╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
— 𝗣𝗜𝗟𝗢𝗧 —
season one, episode one, part one

❝𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞.❞

─── • ───

Nicholas Warren was about as local as they come, an island boy who practically lived for the freedom of summer vacation. He didn't care much for school, or work, or practically anything that didn't involve drinking on the beach in North Carolina. His life had spiralled downwards over the last nine months, but everyone had summed it up as a direct response to the failing marriage between his parents.

Although he'd never admit it to himself, Nick spent his time longing for the endless nights of summer, the marijuana induced highs, the sex with random strangers, the never-ending partying, and anything in between that might distract him from the harshness of his own reality.

In hindsight, the summer of his sophomore year was meant to be one of the longest benders he'd ever recover from, but the universe had other plans for him and his five friends, and it all began on the construction site of a half-built mansion on the rich side of the island, Figure 8...

─── • ───

"That's what, a three-story fall to the deck?" came the voice of the Cut's resident braniac, Pope Heyward, as he judged the height of the mansion from his place on the deck below. "I give you about a one-in-three chance of survival!"

On the roof, sitting with his legs swung over the edge, Nick watched the curve of the coastline change as the tide brushed up on the sand in the distance. Next to him, his best friend, John B. Routledge, balanced on one leg on the ridge of the mansion, with nothing but a beer can in his left hand.

"Hm," John B called back to Pope, sticking his index finger in his mouth before holding it in the air, testing the wind. "Should I do it?"

"Yeah, jump," said Nick, shaking his head at him. "I promise I'll give a touching eulogy at your funeral."

"Well, isn't that sweet," laughed John B. "Maybe I'll —"

"Oh my God," exclaimed the incredulous voice of Kiara Carrera, as she stuck her head out of an unfinished concrete window. "They're going to have Japanese toilets with towel warmers!"

"Towel warmers?" questioned Olivia Warren, Nick's twin sister, as she stepped onto the make-shift balcony just below the roof. "Ridiculous," she scoffed, and then she looked up at John B, frowning. "Can you please not kill yourself?"

"Strange," smirked John B, "your brother just told me to jump. I think I'm getting mixed signals here."

"Yes, well," Olivia shifted her gaze towards Nick, glaring. "My brother's an idiot most days."

"I have my moments," mumbled Nick, crushing an empty beer can between his hands. "Pope, throw me up another, won't you?"

"Got you," Pope instantly threw another beer up towards the roof of the three-story building, and Nick just barely caught it with his left hand. "Just don't drop it, alright? I'm not giving you another one," he added, laughing as Nick attempted to throw the empty can from earlier at his head.

"Hey, check this out," called the excited voice of JJ Maybank, as he joined Olivia on the balcony, brandishing a power drill. "It's got to be worth something, right?"

Olivia's grin grew wider, her hand stifling a giggle.

"It's just a power drill, JJ, it's not exactly a one-of-a-kind tool."

JJ wiggled his eyebrows, taking a seductive step towards the young girl in a joking manner.

"I'll show you a one-of-a-kind tool —"

"This used to be a turtle habitat, you know?" asked Kiara, ignoring JJ and changing the topic before Nick could throw another beer can. Her thoughts still on the construction plans, she added sarcastically, "But who cares about the turtles, I guess?"

"Rich people don't give a fuck about the environment, Kie," said Nick, shrugging. "I mean, why would they? Cold towels are obviously more important."

"Funny," Kiara huffed, and the tight-knit group of teenagers laughed together as they all finished roaming the construction site; the glimpse of the calm, blue sea and the sandy white beach in front of them was almost like something out of a movie.

Nick shook his head, smiling, as he downed the rest of his beer in a single gulp. Then, as a sudden spotlight swept the yard below the deck, he immediately cocked his head back to see a navy blue security vehicle pull into the driveway of the mansion, with two guards occupying both of the front seats.

"Hey! Hey, uh, security's here," called Pope, his voice slightly panicked. "Let's wrap it up."

"Damn," cursed John B, "they're early today."

Nick glanced towards his best friend, his heels wavering over the roof's edge, and shrugged before finally rising to his feet. He threw the empty beer can over his shoulder, and together, he and John B climbed down the scaffolding towards the deck. Behind them, they could hear the security guards yell and scream, their flashlights wavering as they ran after them.

"Hey, get down!"

"You can't be up there!"

JJ laughed hysterically at the sound of their voices, leaning over the balcony's railing.

"Gary, is that you?"

"Look at you go, Gary!" Nick whistled in a teasing manner, as the security guards attempted to hop the nearby fence. "It's good to see you, man!"

"Oh, shit," Olivia gaped, "here come the rent-a-cops!"

"Is it time?" asked John B sarcastically, before he jumped down onto the deck and swung the younger Warren twin over his shoulder.

"John B!" squealed Olivia, playfully swatting his back.

"You guys are asking for it," said Kiara playfully, and she led the way back through the unfinished mansion, heading towards the exit.

Pushing his friends forward, Nick sprinted through the sliding glass doors just as the security guards came storming up the side of the deck, and he turned at the last minute, avoiding Gary's taser by a mere centimetre. The group of teenagers split-up along the way, dispersing through the various hallways of the mansion in attempt to slow down the guards, and they let out hoots and hollers that echoed against the concrete as they ran.

"Too slow, Gary!"

"Come on, Nick, fatso's coming!"

"Get 'em! They're comin' your way!" Nick could hear the guards yelling at one another. "They're going out front!"

Some time after, each of the six teenagers finally burst out of the mansion and onto the front lawn. The two rent-a-cops were closing in on them, their flashlights wavering, but the young teenagers merely laughed as though they were playing some sort of twisted game.

"Come on, boys! Woohoo!"

"Bus is leaving, all aboard!"

Nick sprinted down the front lawn, backflipping off the fence to pull off a random spectacle, before he cut through a hedge and piled into the back of John B's beige Volkswagen van, more commonly known to them as the Twinkie. One by one, the six teenagers clambered into the van, and once they were all accounted for, John B started the ignition and sped down the main road. To everyone's surprise, however, Gary crossed the lawn at the last second, trying to cut them off by running at them at an angle.

"Look at this guy," Nick shouted out the window, "he's gunning for a raise!"

"Come on, Gary!" called JJ encouragingly, and he opened the Twinkie's sliding door, holding out a beer towards the security guard. "Almost there!"

"Stop the car, you little pricks!"

"You're so close, though," JJ urged on, and Nick couldn't help but laugh hysterically as his friend mocked the guard. "You can do it!"

"Come on, Gary," Nick hollered some more, peaking his head out the back. "We both know they don't pay you enough for this, man!"

Olivia shook her head, stifling another laugh, and then slapped her brother playfully on the arm. "Aw, don't be mean," she said empathetically. "He's trying his best!"

"Oh, come on, guys," added Kiara, with a laugh of her own, "you're going to give him a heart-attack!"

"Buzzkill," JJ groaned. "It's not my fault that that sort of initiative is just begging to be punished."

And with one last look out the window, he tossed the beer can at the security guard, laughing despite the fact that Gary dodged it with outstanding ease. His mouth curling into a wide grin, John B merely put his foot on the gas and sped off again as Nick pulled the sliding door closed, shutting the security guard out for the final time.

They drove down the road, with John B and Pope in the front and the others in the back, and the unfinished mansion disappeared over the horizon. Their laughs now subsiding, the group of friends applauded themselves for their slick getaway as they drove passed a sign with a smiling sun that read:
"Welcome to the Outer Banks"

They welcomed each other home as they crossed the town line.

The Outer Banks, paradise on Earth. It's the sort of place where you either have two houses, or two jobs. Two tribes, one island.

Along the way, they drove passed a gated community of a few more giant mansions and unaffordable estates; one after another, the wealthy properties blurred and disappeared as the Twinkie rumbled over an old bridge on the other end of the road.

That's Figure 8, the rich part of the island. Home of the Kooks or, as I often refer to them as, those who depend on daddy's credit card to survive.

So guess where we don't live...

On the other side of the bridge, the group of tight-knit teenagers comfortably welcomed the sight of a dirt road, which was lined with shabby cottages, rusty trailers, and rundown shacks.

This is the Southside, or the Cut. Home of the working class who make a living busing tables, washing yachts, running charters. The natural habitat of — drumroll, please — the Pogues.

That's us. Pogues, pogies, the throwaway fish. Lowest member of the food chain...Okay so, the downside of Pogue life is that we're ignored and neglected. But the upside of Pogue life? We're ignored and neglected, which means we do whatever we want, whenever we want.

You've already met the crew, but let's give them all a proper introduction, shall we? First one up is our fearless leader John B, who you already know as the idiot contemplating whether or not to jump off a roof. He's been my best friend since we were in diapers, believe it or not. Our parents go way back, and yeah, in case you were wondering, he's worn that old, sweaty bandanna for as long as I can fucking remember.

But it's one of the only things his dad ever gave him, so I'll give him a pass. See, Big John disappeared in a boating accident nine months ago, and John B's naturally been a little... on edge ever since.

But Big John's got to be out there somewhere, right? Like I mean, come on, who disappears at sea these days?

Anyways, remember that blonde kid from earlier, the one with a knack for pissing off security guards? That's JJ.

Him, John B, and I have been pretty much inseparable since the third grade. Like myself, he's about as local as they come. Latest in a long line of fishing, drinking, smuggling, vendetta-holding salt-lifers who made their living off the water. He's the best surfer I know, just don't tell him I said that. He's a mild kleptomaniac and a future tax cheat, but hey, those are minor (and somewhat useful) details, depending how you look at it.

And that's Kiara, or Kie, as we call her. When she's not saving turtles or listening to Bob Marley, or getting an instantaneous dolphin tattoo, she hangs out with us. I'm not sure why. Because she's a rich kid. Yeah, you heard right. she's got a foot in both worlds.

Her family owns The Wreck, the best restaurant in town, and a total cash cow with the tourists. I'm not really sure how her parents feel about us. We aren't exactly the most ideal group of friends you'd want your daughter hanging around with. But hey, it's best not to question it, especially since we all sort of have a thing for her.

Hell, I wouldn't even be surprised if my own sister had a thing for her, but I'll get into that more a bit later...

Next up we've got Pope, the brains of the operation. A finalist for Lucas T. Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. The thing about Pope is that he's easily the smartest person I know, but he's got zero game. He's a bit of a laconic weirdo.

His father is this legendary character, Heyward. If you want anything on the island, Heyward can get for you. Now, I'm not sure Heyward knew what to make of his oddball son, but it didn't matter. He was a Pogue, just like the rest of us, and boy, were we glad to call him one of our own.

Then there's Olivia, my annoying little sister. The two of us were born eight minutes and forty-two seconds apart, and I always used to say those were the best eight minutes of my life. But in all honesty, my sister and I get along a lot better than you'd think. Having shared the same friend group for most of our lives, and having dealt with the same absentee parents, Liv and I's relationship has easily become the most constant thing in my life.

The two of us are complete opposites, but there's always more than meets the eye with her. In recent months, she's come out as openly bisexual, and JJ and I always find it funny when she brings home more girls than Pope does. The same can't be said for John B, but I take pride in staying out of my sister's love life, so I'm not going into any further detail as to why that is...

And that's me, Nicholas Andrew Warren.

The Outer Banks is all I've ever known, and I seriously can't complain. My parents own the local surf shop, so I've basically been working my ass off ever since I was a kid. My typical day includes lifeguarding in the mornings, then teaching surf lessons in the afternoon to the fucking ungrateful Kooks that can afford it. Not that any of my hard work is ever noticed, though...

See, nowadays, the looming divorce of my parents seems to hang over me like a black cloud. Our little house near the lifeguard tower has practically been a war zone over the last nine months, so it should come as no surprise that I tend to spend nights curled up on John B's living room couch. But hey, like my dad always says, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

And that's where this story starts: John B's dad is missing, our summer vacation is right around the corner, and my parents couldn't give less of a fuck about me if they tried.

"Alright," called John B, as he finally pulled the Twinkie into a driveway of the local surf shop, The White Shark, that was located next to the beach. He turned towards the twins, laughing, "Go on, get out."

"Dick," said Nick jokingly, but he still gave his best friend a handshake before opening the van's sliding door and jumping out onto the sand. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, though, yeah?"

"Ugh," Kiara groaned, laughing slightly as she gave Olivia a hug. "Don't flatter yourself, Nicky."

Nick rolled his eyes playfully, extending a hand to help

"I know you love me, Kie."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off.

"See you guys later," Olivia waved and blew a kiss at the rest of her friends. "We'll meet you back at the Chateau," she added, referring to John B's old shack on the marsh.

"Have fun with the Kooks," JJ tease, winking at the twins. "Maybe you can teach them a thing or two, if you know what I mean."

The Warren siblings shared a laugh in spite of themselves, shaking their heads simultaneously. Then, as the passenger seat window rolled down, Pope stuck his right hand out towards Nick, just as JJ pulled the Twinkie's back sliding door closed once again.

"Woogity, woogity, woogity?"

"Woogity, woogity, baby," said Nick, smiling, as he and Pope wiggled their fingers together in a high-five of sorts handshake.

With one final wave, the twins watched the Twinkie pull off down the road before they turned and walked up the steps of the surf shop, playfully nudging each other along the way.

Nick and Olivia passed through the entrance of their parents' surf shop, a quiet jingle alerting the entire shop of their presence. The customers inside looked up at the sound, waving once they realized who it was – the two Warren twins were fairly well-known amongst the community, all thanks to the fact that their parents had lived in the OBX since long before they were born.

The twins walked up to the front counter, and Olivia placed her bag next to the register as an older man in his mid-forties emerged through the door that, Nick knew well to believe, led to the back office. He brushed through a doorway of beaded curtains as he entered, a chime echoing along with his appearance.

Nick and Olivia's father, Daniel, had appeared behind the register. He shared quite the striking resemblance to his son, with the same messy, dark-brown hair and sun-kissed tan; the only difference was that of the elder's bushy overgrown beard.

"You're late," said Daniel nonchalantly, the corners of his brown eyes crinkling as he took in the sight of his children.

Nick kinked a curious eyebrow, his gaze shifting down towards the watch on his wrist, and then, he said, "Our shift doesn't start for another five minutes."

"If anything," Olivia started, smiling lightheartedly, "this is the earliest we've been in months."

"Besides," Nick pressed on, "what're you even doing here? I thought mom was running the shop today."

"She got caught up," Daniel told them, heaving a heavy sigh. As Olivia opened her mouth with the intent of questioning her father, he cleared his throat, and added: "Nick, your first lesson starts in five minutes. Get dressed and grab your training board, won't you? The Camerons are already waiting for you down at the beach."

His eyes widening, Nick glanced towards his sister, who reflected his look of confusion right back at him. Unable to help himself, the Warren boy let out a loud laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, which earned a stern look from his father immediately.

"Sorry, I thought you said –"

"– the Camerons. Yes, that is exactly what I said," Daniel deadpanned, unamused. "See, Ward is hoping you can teach his youngest daughter how to surf."

Olivia giggled under her breath. "You're so fucked," she whispered, patting her brother pitifully on his shoulder.

"You can't be serious," said Nick incredulously, ignoring her as his gaze never shifted from his father. "Why can't Liv do it?"

Olivia laughed at him some more, "Hard pass."

Daniel sighed. "You and I both know Olivia doesn't play nice when it comes to the Camerons," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Besides, she has lessons of her own, too. So off you go, kid. The quicker you get started, the sooner it'll be over."

With a huff of annoyance, Nick cursed under his breath before he jumped over the front counter and went into the back room to change. It was another ten minutes before he'd chosen his appropriate attire for the surfing lesson. He carried a few boards in from the outside and grabbed the keys to his family's rundown blue Ford '71 Bronco, before heading out the door into the blistering heat of the sun.

(A/N: visual reference!)

After attaching his and Olivia's surfboards to the roof of the car, Nick sat in the driver's seat and honked the horn multiple times. "Liv, let's go!" he called out.

Seconds later, Olivia came skipping out of the shop, wearing her bathing suit under a simple beach cover-up. Pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes, she placed a tub of surfboard wax and her bag into the tailgate before sitting down in the passenger's seat.

Beside him, Nick could feel his sister's amused gaze burning into the side of his face, so as he stuck the key into the ignition, he growled, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," quipped Olivia, and with that, she turned up the radio as the engine and, more importantly, the air conditioning came to life.

They rode in silence down to the beach, which was located on the border between the Cut and Figure 8, and it wasn't long until they pulled up onto the sand, parking next to the infamous lifeguard tower.

"Let's get this over with," Nick sighed.

He stepped out of the truck and gathered his things. It was a beautiful day at the beach with the sun shining down, the waves crashing onto the shore. The smell of the salty sea air filled Nick's nostrils, and just for a moment, he'd forgotten that the most dreadful part of his day was soon approaching.

"There you are!" came a distant incredulous shriek. "We've been waiting for you for over twenty minutes!"

Olivia's scoff was almost instantaneous. "Sorry to keep the princess waiting," she mumbled quietly.

Squinting through the rays of sunlight reflecting off the sand, Nick looked up to see an attractive young female in front of him, wearing a pearl white beach cover over a flaming red bikini. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, though the ends of her wavy blonde locks tickled her shoulders. It was impossible, Nick had to admit, to tear his eyes away from her.

Meet Sarah Cameron, the Kook princess. Olivia and Kiara's best friend in the ninth grade, worst enemy in the tenth grade. Her and I hooked up once at a party a long time ago, so that'll probably explain why my sister and her don't get along all that well.

The thing about Sarah Cameron is that she'll chew you up and spit you out as fast as she can swipe her daddy's credit card. But hey, I can't really blame her. It was either me or her inherited trust fund, and I'd know what I'd choose if the roles were reversed. Her guilt eats her alive, I'm sure, but it's not her fault that she was born lucky...

"What're you even doing here, Sarah?" Nick groaned, pulling a t-shirt over his head. "I thought the lesson was for your sister."

"It is! Wheezie's keeping our spot on the beach," said Sarah, trying desperately not to roll her eyes at the sight of Olivia. "My dad asked me to come and watch her. I didn't want to, but here we are..."

"Quite a backbone you have, then," said Nick sarcastically, taking his surfboard under his arm. "Good for you, princess."

Sarah's glare shifted, her eyes landing upon Nick.

"Don't call me that."

"What, do you prefer heiress? Or is it debutante?"

"Just get on with the surfing lessons, okay?" said Sarah firmly, her lips pursed. "I'm supposed to have Wheezie home by dinner."

Nick laughed again. "Right away, your highness," he hissed, brushing right past her in the direction of the water. He turned around after a moment, walking backwards, and yelled: "Liv, I'll meet you back here!"

And with a simple wave towards her twin brother, Olivia walked down the opposite side of the beach, disappearing amongst the crowd of surfers and those who currently relaxed on the sand.

"Hey, Wheeze," Nick called out, as he approached the youngest member of the Cameron family, who was lying down across a striped towel. "Ready for your surf lesson?"

"Nice of you to show up, Warren," the girl responded, and Wheezie jumped to her feet just as Sarah rejoined them on the sand. "Let's get started..."

Meet Sarah's younger sister, Louise, or Wheezie, as everyone likes to call her. She's only fourteen, but you wouldn't know it by the way she acts. Hell, she comes toe-to-toe with me when it comes to sarcasm.

If you want to know anything about anyone, Wheezie is your go-to for information. It probably gets her into a lot of trouble, but hey, what's a younger sibling good for if not for butting into the lives of others?

"We're going to work on your stance a bit before we go and hit some waves, okay?" Nick instructed, earning a nod in response from Wheezie. He dropped his surfboard onto the sand, adding: "Here, lay down on your stomach. Out in the water, you'll use your hands to paddle as fast as you can, then you'll engage your core and —"

He trailed off as a group of loud, giggling teenage girls trampled onto the sand in front of him. They waved and winked in his direction flirtatiously. Then, together, they whistled: "Looking good, Nick!"

Nick waved at them politely.

"Hey –" he started.

"We're paying you to teach," Sarah quipped from behind him, her teeth gritting in frustration. "Not to flirt with random strangers."

"I'd hardly consider that flirting," Nick shrugged at her, ignoring the group of girls as they moved down the beach. "But hey, I never pegged you as the jealous type, Sarah Cameron."

"Jealous of what exactly? You and those girls?" Sarah laughed bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I have a boyfriend, remember –"

"Yeah, well, that's never stopped you before," Nick said, without thinking.

It was a dangerous topic of discussion, their night together. But Nick couldn't help but smirk when Sarah fell silent, her cheeks flushing, as she slowly processed what had come out of the Warren boy's mouth. They couldn't talk about it. They wouldn't...

"Can we get back to the lesson, please?" asked Wheezie uncomfortably, pulling herself up off the surfboard. But Sarah had yet to move, or react. She stood there, with her arms crossed and lips pursued, just simply glaring at the side of the boy's smug face.

"Of course," Nick shifted his attention back to the youngest Cameron, thankful for the distraction. "Right, so as I was saying..."

For two straight hours of demonstration, helping and practicing, Nick finally finished the session and managed to make his way towards the outdoor showers to wash the sticking sand from his body. He shuddered as the warm water poured down on him, running down his bare torso until it reached the drain below his feet. His wet hair matted to his face, and as he went to shut the shower off, he felt the eyes of a certain someone burning into the back of his head.

"Hey," came the sound of a familiar voice, and Nick finally slicked back his hair to meet the gaze of Sarah Cameron once more. "So I know we didn't really talk about payment, but my dad thinks this should cover it," she said awkwardly, offering him a wad of cash. "If not, just let me know —"

"I usually don't get paid until the very end," Nick interrupted, "because it's normally based on the amount of progress the client makes."

"Yeah, well," Sarah shoved the money into his hands, "consider this an incentive for future progress."

"Right, thanks," Nick mumbled, brandishing the cash out in front of her again. "I'll be sure to spend it on something fancy, just as I'm sure you've intended."

Sarah rolled her eyes at him, but Nick could've sworn he saw the faintest hint of a smile curl upon her lips. With her bottom lip between her teeth, she eyed him up and down once more before turning on her heels, readying herself to leave. Sarah only took a few steps, though, before she turned back around, ringing her hands out nervously.

"Nick," she called his name again, and the boy cocked an eyebrow in her direction. Sarah looked around slightly and dropped her voice to a whisper, "Listen, about earlier –"

"What about it?" Nick asked sarcastically, his infamous smirk appearing on his lips. "Should I not have brought up our secret little fling last summer?"

Sarah's mouth fell open, her cheeks reddening to a bright pink. "Oh my god," she groaned. "You're such an ass."

"Oh, come on, it was too good for you to be this hostile," said Nick, laughing cockily. "By the way, that's no way to talk about your new friend, princess."

"Friend?" Sarah questioned, challenging. "Is that what we are now?"

"Well, Sarah Cameron," Nick started lowly, taking a dangerous step towards her. "If we're not friends, what exactly would you like us to be?"

And although he was a cocky, arrogant Pogue, Sarah couldn't help but smile at his advances, her heart pounding unexpectedly in her chest. Instead of making this known to Nick, however, she gave him a playful shove backward, and yelled, "You are unbelievable!"

"And you still haven't answered my question –"

"Because it was a stupid question!"

"One that you refused to answer," Nick hummed, his smile widening victoriously. "Why? Scared your boyfriend might find out?"

"Shut up," Sarah hissed, trying to hide the fact that her face had fallen in spite of herself.

Nick gave up, his hands raised in a mock surrender.

"Whatever you say, Sarah Cameron."

And without waiting for a response, Nick brushed past Sarah again and trekked back towards his truck, where he found his sister was already leaning against the hood. As he drew closer, the twins looked at each other for a long moment.

With her eyes narrowed in suspicion, Olivia nodded her head towards the fleeting silhouette of Sarah Cameron, just over her brother's shoulder. "What was that about?" she asked, without missing a beat.

"Payment," Nick lied, unsure as to why he felt the need to, and he quickly held up the wad of cash between his fingers. "Don't worry about it..."

── • ──

A short while later, the Warren twins pulled into the driveway of their little two-bedroom house, which was located down the road from the lifeguard tower. The sun had began to set over the horizon, and as beautiful as it was to witness, the scene was soon interrupted as the bickering sounds of Daniel and Natalie Warren grew louder beyond the front door.

"I can't believe you're getting our children mixed up in all of this now!"

"You don't understand, Tali! I'm doing this in order to protect them!"

"Protecting them how, exactly? By involving them with that family? We agreed months ago that we'd sever ties —"

"You don't understand — !"

"That's all you ever say anymore!"

"They're going at it again," whispered Olivia, running her hands down her face. "God, don't they realize we have neighbours?"

"Apparently not," said Nick lowly, his jaw clenching. He started the ignition again without realizing it, then added, "Look, I'm sorry but I can't stay here. There's no way I'm dealing with this shit every night. Would you be okay if I went and crashed at John B's?"

Olivia sighed, her eyes surveying her brother carefully. "Just feed me to the sharks next time, yeah?" she said playfully, stepping out of the car. "It'll be a lot easier."

"Come on," Nick laughed, "you know I love you too much to do that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you tomorrow," Olivia waved him off. "Don't miss me too much while I'm gone, though, yeah?" she used his words earlier against him, mimicking him with a fairly accurate impression.

"You're such an idiot." Nick told her, with a shake of his head, though he couldn't help but laugh himself. "Oh, and Liv?" he said. "Thanks for covering for me."

"You'd do the same for me," Olivia smiled widely, then waved again. "Bye loser, love you!"

And without waiting for a response, Olivia rushed inside, her presence immediately silencing the on-going fight between their parents. Moving quickly, Nick backed out of the driveway and sped off down the main road before his parents could come outside.

The radio blared as he drove, and without realizing it before it was too late, the sky began to darken over the horizon. Lightning seemed to spark out of nowhere, illuminating anything that was visible under the thunderous black clouds for a few brief seconds. On an impulse, Nick drove faster, going way above the speed limit in pursuit of the marsh.

"Hurricane Agatha continues its steady march towards Kildare Island," reported the news station on the radio, "on the Outer Banks of North Carolina."

With a sharp left turn, Nick turned down towards the dock, driving passed the chaos. Through the windows, however, he could see many of the Cut's residents in the midst of storm preparation. Most of them were carrying supplies in from the bait shack, or tying their boats to the dock as tightly as possible.

Then, just as the downpour of wind and rain began to thrash against his car's front window, Nick finally pulled into the familiar driveway of John B's shack on the edge of the marsh. He quickly took the keys out of the ignition, grabbed his things from the back, and bolted through the rain towards the front door.

With two loud thumps, the door swung open to reveal a startled looking JJ, who then clutched at his chest and stepped aside to let his friend in the house.

"You been outside?" Nick asked, shaking the water out of his hair as the door closed behind him. "It's crazy out there."

"I have polio, bro," said JJ jokingly, plopping himself down on the couch in the living room. "I can't walk."

"Right," Nick went into the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer from the fridge. He took a swig before asking, "So where's John B?"

"Dunno," JJ yawned. "He said he'd be back, but didn't say where he was going."

"Fuck, man," Nick cursed, looking out at the storm through a window. "Let's just hope he's alright..."

── • ──

The morning after Hurricane Agatha came much sooner than expected, and Nick awoke to the sound of the seabirds twittering contently. He'd fallen asleep in the lounge chair next to JJ, though he'd meant to wait up for John B.

Blinking in his surroundings, Nick noticed that the windows were beaded with small water droplets. The lights had since extinguished, indicating that there was no power or service left in the old shack on the marsh. "Fuck," he cursed, pulling himself to his feet.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," greeted the familiar voice of John B, and Nick looked up wide-eyed to see his best friend in the doorway. "When did you get here?"

"Late last night," Nick replied, through a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Around nine," said John B quietly, peering out a window to see the damage of the hurricane. "Go and get dressed, will you? I want to see what Agatha's done to my front yard."

"Alright, alright," Nick muttered, quickly throwing on a pair of swim trunks and an unbuttoned shirt. "God, you're worse than an alarm clock."

And as John B clambered out onto his front porch, Nick pulled on a pair of shoes and woke up a snoring JJ, who had sprawled out on the couch.

Minutes later, the two of them pushed through the front door after John B, gaping at the disastrous display of damage inflicted on the marsh. The front yard of the Chateau was normally a maritime junkyard, complete with old boats and rusting trailers, but after the hurricane, it was barely recognizable. The nearby shack was overturned, and several trees had fallen down, their palms denuded.

"Damn," Nick whistled, his eyes wide. "It looks like fucking war zone out here."

"Agatha did some work, huh?" asked JJ rhetorically, leaning up against the nearby support beam. He looked towards John B, who was pulling palm leaves off of his boat, and asked, "What're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that storm surge pushed all the crabs out on the marsh maze," replied John B, cocking his head back. "All those drum are gonna chase the crab."

JJ furrowed his brows. "What about the DCS?" he asked. "Wasn't that today?"

Oh, forget to mention earlier, but since John B technically doesn't have a legal guardian anymore, his social worker has been threatening foster care. The DCS were supposed to come to the OBX for an assessment this morning, but it seems that Hurricane Agatha had other plans...

"Nah, there's no way they're getting on a ferry in this weather," John B grinned happily. "Come on, think about it. This is God telling us to fish..."

The hour passed in a blinded haze, and Nick, John B, and JJ found themselves sailing through the water on an older model of a Carolina Skiff boat, also known as the HMS Pogue. They cruised through a commercial waterfront lined with fish shacks, seafood restaurants, and shopping outfitters. The pervasive storm damage was impossible to ignore, for it filled the marina with a horrendous amount of pollution.

"Dude, look at this place," John B whistled, steering the boat through the marina slowly. "Agatha, what did you do?"

"Fuck, man," cursed JJ, his face scrunched in disgust. "We'll be cleaning this all summer."

"That's my nightmare," John B grimaced.

"Morning, Miss Amy," Nick greeted an attractive middle-aged woman with a wave as they passed by a nearby dock. "You guys get through it?"

Miss Amy smiled as the Pogues passed by, "Still here."

"She's so hot," JJ awed in a whisper. "I swear she looked at me, bro."

John B laughed, then said, "I saw it."

The Pogues slowed their boat along the dock belonging to Heyward's Seafood, and Pope quickly came into view. He was cleaning the debris that had brushed up onto the property, spraying it down with a green gardenhose.

"Well, look who we have here," JJ called, making their presence known, and Pope immediately looked up.

"Aggie's a real bitch, eh?" Nick asked jokingly, with a little nod. "I hope she didn't fuck you up too bad."

"We have a safety meeting," John B told him, speaking into the boat's radio. "Attendance mandatory."

"I can't," Pope whispered, looking over his shoulder cautiously. "My pop's got me on lockdown."

"Come on, man," groaned JJ, and then he spoke into his shoulder, mimicking the sound of the radio's static. "Your dad's a pussy, over."

"Oh, I heard that, you little bastard," came the angered voice of Pope's fishmonger father, Heyward, as he came down the dock with a broom in his hand.

"We need your son," insisted John B.

"Yeah, and island rules," Nick started, with a wink towards the middle-aged man. "Day after a hurricane's a free day."

Heyward narrowed his eyes, then asked, "And who in the hell made that up?"

"The Pentagon, I think," JJ pondered for a moment, stroking his nonexistent chin hair. "We have security clearance, and I have a card," he added sarcastically, clutching at the pockets of his cargo shorts.

"You think I'm stupid?" scoffed Heyward, leaning against the broom. "I was young once, too, you know."

"Yeah," began Nick, his lips curling into a smirk, "but times must've changed since then, you old dinosaur. I mean, you had hieroglyphics and we have emojis —"

"Call me that again, kid," Heyward warned. "I'll make you wish you were never born, you hear me?"

"Get in the boat," John B whispered to Pope, pulling the boat closer to the dock as Nick kept Heyward busy.

"Make a run for it," JJ encouraged lowly, beckoning him over.

"Careful, boys," Nick let out a laugh under his breath. "Looks like the dinosaur's about to let out a mighty roar –"

And as Heyward made to swipe at Nick's head with the dust broom, his son dropped the hose in his hands and jumped onto the boat with his friends.

"I'm sorry, dad," Pope pleaded, as the boat sped off in the water. "I promise I'll do it tomorrow! I promise!"

"You bring your ass back here!" Heyward shouted angrily after them. "Hell no! I swear to God, Pope, I'll make you clean shrimp, clean fish! I'll make you clean your dirty ass room!"

"Don't worry," John B called back to him, "we'll bring him back in one piece!"

"Love you, Pops!" Pope shouted, waving.

Heyward merely shook his head, yelling, "I don't like your friends!"

"Total bullshit," Nick scoffed, with a hint of sarcasm, "I know he loves me, it's just deep down."

And the four boys shared a laugh together, cruising through the marina until they headed out of the creek towards the open water. Then, as a few minutes passed, the boat pulled up against another dock, on which both Kiara and Olivia stood, waiting, holding opposite sides of a large blue cooler.

"Morning, boys," greeted Olivia, as she and Kiara stepped onto the boat while it was still moving, setting the cooler down with its muted clanking.

"Top o' the mornin' to ya," said JJ, in a weird accent.

John B waved, "Morning."

"What're you doing here?" asked Nick, looking at his sister with a confused look. "I thought you were at home."

"I was," replied Olivia, "but I asked dad to drop me off before he went to the surf shop."

"It worked out perfectly," Kiara beamed, clapping her hand excitedly. "Liv helped me pack the snacks."

"Speaking of," Pope looked at the cooler, "whatcha got? You got some juice boxes?"

"You know," said Kiara, taking the lid off. "We just brought some yogurts and carrot sticks."

"How about my kind of juice box?" asked JJ, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, as Kiara pulled out a beer bottle and handed it to him. "Cheers," he grinned, twisting the top off. "Most important meal of the day."

As John B gunned the engine into the estuary, the other five Pogues took a beer and clinked them together. Nick removed the bottle cap with his teeth, eyeing a pompous elderly man glaring at them from the shoreline. He was hand-drying his yacht with a white towel, a no wake sign on display in the channel.

"Salty codger," muttered Nick, "two o'clock."

"Gun it, John B," Olivia encouraged, their eyes meeting. "Show him what we think of his sign."

The boat sped off at Olivia's command, and the elderly man began to holler inaudible protests across the water in response. The local teenagers jokingly waved as they passed, while the man continued to scowl at them, and soon enough, they were cruising through the marsh once again. Shortly after, John B switched places with Pope before he casted a fishing net into the marsh, hoping to catch some crabs; Pope continued to drive the boat forward, idling.

"Hey, look at this," said JJ after awhile, and he moved to the bow of the boat. "I've been practicing."

"It's not going to work," John B sighed, understanding what was about to happen.

Nick chuckled lightly, and whispered, "It never does."

"Faster," JJ signalled to Pope, and he lifted his beer bottle into the air as though suggesting that the wind would blow the contents into his mouth. "I've got it."

"You're getting beer in my hair!" shrieked Kiara.

But as Pope accelerated, and the salt grass and trees blasted passed them, the boat suddenly lurched to a violent stop. The impact threw JJ off of the bow of the boat, sending him cartwheeling into the water with a huge splash. In similar fashion, Nick, Olivia, John B, Pope, and Kiara slammed onto the deck, and as they started to sprawl, the engine sputtered back into life.

"Shit," Nick groaned, rubbing the back of his head, as he tried to stand slowly. "What the fuck was that?"

"Damn it," John B cursed out loud, moving to help Olivia to her feet without hesitation. "You okay?"

"Yeah, all things considered," the young girl managed, holding onto John B for support.

"Damn it, Pope," said Kiara, with a breathy laugh, as she began to pick up the cooler that had tipped ice and beer all over the deck. "What'd you do?"

Pope stood straight, sighing, "Hit a sandbar. The channel's changed."

"The surge must've been huge back here," said Nick matter-of-factly, and then he made his way over the bow of the boat to see JJ on his back in the water, groaning. "You good, man? You need CPR?" he asked.

"Only if Liv or Kie does the mouth-to-mouth part," JJ laughed, slowly paddling back to the boat. "But I swear to God, bro, I think my heels touched the back of my head — I saved the beer, though!"

"Atta boy!" Nick laughed before helping JJ back onto the deck, pulling him over the railing with one hand. "Good to know you've got your priorities in check."

"Damn straight, dude —"

"Guys," said Pope anxiously, standing by the boat's stern. "I think there's a boat down there."

"What?" Kiara gasped, and the others quickly rushed over for a closer look. "Shut up! There's no way."

"No, no, I'm serious," Pope insisted, pointing. "That's definitely a boat."

And sure enough, as Nick squinted his eyes to see through the murky water, he spotted a large white outline of a boat that was sunken deep in the water. "Holy shit," he gasped. "I can't believe it."

"Guys," John B took a step back in disbelief, "this is crazy."

"Let's go," said Kiara quickly, stripping down to her bathing suit. "We need to get a closer look."

"Wait," Pope panicked, overthinking. "What if there's a dead body down there?"

"If there is, we've got to check," Olivia stated, and she was the first one to jump into the water. "Come on," she called, "you pussies got anything better to do?"

And with a shared look of determination, there was a moment of silence before Nick, John B, Kiara, and JJ each dived into the water simultaneously. They completely submerged their heads under the surface, adjusting to the abrupt coldness, before they swam after Olivia.

"Guys, wait up!" shouted Pope, but his friends had already began to swim over to the area above the shipwreck.

JJ snapped his head backwards as he paddled.

"Get your ass in here, Pope!"

"Coming!" the Heyward boy yelled, and with a loud splash, he too had joined his friends in the freezing cold waters of the marsh.

Once they all met up together again in the same area, they let themselves sink towards the depths of the water. Being the fastest swimmer, Nick reached the shipwreck the first, gliding past three outboard engines, as he took in the entire sight of the deep sunken sea sport-fisher boat with a cabin. He swam the length of it, and only when he ran out of air did he scramble for the surface along with the others. The Pogues resurfaced together, gasping for breath.

"Did you guys see that?" asked Nick, holding himself afloat.

"Yeah," said Pope, panting.

"Yeah, I did," John B spluttered, paddling his way back towards the boat; the others quickly swam after him.

"That's definitely a Grady-White," JJ exclaimed in-between breaths. "One of those is like 500 Gs, easy. It's a primo rig, man."

John B reached the HMS Pogue boat first, pulling himself up, and then lowered a helping hand towards his friends. They each flopped on the deck like a group of fish out of water, trying to catch their breaths as the scorching sun shined down on them.

"That's the boat I saw when I surfed the surge yesterday," said John B abruptly, his eyes focused upon the shipwreck. "Maybe it hit a jetty or something."

"You surfed the surge?" Olivia repeated in disbelief, looking worried. "Are you insane?"

"No, he's a Pogue," Nick corrected, smiling proudly at his best friend. He moved over and swung an arm over John B's shoulders. "Fucking A, that's my boy!"

"Pogue-style," JJ cheered. "I love it!"

"What is wrong with you two, exactly?" asked Kiara, her eyes shifting between JJ and Nick sternly.

"Do you seriously want the answer to that question?"

"Is there even an answer — ?"

"Guys, focus!" said Pope firmly, his mind racing. "Do we know who's boat that is?"

John B shook his head, muttering, "No, but we're about to find out," and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulled the anchor from the cargo-hold.

"No way, man," JJ waved him off. "It's too deep."

"For the weak and feeble, maybe," John B winked at him, and he walked to the bow of the boat once more, climbing over the railing.

"John B," Olivia warned.

But John B was quick to reassure her. "I'll be fine," he said.

"Whatever you say," Nick shook his head, his hands raised in surrender. "But just to be clear, I'm not resuscitating you if shit doesn't go according to plan."

"That's comforting, thank you," said John B sarcastically. "Glad to know I can count on you, Nikolai."

"This is crazy," Kiara muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Pope raised his hand in salut, "Diver down, fool."

John B laughed, reciprocating.

"Diver down."

"Yeah, he is!" JJ grinned mischievously, and without a forewarning, he pushed John B over the edge of the boat with the anchor, earning an immediate grunt from John B before he sunk below the water.

"JJ!" Olivia shrieked, swatting his arm. "Be careful, for fucks sake!"

"He'll be fine," JJ groaned. "Relax, wonder twin."

"You think so?" Nick asked, looking towards the shipwreck from the deck above. It had only been a minute since John B submerged, but that didn't stop each of the five remaining Pogues from glancing over the edge of the boat with a look of undeniable worry.

After a few more minutes, Pope cleared his throat, then said, "Should we go get him?"

"Yeah, probably —"

But just as all hope seemed to be lost, John B resurfaced, coughing up the water that threatened to fill his lungs. With help from JJ and Nick, he pulled himself back onto the HMS Pogue again, only this time he seemed to be completely out of breath.

"Oh, my God," Kiara gaped at him. "That took forever!"

"So," Pope urged on, looking at the boy in question, "any dead bodies?"

Unable to speak, John B shook his head.

"Looting potential, maybe?" JJ asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"J-Just this," sputtered John B, and he held out a rusted motel room key attached to a green tag.

"Great!" JJ groaned, looking disappointed. "We salvaged a motel key."

With one last look at the shimmering reflection of the sunken boat in the depths of the water, Nick crossed the deck and took over on the helm, steering the HMS Pogue back through the marsh.

"We should report the wreck to the coastguard," suggested Kiara. "Maybe we'll get a finder's fee."

"Yeah, and hopefully not have to work all summer,"
JJ agreed, and he grinned as he picked up a lone beer bottle lolling around on the deck. He twisted the cap off and raised it the sky, adding, "Thanks, Agatha, you bitch."

And as the boat kicked into gear and motored off, the group of tight-knit teenagers made seemingly made no acknowledgment of the dead body floating some yards away from them, caught in the tall grass...

── • ──

Half an hour later, the Pogues pulled up alongside another dock, and JJ hopped out and tied the boat between two coastguard vessels. The outline of the town could be seen from the water, and as far as Nick could see, it looked like Amity Island met Nantucket. There were boarded up shops, rundown cars and boats, and surfers with skateboards loitering on the steps of the post office.

Without paying much attention, Nick, JJ, and John B jumped off the HMS Pogue and piled into the coastguard station. It was absolute chaos inside; the residents of the Outer Banks had swarmed the front desk, shouting and jostling. The power was still out, and this very fact seemed to leave the town rattled.

"I pay my taxes!" shouted an annoyed salty codger. "If the bridges aren't repaired, how are we supposed to make money?"

"I'm missing my briard!" shrieked a distressed dog owner. "Please, he's a diabetic!"

"Canine diabetes," said Nick under his breath, looking to JJ. "Is that even a thing?"

"Stupid thing to come to coastguard for," JJ leaned on Nick's shoulder and laughed. "It's a fucking dog."

"Excuse me, officer," John B edged through the crowd of angry adults, though the seaman at the front desk merely held up a finger in silence. "Hey, man, we... we found a boat."

"Gimme a minute," hushed the seaman, and he picked up the ringing landline and wrote something down. "Interdiction," he said into the phone. "Yeah, got it."

"Please find my dog!" cried the dog owner, and the rest of the crowd erupted into protests as the seaman hung up the phone. "This is important!"

"Come on, man," John B tried again, "you're going to want to hear this."

"Hey, kid," spat the salty codger, "if you have a request, you need to wait in line! Damn kids. They think the world owes them, I swear."

"You got a problem, Kook?" shouted JJ angrily, trying to lunge through the crowd, but Nick was quick to grab hold of his friend's arm.

"Calm down," instructed the seaman, pointing a finger. He looked to John B, then said, "We're not worried about your boat right now, okay?"

John B, JJ, and Nick shared a look, and they each began to shuffle towards the door, rolling their eyes as they passed the crowd of needy Outer Banks residents. They walked back outside and quickly rejoined Olivia, Kiara, and Pope on the sidewalk of coastguard station.

Nick sighed, "That went well."

"Even if there was a reward," JJ started, with the hint of aggression in his voice, "those bastards wouldn't give it to us."

"So what's the plan?" asked Kiara, looking between her friends.

John B held up the motel key from the wreck.

"I know how we could find out who owns that boat."

"No way, man," Pope shook his head immediately, understanding what his friend was suggesting. "We don't know who's room that is... it could be anyone."

"That's what makes it interesting," Olivia stated obviously, and she took the motel key from John B before walking back towards the boat. "Come on, Pope," she added with a pout. "Me, you, and Kie can be lookout."

"Alright, fine," sighed Kiara, giving in.

JJ beamed, looking excited, "Oh, hell yeah! I'm in."

"Me too," said Nick wistfully, and as they made to walk after Olivia, he swung an arm over Pope's shoulder. "Come on, bubba," he teased. "This way you're only an accomplice."

And with a reluctant sigh, Pope clambered back onto the boat with the others. With John B at the helm, they peeled off into the estuary once again, and soon enough, they pulled alongside the shore of the rundown motel. The impact of the hurricane was remarkable; the motel sign was tilting to one side and the parking lot was littered with moldy mattresses.

"Damn," JJ whistled, "and I thought the Chateau looked bad."

Olivia scrunched her face, looking disgusted.

"This place is a shitshow."

"Motel or meth lad?" asked Kiara sarcastically.

"You be the judge," said Pope awkwardly.

"But preferably both," Nick laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

"Doesn't look like a place that someone with a Grady-White would stay, does it?" asked John B, and he steered the HMS Pogue onto the shore. Without hesitation, JJ jumped out and tied the bow to a tree.

"No, it looks like a place someone with a Grady-White would get killed," retorted Pope, and he watched as Nick and John B went to follow after their blond friend. "Hey," he yelled after them, "don't let JJ do anything stupid, okay?"

"I'm not making any promises," said John B, with a grimace. "He's a loose cannon."

"Yeah," Nick laughed, "have you met him?"

"I heard that, you dick," said JJ playfully, and he shoved Nick on the way up towards the motel.

"Wait," Olivia called out, and she reached out for John B's hand at the last second. "Be careful, yeah?"

"Of c-course," John B stuttered, blushing.

"Fuck me, I guess," Nick scoffed jokingly. "I'll just go ahead and die up there, then. It's not I'm your brother or anything."

"Yeah, but she could have plenty of those, there's only one John B," JJ grinned mischievously at his friend.

Nick slapped him on the shoulder in response.

"Shut up, JJ."

"You're so dramatic," Olivia told her brother, shaking her head.

As he opened his mouth to retort, however, Nick felt the warm lips of Kiara land upon his cheek. Her left hand had cupped his face, rendering him motionless.

"You be careful, too," Kiara said lowly, as though it was an everyday conversation, and her voice sent shivers down Nick's spine. "All of you."

"R-Right," Nick stuttered, and he quickly turned on his heels and led the way towards the abandoned parking lot. "Let's go."

In utter silence, John B, Nick, and JJ walked through the open air breezeways. They climbed the staircase and began checking the room numbers on the second floor. They walked passed several doors and a broken, leaking ice machine before JJ finally spoke up in a high-pitched voice.

"Just be so careful," the blonde boy mocked, grabbing at Nick's face and making kissing noises. "What was that about?"

"Maybe they just want us to be careful," John B dismissed him, annoyed. "Don't make it weird, dude."

"Oh, come on," JJ pressed on. "Since Liv heard you're being threatened with exile, she's been, like, 'Be so careful, John B. Oh, give me that John D already!'"

"Knock it off," John B groaned, walking faster down the hallway.

"Fuck, man," Nick pushed JJ off of him. "That's my sister, so shut up."

"So tell me what the deal is with you and Kie, then," JJ shifted his attention to Nick, smirking. "Come on, man, she's practically begging for that legendary Nick dick. When are you going to swoop on that?"

"Bro, you know the rule," Nick huffed, ruffling his hair exasperatedly. "No Pogue-on-Pogue macking."

"Besides," John B piped up, turning the attention onto JJ, "you're the one who's always hitting on them."

"Of course I'm hitting on them," JJ laughed. "Kie's a super hot, rich, hippie chick slumming with us. Why? I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro! And as for Liv, and I mean no offence Nick, but she may just very well be the feisty little firecracker I need in my life. She's got a spunk, man, and I'm into that. But hey, I know I know that door's locked because I've tried it."

"Have you?" asked Nick, his protective brotherly instincts coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Not like that," JJ defended himself, his hands raised in surrender. "You know what I mean."

"You need help," said John B seriously, his eyes narrowing upon JJ. "Not a little help, you need a lot of help. It's like every girl who just has a heartbeat, you're like... 'Uhh!'" he joked, thrusting his hips into the air.

"You both have a serious problem," Nick muttered, and before either of his friends could respond, he stopped abruptly and pointed towards the number on the motel room door. "This is the one."

"He's right," John B looked at the key once more. "It says room number twenty-nine."

"Okay, okay," whispered JJ, and he pushed the others out of the way before rapping on the door lightly. He cleared his throat, then mimicked a high-pitched feminine voice, yelling, "Housekeeping!"

Moments of silence passed; nobody came to the door.

"No persona aqui," said Nick jokingly. "Thank fuck for that."

John B slid the key into the door, and as he went to turn it, he noticed the rundown security camera down the hallway.

"Should we do it?"

"No power. No security cameras," muttered JJ, shrugging, his tone certain. "Why wouldn't we?"

"I want to but I'm afraid," said John B sarcastically, pausing for dramatic effect.

"You're right," Nick went along with the joke, feigning a look of panic. "If we walk through that door, we'll be walking into a world of trouble."

JJ slapped them both on the back of the head.

"Just turn the fucking key."

And with a laugh, John B obliged and open the door to the dark motel room, the sun blocked by the pulled shades. The three boys closed the door behind them, though Nick took a moment to observe the room in its entirety. The bed was made, untouched; there were two duffel bags littering the carpet floor, their contents currently unknown.

"Check the bags," Nick instructed his friends. "See if there's a name on there somewhere."

"Just a jacket, here," sighed JJ, rustling through the first duffel bag. "It's nice, though. But fuck, no name."

"Nothing here, either," groaned John B, holding up an old pair of shoes found in the second bag. "He's definitely over fifty, though... these are New Balances."

They kept searching for clues, opening cabinet drawers and checking behind furniture. Nick crossed the room towards the wooden desk in the corner, illuminating his path with the light on his phone, and found the surface of it covered by a nautical map with coordinates written in pencil.

"Yo, dude, come here," he called to John B. "Maybe this is where they were fishing."

"Let me see," said John B quickly, his eyes grazing over the map. "No, that's off the continental shelf. That's Big Swell. Nobody fishes there."

"Damn," Nick cursed, and he cocked his head back towards JJ, who'd ventured into the bathroom. "You find anything?"

JJ stuck his head out the door, grinning.

"Just an awesome dopp kit you won't let me steal."

"Yeah, 'cause we're not stealing shit," scolded John B, eyeing the half-closed closet door in the opposite corner. He crossed the room and slid the door open to reveal the room's private safe. He kneeled down, punching combinations into the safe's keyboard, hoping for the best outcome. "One, one, one, one, two," he muttered under his breath.

"Punching shit in at random?" said JJ sarcastically, coming out of the bathroom. "Yeah, because that'll definitely work..."

Nick groaned, "We're going to be here all day."

Then, as John B punched in another random combination, Nick had a fleeting recollection of a piece of scrap paper he'd seen on the desk. He rushed back over to where he'd came from, picking up a loose sticky note attached to the map.

"John B," he called, "try six, one, six, six, six."

With a nod of understanding, John B did as he was told, and to the utter amazement of the three boys, the safe light turned a bright green and the metal door swung open to reveal a fat stack of cash.

"Holy shit," awed John B and Nick simultaneously.

"Nikolai, you fucking genius!" JJ cheered. "I could kiss you right now, bro! Did that really just happen?"

Then, on an impulse, he made to reach for the money in the safe, but John B was too quick and slapped his kleptomaniac hand away.

"Don't touch it," he warned.

But JJ was far beyond reason, for he had spotted more than just money in the small confinements of the safe. Each of their eyes had dropped to the bottom shelf of the safe on which a lone handgun sat beneath the stacks of cash. Nick, John B, and JJ looked at one another, reflecting the same look of shock.

"That's a SIG Sauer," exclaimed JJ, and he reached for the gun before he could stop himself. "Bro, look at this! This is a fucking spendy gatt. Retails for at least twelve hundo!"

"Alright, alright, we get it," scolded Nick, looking suddenly uneasy. "Now put it back, and let's go."

"Yeah," John B agreed. "We shouldn't mess with any of this stuff."

"Come on, man!" JJ waved them off, stuffing wads of cash into his pockets. "Here," he said, handing his phone to Nick as he began to pose with the gun. "Take a picture of me with this! Bam! Bam! BAM!"

"Make our own incriminating evidence?" Nick swatted the phone away, unamused. "Is that what you want us to do?"

"For fucks sake, JJ," groaned John B, rubbing his hands over his face. "Put it back, man! We're not stealing anything!"

JJ lowered the gun, frowning.

"Lighten up a bit, goddamn —"

But he was cut off as the sound of pebbles clattering against the window glass pulled each of the boys' focus. Nick rushed to window, lifted the blinds, and poked his head out to see his sister, Pope, and Kiara signalling from below.

"Cops!" they mouthed, pointing to the second-floor balcony outside.

"We've got to go," whispered Nick, and as soon as the words left his lips, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Kildare County Sheriff's Department!" the cops yelled as JJ quickly opened the window, silently instructing his friends to pile through. John B and Nick climbed on through and stood on the narrow ledge on either sides of the window pane, holding onto the sides of the building to keep their balance.

JJ came through after them, joining John B on his side, as he closed the window behind him. With his face pressed against the cold stone bricks of the motel, Nick held his breath as he and his friends tottered over the edge, each of them looking terrified. From the tiny gap between the blinds, he could see the deputies searching the inside of the motel room.

One by one, the Pogues carefully climbed down onto the dumpsters below them, making little noise as to not raise suspicion. Nick, John B, and JJ hit the ground with a breath of relief, sprinting around the side of the building, as one of the deputies peered out from the window and missed them by a mere millisecond.

"Well, that was fun," huffed JJ, piling back onto the HMS Pogue with Nick and John B. "You could have warned us earlier, though," he said to the others as John B took control of the helm and steered them away as fast as possible.

"We would have," quipped Kiara, "except Pope was on the math team."

Nick blinked, confused, and looked to Pope.

"You were on the math team?"

"Yeah," Olivia answered for him, "which is why he can't throw a rock to save his life."

"Did you guys see that?" asked John B, changing tact. "The cops took everything like it was a crime scene."

"Did you find anything up there?" urged Pope, his curiosity springing the forefront of his mind.

"Did we find anything? No, I don't think so," JJ pondered for a moment, but then broke out into a fit of laughter and showed the others the handgun and money he'd stolen. "Oh, yeah, we did," he cheered.

"What the hell?" Pope looked incredulous. "Are you insane?"

"Dude, chill," JJ waved him off. "It's no big deal."

"No big deal?" repeated Olivia, her one eyebrow kinked in disbelief. "You take a handgun from a crime scene, and it's considered no big deal?"

JJ groaned, "It's better than the cops having it!"

"You can't be serious," scoffed Kiara, shaking her head. "What happens if you get caught, you idiot?"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," panicked Pope, rocking back and forth. "I'm going to lose my merit scholarship!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Nick nudged him reassuringly. "It'll be okay, man. I mean, at least you have us, right?"

Pope rolled his eyes.

"I'm living the nightmare."

── • ──

author's note:
*this chapter was not proof read*

hope you enjoyed <3

it's my first time writing a fanfiction for a tv show, so please leave your reviews in the comments (they're greatly appreciated)! lmk how you like the OCs so far, and maybe what I should change about them!!

[insert begging for comments and votes]

sending you lots of love!

xo, selena

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