chapter 6.
over and over
and over again.

୨୧

Josephine has never been a huge fan of food. not in the restrictive, harmful sort of way; she just tended to get stuck in her thoughts. not that this is anything new, but she couldn't help thinking about how there are all these things living inside of her body that eats the food for her; it's not really her that is eating, but at the same time she sort of is those things. like, she's not a person so much as a disgusting swarm of bacteria. and there's no way to rid herself of this disgust, no way to feel clean, because the dirtiness goes all the way through.

sometimes, josephine fears that even if she could reach all the way down, deep inside herself, she'd never find a clean part; not a single area that's pure or untouched by this bacteria. and isn't this 'pure' part supposedly where the soul sits? so what if this means jo has no more of a soul than the bacteria eating the food inside of her body? and if this is true, then what if....

"jo." josephine snaps back into focus. she's in the revamped maybank kitchen, sat at its island. a concerned jj stands across, gesturing to her untouched breakfast plate. "you need to eat."

the very thought of eating food she hadn't made her self, or at the very least watched be made, makes josephines blood run cold. what if the eggs weren't cooked all the way through? jj notices her hesitation and snickers teasingly. "i didn't poison them, j. try some."

jj was a fucking idiot. while of course he didn't purposely poison her breakfast, she could still get salmonella. or perhaps he added a seasoning jo hadn't had before, and she could have an allergic reaction that may send her into anaphylactic shock. josephines breath stalls and the wound underneath her bandage pulses and jj is staring at her expectingly and what were the symptoms of sepsis again?

"i gotta use the bathroom." jo excuses herself, her chair brushing the backs of her knees as she stands. "be right back."

safe inside the locked restroom, josephine allows herself to spiral. she's become quiet familiar with these whirlwind thoughts. they don't scare her anymore; they used to, but they have become her now. she goes through the motions as easily as one might rush through their morning routine.

fever. josephine frantically presses the back of a hand against her forehead. she certaintly felt warm, but it was summer. perhaps she was only sweating. but you're having difficulty breathing—a second common symptom. this was true; josephine finds she cannot catch her breath and her heart is racing beyond its normal constant pounding. a third symptom— fast heart rate. you must have not changed the bandaid. but she knew she did. she always did. must have missed an hour. jo was sure she didn't; she religiously changed the bandage every exact hour on the dot. not fast enough. not enough. not enough and now you have sepsis and you will die. you will die of sepsis all because you couldn't change a stupid fucking bandaid on time and—

the wound site. check the wound site. josie pulls shaky hands underneath the glow of bathroom lights; her fingers move as one, ripping bandage from skin. they've rehearsed this scene thousands and thousands of times before. she examines the pad of her index finger like a biologist might a specimen under a microscope. her heart slows and breath calms when the mental boxes for each physical sign goes unchecked. no sepsis. for now. it could just not be visible yet. you should still change the bandaid. so she does, in rapid succession. she knows this scene by heart. remove old bandage. hand sanitizer on wound. press new bandaid on tightly. deep breathes in the mirror, blow candles. she returns to the kitchen like nothing happened.

her brother is staring like she's fucking crazy. (and you suppose you are.) josephine slips back onto her abandoned stool; jj is staring at her and why was he looking at her like she couldn't see him?

"i can't eat those." jo settles on telling him, shoving the plate of eggs back towards the boy.

jj figures as much after that display. "um..." she needs to eat something, but he wasn't about to risk setting off whatever the hell that was again. he gulps and swipes nervously at a brow. big emotions and freak outs and little sisters are not his strong suit. he tugs open the fridge. "uh... banana?" to himself he's thinking, what the fuck was that? but bites it back. josephine still scares him and he's still trying to figure her out, which is proving harder than expected. (way harder.)

josephine visibly relaxes at the fruit. bananas were predictable—tasted the same each time—and you ate what was inside. you could easily tell from its outer appearance it's edibility; no risk of consuming outside bacteria, especially jjs outside bacteria. jo nods. "okay."

she bites into the ripe fruit just as her brothers entire friendgroup barges in. pope spreads a map across the kitchen island and a corner lands across the abandoned plate of eggs. josephine for once is grateful for the extreme ways her mind works. the page was old and yellowed and definitely not the least bit sanitary.

"okay. so, looking at the schematics of the ship, it'll probably be best to enter in around here." pope gets right to the point as he pulls out a pencil, marking his words on the map. josephine can't help but appreciate his need to be over-prepared and decisive—quick to the point and all facts.

"genrette wasn't kidding about the stash." pope continues. he reveals the captains log wes had lent the teens. "look, in the captains log, it says there's a secret compartment..." he points to a sketch on old yellowed pages. "...right here behind the headboard in the captains quarters."

josephine had thought john b had put an immediate stop to this treasure-hunting gig. "are we still talking about this?"

jj crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the countertops. "yup."

"the ships been down there, what, like three hundred years? it's a lost cause." john b agrees. "it's been salvaged. we know this."

"not gonna hurt to check." cleo chimes in. "yeah. it feels right." jj places a second map across the island. "and also, we know exactly where it is. it's right in this area."

john b squints, following the blondes gesture to a general point on the map. "except we don't know exactly where it is."

"what about the coast guard?" jj shrugs. "bet they know where it is. i've heard coasties are quite chill, so we could probably just ask them." john b gets an idea. "hey, wait. pope, isn't your uncle in the coast guard?"

"my uncle roger?" pope shakes his head. "no, no, no. that's not gonna work. my uncle roger's the most straight-laced, by-the-books person in the history of the world. it's not gonna happen."

sarah crosses her arms. "more by-the-books than you?"

"first, i didn't graduate high school. i had to get a ged." pope argues. josephine arches an eyebrow. it seems as though she hadn't been the only one who's changed over the past few years. "that's pretty loosey-goosey." he rises from his stool and paces the kitchen. "so... other options." he pauses. "wait, jj. isn't your friend in the coast guard? boogie." jo scoffs. she's suddenly fully recovered from breakfast. "oh, boy."

"boogs? he's in the reserves, bro."

"yeah, but he'd probably know." pope continues to push.

"that's not what i'm saying." jj explains, "he's a marina rat, all right? living paycheck to paycheck. if we're gonna get any intel out of him, he's gonna need to be bribed." he shrugs. "which, look, i'm totally fine with doing. it's just—" john b and sarah interrupt. "no."

"all right. there's your answer right there." jj leans back. "so in my mind, i'm like, best case scenario is if i had an uncle who knew where the wreck was, would maybe tell us for free.... oh, that's right. you do." he says to pope. "so, that should be our first stop."

"you're not listening, all right?" pope reiterates. "i dropped a cracker in that man's garage one time and he made me clean the whole thing. he's not the person who will give out classified information. he's just not."

josephine scoffs. "not with that attitude."

"dude, your uncle might literally know where it's at, and he might even tell us for free." jj presses. "you just gotta try."

kiara agrees. "he could say yes."

"also, i thought all pogues were team players here, so..."

"no!"

sarah reaches out a hand. "not even a single woogity?"

"what happened to pogues for life?" john b chimes in, reminding josephine of the slogan of her childhood. she grieves forgotten boat days with her brother and his friends, getting into trouble with no return. until jj got into it one too many times and jo was sent away. her face hardens; she doesn't want to remember.

but that was then, and this is now. she joins in. "take one for the team, pope!" the older boy only shakes his head. "i'm not asking him."

𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼

Josephine waits john b's van as pope returns from asking his uncle roger for the wrecks location. he stomps over. "i don't think he's gonna look at me the same way again."

"don't take it too hard, pope." cleo consoles. "he probably gave up on you a long time ago."

john b leans his head out the open window, calling to the blonde sitting on his parked bike. "plan b?" jj smirks, revving his motorcycles engine. "let's find boogie."

she speaks !
me 🤝🏼 making jo lose her shit every chapter
she's making slow progress tho i promise.
notice how she's slowly talking more !