. He tapped again, this time more impatient.

I rushed towards the window, my heart leaping. "JJ!" I whispered excitedly, placing my hands against the glass.

He shook his head, then motioned for me to step back. In his other hand he held a decent sized rock, which he mimed aiming it at the window.

He was here to break me out.

Instead, I violently shook my head. He's home! I mouthed.

JJ threw the rock anyway. It smashed through the window, crashing into my room, and glass exploded, falling onto the floor in a tinkling pitter of rain.

. Thankfully, I had managed to dive away from the window just in time to avoid any real damage.

"Hurry the fuck up!" JJ yelled at me.

I wasted no time running towards the window and diving through. I swimmer–dived through it, landing on JJ who "oofed" as we tumbled off the small ledge and fell six feet to the ground.

The air popped out of my lungs as we hit the ground with heavy impact, but thankfully I had fallen on JJ. We stared at each other for a second before my instinct took over.

"I said not to fucking throw the rock, JJ!" I shouted at him as I stood up. "I could've gotten sliced up into pieces of human cheese string, did you think of that?!"

"Why the fuck did you have to fall on me, then?" JJ shouted back.

"You were the genius who thought of jumping out a window, six feet above ground!"

"You could've aimed better—"

"You could've used your fucking none existent brain—"

"OI!" We both spun around to see my father glaring at us from the door.

JJ and I both looked at each other, then ran.

"John B's parked the Twinkie nearby—" JJ gasped out as we ran.

"You didn't think to fucking tell me that in the first place?!" I cursed.

"I was too busy trying to break you out, so be grateful I'm here at all!" He wheezed out.

"Hope in!" Thankfully John B pulled up with the Twinkie just in time, and both JJ and I dived into it, successfully escaping from my father.

a/n: there's so many things wrong with this book, but i think the biggest problem was always that it's so unrealistic. like her dad was just evil to her for no reason, and a lot of the events never add up. like why would pope just forgive her instantly.