AN: this is set... probably at a school bigger than obx, but let your imagination run wild. also we must pretend it's believable someone isn't recognized in a mask mkay.
JJ wasn't sure when 'once upon a time' stopped existing for him.
Maybe it was the night he'd realized he was eating shitty Scooby Snacks for dinner when other kids had actual meals, and that wasn't normal.
Or perhaps it was that day outside his first grade classroom, with his knees bouncing together as he waited for a mother that would never come to the parent pick up line. She was just running late, he'd told himself. Sometimes she forgot to get out of bed, so that must be it.
Definitely by the time he was cowering in his closet, throat throbbing from where his father had wrapped his hands around his neck like vices. He'd seen stars that day, but he wasn't sure if it was from the tears or the near blackout. It was far from the last time.
More than likely, it never existed at all. For Maybanks, it was all always and never.
Keytohappiness [7:56 am] Morning!
Gearhead420 [8:02 am] gross
Gearhead420 [8:02 am]: who are u
Keytohappiness [8:03 am]: well, then. I hope you have a shit morning
Gearhead420 [8:05 am]: I will. It's a school day, thx
Gearhead420 [8:05 am]: learning and shit. Having to bring a pencil
Keytohappiness [8:06 am]: you are not wrong
"Hey, kid!" a gruff voice bellowed, and JJ's head shot up from the cracked screen of his iPhone 5, shoulders automatically tensing into a defensive position.
It was a reflex he'd developed over the years to dodge the sharp glass of flung beer bottles and the swings of drunken, sloppy fists. Ernie hadn't hit him yet, but he still looked threatening while he enunciated in the doorway of the dish room with little flicks of his spatula.
"Is the boss paying you to send little messages to your friends? I don't think so. We have tables waiting, Maybank."
Three fucking tables. JJ knew, because the breakfast rush from the school crowd had already cleared, and if the people left were too much for the other waitress to handle, she might need to look into a new career.
JJ yanked his apron off. "Shift's over."
He ignored Ernie's wales of protest as he trotted out the door. Mike Carrera was the man signing his paycheck, not Ernie, and if he missed many more classes this semester, he'd be an automatic flunk out. He'd only picked up shifts at the Wreck for the past month, but he'd already skipped school at least once a week to work enough to cover the bills his father certainly wouldn't pay. He could do without warm water, but an eviction notice and a broken nose resulting from it wasn't on his desired list.
He was already ten minutes late to Economics as it was. JJ couldn't fathom what he'd need to know the ins and outs of different trade systems for, but if a high school degree earned him a ticket out of his shitty excuse for a house, then he was damn well getting one.
As he drove his beat up old bike towards the school, sans helmet and twenty over the speed limit, JJ's mind drifted back to keytohappiness. The mysterious girl he'd been messaging, whatever the hell her actual name was.
It started as some stupid app the school techies created to promote unity and growing friendship circles or some other bullshit. He'd joined because his homeroom required it, she'd commented on a picture of a rusted boat motor he was fixing up for some kook, telling him he was doing a shitty job, and he hadn't had time to blink before they were exchanging messages every day, multiple times a day.
John B told him it was cute that he had a pen pal, to which JJ promptly warned him to fuck off. Pope had corrected both of them, just to make sure they knew it wasn't technically the same thing as a pen pal, but he was equally interested in JJ's interest in this girl.
It was out of character for him. JJ didn't spend time talking to girls when he could do other things with them. In fact, he didn't spend time with much of anyone long term except for John B and Pope.
But this girl was easy to talk to. He'd told her things that he'd never told anyone, not even John B; how he felt like he was never going to get out of this town, how little he actually liked most of their high school population. She strongly concurred.
It felt fucking stupid to admit, even to himself, but he liked that she didn't know who he was, that she had no expectations that came with his or his family's reputation.
He didn't know what he expected out of her, either. The image of a loner girl, hunched over her ukulele to perfect the tune of the latest song she was writing shot through his mind, but he cast it aside.
He was never going to actually meet her, so what did it matter? This wasn't going to be a thing.
It was twenty minutes after the bell, and JJ was slowing down to pull into the last bike spot up front when a squeal of tires screeched through the air and a sleek 2021 model slid in front of him. He slammed a foot on the breaks, cursing.
"What the hell, man?"
The opposing bike's owner's feet hit the asphalt. The helmet came off, and he shook out his head of over gelled hair. Rafe Cameron. His rich developer father had purchased him the bike a few weeks ago, and he'd been busy flaunting it around so absolutely anyone who would look at it couldn't miss it.
His light eyes flitted to JJ, a smirk of mock innocence teasing his lips. "Oh, didn't see you there."
JJ's fists clenched at his sides, hard enough that he dimly realized his nails were digging into his palms. Rafe, however, had already reverted back to pretending JJ was nothing more than dirt on the bottom of his shoe. His favorite pastime.
"Top, there you are!" Rafe called across the parking lot, ignoring JJ as he was forced to pull his bike off to a create-your-own spot off in the grass. He didn't have time for starting shit this morning, not when he was already at risk for a detention. He imagined Rafe's eyes, still red rimmed from whatever line of drugs he'd undoubtedly done over the weekend, decked out with a shiner, and his fingers twitched at the thought.
If Rafe was JJ's second least favorite person on the planet (The top spot was secured by non other than Luke Maybank in a drunken rage), several other ranking members in the top ten sauntered over. JJ could make them out even from his place at the back of the parking lot; Topper, Kelce, and the whole gang. All were popular kids with enough of daddy's money that the teachers would never even bat an eye that they were running late.
JJ was very much unlikely to receive the same treatment.
Topper had Sarah Cameron on his arm, and he looked like someone had just made him Prince of Fucking Persia, which he may as well have been. When Sarah Cameron walked into a room, with her luscious caramel locks and three hundred dollar outfit, people noticed. She was a walking cliché, the total queen bee of high school, except she pretended to be nice. JJ had no doubt it was an act, given that she shared a gene pool with Rafe, who had no shame publically flaunting how much a jackass he was.
A second girl had clamored out of Topper's jeep. Sarah Cameron's best friend was darker and quieter, the girl that stood in her shadow while people congregated around her like moths to a flame.
JJ's eyes were drawn to her, against his will. Personally, he had always thought she was the hotter one. With her long, shapely legs and the toned midriff visible under her crop top, she was a ten out of ten for sure. Hell, she was an eleven.
But an eleven did not save her from being a stuck up bitch, just like the rest of them. Her mocha gaze brushed over JJ from where she trailed behind Sarah, like he was a smudge of gum on the sidewalk that wasn't even large enough to catch her attention. He doubted Kiara Carrera even knew he was her father's employee.
JJ walked behind them at a careful distance. On another day, he might've welcomed the fight they would undoubtedly pick, but his back was aching from his late shift at the garage last night and he was already in a pissy mood at the thought of the detention he was no doubt about to receive.
He made out Rafe lingering towards the back of their group, his hand brushing Kiara's elbow, and his stomach coiled in something that felt a lot like disgust.
Shitty people deserved each other, he reckoned.
Gearhead420 [3:08 pm]: Im thinkin we should slip a blunt into Mrs. Culliver's bag
Gearhead420 [3:09 pm]: it might help with the stick up her ass
Keytohappiness [3:12 pm]: Aw. If you look at pictures of her cats she will definitely let you out of detention early
Gearhead420 [3:17 pm]: plz kill me
"What are you smiling at?"
"Oh." Kiara shoved her phone back in her bag. "Nothing. Just a stupid tiktok."
Sarah's eyebrows flew up. She was bent over, both hands reaching around her right foot in a warm up stretch, but Kiara could have seen her look from Mars. "You're texting a guy," she accused. "Who is he?"
"I don't know. I mean, nobody."
Kiara wasn't sure why she was keeping her anonymous chat buddy a secret. It was harmless, and it wasn't like Sarah didn't talk to her about boys all the time. She knew everything about Sarah's first date with Topper two weeks ago; what they'd talked about, how long it had taken him to grab her hand, how their first kiss was fine but maybe a little wet for Sarah's taste.
It just felt almost stupid, in a sense, to admit she didn't have a clue who the guy she was crushing on was. Because if the way her stomach rolled every time the app chimed was any indication, she was well on her way to a big fat crush.
Talking to people, really talking to them, had never come easy to Kiara. She was popular, but only because Sarah was popular and her family had money (Hard earned, from their restaurant). It was…. nice to be able to text someone after a long day without having to think for a second about what she was sending him. It wasn't even like that for her and Sarah all the time, which was a rather sad fact Kiara preferred not to dwell on.
Sarah pulled herself back upright, her practice skirt swishing. "Is Mr. Nobody taking you to the Halloween dance?"
"Doubt it." Kiara halfheartedly stretched out her arms, each in turn, considering the concept.
She and her anonymous texting buddy, at the Halloween dance. She couldn't deny she'd thought about meeting him, but it was a topic she wasn't quite sure how to broach. He seemed… not shy, but at the very least, private. It might be awkward if she tried to move things forward and he didn't want to.
Kiara couldn't deny the idea was kind of appealing. He made her laugh, and she already felt like she could talk to him about anything. But there was also the potential of being let down by the real thing…
"It's not Rafe, is it?" Sarah's voice was a little nervous, like she couldn't decide how she felt about the idea.
"Uh, no," Kiara said, trying to remember that even though Sarah was her closest friend, Rafe was also her brother. She refrained from saying anything else, but she hadn't missed the way Rafe had lurked around them lately, how his sleezy gaze followed her more often than usual when she was hanging out at the Cameron family pool. She didn't think he'd actually do anything, but it left her feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He was really popular on top of being Sarah's family, so she didn't want to deal with having to turn him down if he were to make move.
Another check in the pro list of meeting her mystery online guy, then. Keep Rafe Cameron away.
"Oh, okay. I was just making sure—"
"Hey, bitches. You two coming or what?" Sarah was interrupted by Scarlet poking her head into the women's locker room. Like Sarah, she looked like she was born to wear her clover colored cheerleader uniform.
Kiara, on the other hand, was very much not meant to be a cheerleader.
Maybe she had the legs for the skirt (Not many hesitated in telling her so), but she definitely didn't have the attitude. Kiara didn't consider herself to be sulky or a downer, but pasting on a smile for dance routine after dance routine made her cheeks ache. More often than not, her coach had to tell her at least twice per game, Smile, Kiara.
It was something Sarah had talked her into, when they had gotten really close freshmen year. She'd done it, reluctantly, and it wasn't that she hated it, per say, but she definitely never would've done it without Sarah there begging her. Sometimes she wasn't even sure if the other girls on the squad actually liked her.
She was somehow simultaneously in the popular crowd and totally an outsider at the same time. Not all it was cracked up to be.
Keytohappiness [8:03 pm]: you ever have one of those days where you think no one in the world sees the real you? Like you're lonely in a room full of people?
Keytohappiness [8:06 pm]: that sounds stupid. It's just that I have this anxiety about what other people think, like they're going to hate me, which is ridiculous, because societal norms shouldn't be something I'm caught up in, but here we are.
Keytohappiness [8:07 pm]: I'm totally rambling. Sorry.
Gearhead420 [8:21 pm]: woah. Getting to the real shit, aren't we?
Keytohappiness [8:22 pm]: sorry. Didn't mean to start spewing sappy shit today.
Gearhead420 [8:36 pm]: it's all good.
Gearhead420 [8:36 pm]: fuck what other people think. I already like u better than half the school.
Keytohappiness [8:38 pm]: Wow. My life might be complete now that I have your seal of approval.
Gearhead420 [8:40 pm]: It totally should be
Work. School. Getting snubbed by rich kids. Work. Sleep if he was lucky, get his ass beat if he wasn't.
Today, JJ had the particularly unfortunate combination of having to go to work after getting his ass beat the night before, which meant he had to either hide his wincing from his coworkers, play hungover so he could lean into the pain a little bit, or make up some imaginary scuffle he had gotten into.
"You sorry piece of shit. Your teacher called, said you had another detention—you know what happens when those people come sniffing around, don't you?" Luke Maybank had screamed when JJ had come home, tired from a long shift at the garage. Now, he had a black eye for his shift at the Wreck.
"You should see the other guy," JJ chirped, when he'd met John B around the corner of the counter. The best days at the Wreck were those when his shifts lined up with his best friends'.
John B had believed him, like always, because apparently JJ was wild and volatile enough that no one ever doubted him getting into a fistfight. He pushed aside the hollow feeling of disappointment in his throat and pulled out his best tip-winning smile.
And promptly froze in his tracks. Kiara Carrera was sat on a bar stool, hands propping her chin up and a soft smile on her face, chatting with her dad. Pope had been sitting nearby earlier, just hanging out because he had nothing better to do, but apparently he'd scampered off at the first sign of a popular kid.
JJ scooted back into the dish room and kicked at John B's ankles. "Bro, you got a customer at the bar."
John B glared at him. "Who?"
"Carrera."
"Mike?"
"No, Kiara."
"Shit,' John B said. "Is she alone?"
His best friend strained around the edge of the dish room, messy chocolate curls popping out from under his cap. If JJ asked, he knew John B would say he didn't feel like dealing with Topper or Rafe's shit, but in reality he was probably mostly hoping Sarah Cameron was sniffing around with Kiara. He liked to ogle her and then play dumb.
"She probably won't order anything. She's just talking to her dad, and he'll get it if she does," John B reasoned.
JJ's fingers tapped against his sides. "Rock paper scissors you if one of us has to do it."
The first round, JJ threw down a pair of scissors, and John B a rock. JJ cursed. "No, it has to be best two out of three," he argued. He chose scissors two more times, grinning wickedly when John B panicked and reverted to paper. "Maybe one day I'll show you the highs and lows of rock paper scissors technique, but—"
JJ's phone dinged, and he trailed off habitually to check it. There was an embarrassing swell of minor disappointment when he saw it was just a text from Pope. Keytohappiness hadn't texted him since the night before, and although he hated to admit it, he kind of missed talking to her already.
Pussy shit, right there.
"Is that your pen pal?" John B's greedy fingers reached for his phone, and JJ snatched it back, scowling.
"No, it's Pope."
"Oh my God." John B feigned surprise. "JJ, are you blushing? I think he's blushing."
"Fuck off." He really wasn't, but he might be if John B didn't shut his trap.
Unfortunately, Mike caught sight of JJ. The Wreck was slow tonight apart from an older couple sitting in the corner, and Kiara, of course. "Hey, JJ! Mind getting Kiara a milkshake while I finish up this shrimp?"
Fuck. Yes, he did mind.
Kiara blinked over her father's shoulder at him, face glazed over like her mind was somewhere else. She was sitting on the counter now, in too-tiny little athletic shorts that left her long, long legs on full display from where she had them crossed. She'd probably just come from cheer practice.
JJ lifted his hat off his head, then jerked it back on, pushing it further down than before. "Yeah, sure," he grunted, because Mike was his boss and it wasn't like he could say, No, I'll pass, thanks.
Mike returned to the kitchen, leaving JJ and Kiara in awkward silence. JJ could practically feel John B struggling to contain his sniggers from the dish room.
"Well, what do you want?" JJ asked, and it came out a bit snippier than how he probably should've been talking to his boss's daughter.
Kiara dipped her chin at him, unimpressed, and he felt her gaze hover over his black eye. Yes, Princess, that's a shiner. This is the real world, he wanted to say. He didn't.
"Mint chip," she said, flatly.
"Sure," JJ muttered. He reached a hand into the cabinet where they normally kept the milkshake cups, felt around inside, and came up empty. He banged the top of his skull on the way out, wincing. "Uh, just a second—"
"I got it." Kiara smoothly hopped over the counter, ducked her head under it, and somehow materialized a spare cup out of thin fucking air. She hardly spared JJ a glance as she made her way to the drink mixer and completely made herself at home spinning a mint chip shake. Totally showing him up.
Apparently, Mike wasn't lying when he said Kiara normally took shifts at the Wreck as well, but was currently on a break due to cheer season, or some shit. Thank God. JJ didn't know if he could handle her bouncing around every day like she owned the place, which… he guessed she sort of did.
Kiara topped her milkshake with whip cream, no cherry. "Bye, Dad! Love you," she called, raising her voice so Mike could hear her from the kitchen.
And then she was gone, just as quickly as she'd come. JJ doubted she had even looked at him long enough to remember his face if someone offered to pay her to pick him out of a crowd. He scowled.
"Wow man. That was just something else." John B appeared at his side, his freckled face red from laughing. JJ jabbed an elbow into his ribs.
"You fucking cheater! It was supposed to be you."
Keytohappiness [10:21 pm]: So, we know way too many things about each other for me to be calling you gearhead for the rest of my life.
Gearhead420 [11:10 pm]: gearhead420, thx
Keytohappiness [11:13 pm]: I'm serious. Would it really be so weird if we met up some time?
Gearhead420 [11:14 pm]: Maybe. For all I know ur a creepy 60 year old man.
Gearhead420 [11:15 pm}: I don't want to be on some murder mystery shit
Keytohappiness [11:16 pm]: Really, me? If either of us is a 60 year old man it's definitely you.
Gearhead420 [11: 20 pm]: I don't know. Ur the instigator in this situation
Gearhead420 [11:20 pm]: but I might be down if ur rich
Keytohappiness [11:22 pm]: totally not funny
Gearhead420 [11:25 pm]: u know u laughed
Keytohappiness [11:27 pm]: …maybe a little
Gearhead420 [11:40 pm]: we can think about it
Keytohappiness [11: 42 pm]: Me being a 60 year old man?
Gearhead420 [11: 58 m]: meeting up.
"And then he wanted to hang out Sunday too. Isn't that a little much?"
"Kind of," Kiara said, watching as Sarah fretted through her salad across the table. Sarah's eyes drifted to where Topper was caught up with Rafe and Kelce across the lunch room, then back to her salad when she was satisfied that he wasn't in overhearing range. "He kind of gives clingy vibes."
"Oh, great. That's what I was thinking." Sarah's hands landed palm down on the table. For all the distress written on her face, one would've thought the end of the world must be coming. For her, it might as well have been.
Kiara pursed her lips. "Maybe you should break up with him."
She loved Sarah with her whole heart, but this dramatic routine she went through with guys was like a dryer cycle on repeat. She knew all the signs, and it could get a little old sometimes. Sarah would date someone for a month, enjoy the rush of the new relationship, and then suddenly find something to freak out over as soon as things left the honeymoon phase. Meaning: she didn't cope well when guys got too serious about her.
As far as Kiara was concerned, she hated the drama of high school relationships. Yet another reason her preoccupation with whether of not her random texting buddy liked her or not was so unfortunate. She knew he liked her, but did he like her in a way that would get Sarah waggling her eyebrows? Surely, if he did he would want to meet up.
She wasn't sure what she wanted from him, exactly. A relationship? Maybe if he's as good as he seems, she realized, which should have her feeling a lot more freaked out than she was.
Kiara didn't really do the whole girlfriend boyfriend thing. She dated guys for two weeks, max, before getting bored and becoming preoccupied with helping Sarah though her flirtations. And she especially didn't get butterflies in her stomach from some guy online who she'd never even met.
She wasn't extremely shallow about looks, but what if he was like, secretly some major creep? She'd never live it down.
All of her doubts didn't stop her from flicking back to their conversation thread, like the power of her gaze would telepathically convince him to say yes.
"Maybe," Sarah said, voice dull. She propped her chin on a fist. "But the Halloween dance is in two weeks. We're dates."
"Well, you could probably find a new one," Kiara suggested. There was hardly a single guy in the school who would turn Sarah down. Against her will, she wondered if her mystery guy would prefer Sarah to her, or if he'd ever had a secret crush on her.
She was pleasantly surprised when she came to the conclusion that no, Sarah actually didn't seem like his type.
"I'll see how the dance goes," Sarah decided, as Kiara knew she would. She let out a little, exasperated breath of air, but Sarah wasn't done. "And seriously, Kiara. We've got to find you a costume."
"I know. We will, don't worry," Kiara said, because she did want to look cute for the dance. She did. But she'd had other things on her mind; the unopened college pamphlets left pointedly in her bedroom, the way her mother referred to her university days with a when and not an if.
Like how in the hell she was supposed to tell them that maybe she didn't even want to step foot in a college, ever. Why would she, when she could take her savings from the Wreck and use it to hop on a plane and travel the world? She didn't care where she ended up. An orphanage in India, an elephant reserve in Thailand. College would never compare to making a difference in the world.
And maybe she could even use that life experience to finally push her to complete her album. She doubted she'd ever really make a career out of her music, but if she did, she could keep enough to live off of and donate the rest to charity.
But instead her parents wanted her in business school, because that was totally her thing.
Keytohappiness [1:31 pm]: I hate social expectations
Gearhead420 [1:32 pm]: uh oh
Keytohappiness [2:02 pm]: My parents still keep "accidentally" leaving college booklets in my room, and my friends are forcing me to go to… the Halloween dance
Gearhead420 [2:03 pm]: lmao I'll be having cheap booze on my couch
Keytohappiness [2:22 pm]: not fair. If you were a good friend you'd come with
JJ inhaled deeply, allowing the smoke to build in his lungs for several therapeutic seconds before blowing it out into the afternoon air. It was so rare he got time off during the school year to hang out with his friends like a normal teenager. "Theoretically, if some really hot chick asked you to a lame school dance, would you go?"
He was laid out in the hammock at John B's house, the two of them facing each other. Pope was sprawled out on the ground beneath them, occasionally making snide comments about the stench of their weed. His knee brushed John B's, and he chose not to dwell on the fact that the warmth of his friend's skin against his soothed him more than the blunt did. It was nice; the casual feel of another human being who didn't hate him.
Fuck. Getting high was supposed to relax him, not make him dwell on the gloom of his entire existence. His life sucked. Oh well.
John B raised his head. "No, JJ, I won't go to the Halloween dance with you."
"I'm being for real. If she's, like, the hottest chick around." Except for all he knew, his mystery girl could be atrocious.
"Is this about your texting girl?" Pope droned. "Because I know for a fact you have no idea what she looks like. None."
JJ fell back against the hammock, and John B took the opportunity to snatch the blunt from him. They were sharing, because John B didn't have as high a tolerance as JJ, and they both had to go to school in the morning.
"No." JJ paused, then added, "She wants to meet up."
"I want to know who she is. I say do it," John B said.
Pope shifted so he was sitting upright, his hands braced behind him to prop himself up. He looked JJ right in the eye. "Technically, if you do the Halloween dance and it's horrible, you can avoid her for the rest of your life after."
JJ considered it for several seconds longer than he'd like to admit. Say he met this girl at the dance, and they miraculously hit it off as well as they did over text. What then? Worst-case scenario, she'd head for the hills as soon as she realized his family name. Best-case scenario, she actually liked him, and then his work schedule or his father ruined it for him and she dumped his sorry ass.
He was the type of guy girls lied to their friends about sleeping with, not the kind they brought home to meet Mom and Dad.
JJ ran a hand through his hair, and it stuck up, greasy from where he'd been working under cars an hour ago. "What should my costume be? Broke waiter? There's no point, guys."
"I think you're just scared of romance," John B announced, like he'd made some grand discovering regarding the secrets of the universe. He looked fucking ridiculous.
JJ snatched the blunt from between his fingers and took another drag. "I think you've watched too many Lifetime movies, bro."
Pope held up a finger. "I think you mean Hallmark."
"Same difference," JJ argued.
"No, not really," Pope said. He paused. "JB and I will go with you if you really want to go."
John B made a face, but then reluctantly nodded along. "Yeah, we can, but you owe us."
If he could find a costume… Technically, he didn't have to talk to this girl again. He could have one night to himself. Mike would probably let him switch a shift with someone if he asked now, and he could spend the night hanging out with a potentially cool girl he actually enjoyed talking to, just the same as Rafe Cameron or Topper Thornton was planning to do. The idea had its merits.
"Whatever. I'll think about it."
Gearhead420 [4:21 pm]: are u serious about meeting up?
Keytohappiness [4:30 pm]: like ever, or at the dance?
Gearhead420 [4:37 pm]: both
Gearhead420 [4:38 pm]: the dance
Keytohappiness [4:43 pm]: I think that would be cool, yeah. Really we don't even have to see each other in our costumes, right?
Gearhead420 [4:56 pm]: 11, middle of the dance floor?
Keytohappiness [4:58 pm]: it's a date
Gearhead420 [5:00 pm]: janitors closet if ur hot
Keytohappiness laughed at 'janitors closet if ur hot'
Kiara hated when their "friends" piled into the Wreck with she and Sarah on the weekends. Partly because she could only take most of them in small doses, and partly because her dad hated giving them free food. It was always an argument between him and her mom. They couldn't really afford it, but Anna was determined to uphold a good image with families like the Camerons, and if they couldn't feed their daughter's friends what was the point?
Kiara appreciated the gesture for Sarah, but truthfully she wouldn't much mind if the rest of them never stepped foot in the Wreck again.
Still, despite the fact that they were all there waiting for their order and despite the fact that Rafe had maneuvered himself into the booth next to her, it was difficult to completely sour her good mood. The Halloween dance was a week away, and Mystery Guy had agreed! They were finally going to meet.
Rafe still proved to be a nuisance, even as chatter about the odds in the upcoming football game led the discussion. His hand kept brushing her thigh. When it wasn't his hand, it was his foot sliding against hers, and Kiara's stomach rolled. She not so discretely shifted away, but he never did seem to get the hint.
One of her dad's new waiters ambled over, balancing an impressive amount of plates. The teenagers never seemed to last more than a few months, max, and when Kiara was taking a break from work during cheer season, she found she couldn't keep up with them at all.
This one looked only vaguely familiar. Messy blond hair tucked into a red cap that cast shadows over his face, though she could still read that his expression was sullen. He looked about her age, and she felt like maybe she'd seen him around school or the restaurant in passing at some point.
His smile was sarcastic when he said, "Order's up."
He sat Kiara's order in front of her first; a simple shrimp basket. Rafe's burger was last, and the waiter didn't seem sorry about it.
"Hey, uh, waiter," Rafe said, and Kiara's hands froze over her fries. The waiter stopped, posture stiff, like he already knew he wasn't going to like what was coming. "What kind of bread is this, huh? I'd really like to know."
"White," came the dry response, and Kiara bit back her snort.
The blond watched Rafe for another moment. He was stiffening next to Kiara, but he'd yet to say anything else. Just when a long enough silence had spanned that the waiter turned to leave, Rafe said, "What about some extra napkins?"
The blond paused, jaw clenched as he fished around in his apron pockets. A wad of napkins fell in front of Rafe, and Rafe narrowed his eyes down at them, like he was counting them. Kiara sensed him gearing up for one of those long games of cat and mouse he enjoyed with less popular kids, which was by far her least favorite quality of his (And she had many). But just as Rafe opened his mouth again, the waiter said, "Alright, well I got real customers over there."
He jutted his thumb back towards a family of three nearby, and he was gone before Rafe could get another word in. Kiara hid her smirk by taking a sip of her water.
"What a piece of shit. He can kiss his tip goodbye."
Topper nodded. "Right, Man? I was just sitting here like, 'Wow, does this guy not know his job description?' Wild."
"Y'all aren't real customers," Kiara couldn't help but point out.
"It does kind of surprise me that your dad hired him," Sarah admitted.
"Him? Why?" Kiara was apparently out of the loop. As far as she was concerned, the boy had done a perfectly fine job waiting on them, regardless of Rafe's opinion on the matter. If anything, good for him. Rafe was getting a free meal she didn't really want to give him. He didn't get a monopoly to pick on her dad's employees, too.
"That's JJ Maybank," Sarah said, like that was supposed to explain everything. The name sounded like she'd probably heard it at some point before, but Kiara was totally blanking. Noticing the expression on her face, Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's from a rough family. He's been suspended like, a million times. For fighting, probably for drugs too."
"You should really tell your dad. Don't want that kind of reputation hanging around." Kiara couldn't help but think Topper said the word reputation a lot like he really meant trash.
She raised her brows and tossed them a shrug. It really wasn't her business, and as long as she didn't catch the guy swiping money from the cash register, she wasn't about to try to lose someone his job just because. People like Topper and the Camerons might not understand, but contrary to popular belief, Kiara knew what it was like to hear her parents talking late at night in the kitchen about money, their voices hushed.
Gradually, the conversation shifted away from whether or not Mike Carrera should fire his new waiter to the Halloween dance. Topper wanted to take Sarah out to a fancy restaurant before. Kelce wanted to just wear his football uniform.
Kiara had to fight a smile at the thought of finally meeting her mystery guy. There were nerves, but the closer it got, she found her excitement more palpable. What if this worked out, and she could finally talk to someone who really got her? Just Kiara. Not Sarah Cameron's best friend.
The concept both thrilled and terrified her.
"I was thinking we should go matching, but nothing too tacky or cheap," Rafe was saying, and what the fuck? He was looking at her, his light eyes unblinking. Was this his way of officially asking her to the Halloween dance?
"Rafe," she said, and her voice was small in a way Kiara hated. She didn't do meek.
Rafe ignored her, and the chatter around the table continued obliviously. Sarah shot her a look that told her that her best friend, at least, was more aware of what going on. She hoped she wouldn't hate her for what came next.
She didn't know what she would do if Sarah hated her.
"Vampires are sexy, don't you think?" Rafe continued, leaning in so she was clouded in the overpowering stench of his expensive cologne. The hundred bucks he'd dropped on it hadn't paid off.
"Rafe, I can't go to the dance with you." Kiara kept her voice low, hoping not to attract attention.
Rafe had no such qualms. His hackles were raised at once. "You what?" A peal of laughter erupted from his chest. It was disbelieving, like he thought she must be making a bad joke. Rafe Cameron could probably count on one hand the amount of times he'd been told 'no' in his life. Kiara doubted he even knew the meaning of the word.
Well, he was about to learn it.
"Maybe we should talk outside?" she suggested. A few more of their group were shooting curious looks their way, but they hadn't totally made a spectacle yet.
Kiara didn't have a high opinion of Rafe at all, but he was still Sarah's brother. She didn't want to humiliate him.
"No, no, that won't be necessary," Rafe said. He was smiling, but his voice had hardened. "What do you mean, you can't go with me?"
So he was going to be difficult, then. Kiara paused to set her nerves.
"I'm going with… someone else."
"Who?" Rafe demanded. His burger was abandoned and half eaten in his plate.
Suddenly, all eyes were on her. She looked around helplessly. "I…" She couldn't bring herself to say she didn't know, not with Rafe glaring like that. "You don't know him."
Kiara jumped when Rafe abruptly stood up from the table, the bottom of it screeching across the wood. A few other patrons in the restaurant were giving them curious glances now.
"You know what? Food here's shit, anyway. And don't even get me started on the service."
"Rafe," Sarah snapped, but he was angry and determined as strode out the door, Kelce on his heels. Topper's mouth dropped open, and he glanced between the exit and his steaming girlfriend next to him. "Oh my God. Is he serious right now?"
"Wow. I don't even know what to say," Kiara said, mostly because the amount of insults circling through her brain were endless. She'd always known Rafe could be a dick, but… she'd been almost scared of him just then.
Sarah stood up, flipping her hair over one shoulder and her purse over the other. "I'm sorry. I should really go after him and make sure he doesn't do something insane." She did a double take at Kiara. "Are you okay?"
"Fine."
Topper gestured up at Sarah. "I- I should probably—"
"Go ahead," Kiara cut across him, and he obeyed. Her hands pulled at the roots of her hair.
She stared at the hardly eaten plates around her, half concerned with what her dad would have to say, and half concerned with how freaking awkward school was going to be for the next few days. She'd done so much to fit in, but sometimes she really just hated that Sarah had to be friends with people she thought so little of.
This scene was kind of inevitable, though, she realized, as she began habitually stacking the dishes that had been left strewn across the table. Rafe had been trying to flirt with her for weeks, and he wasn't the type of person to take a subtle brush off as an answer. She had her doubts he was done with her even after the spectacle he'd just made.
"Hm, so I'm guessing this means we don't need any refills, then?"
Their waiter, JJ Maybank, had somehow snuck up on her, a pitcher of sweet tea in one hand and his brow cocked. He glanced out towards the exit, and she could just imagine that he was seeing the taillights of Topper's jeep retreating.
"No. Thanks," she muttered, hands grasping at the dishes. JJ snatched them away from her, his eyes running over her face. She wondered if her distress was written all over it.
"I'll take these. Don't feel like getting sacked today."
And then was gone again, and not even her dad's employee wanted to hang around her. Awesome.
Kiara felt a flash of gratefulness that she'd driven herself here after practice. Otherwise, she'd be stuck here until her dad closed down, which would be several hours from now, when all customers had vacated the premise and the floors were scrubbed clean.
She wasn't sure why she hadn't gotten up yet. The booth was clean, and she didn't feel like having her dad walk out of the kitchen and start asking her about where her friends had gone. She supposed she felt like if she just sat there, the entire situation could still rewind itself to a scenario where Rafe would have the forethought to keep his mouth shut.
A shadow loomed back in her line of vision, and she nearly started when a cup slid to a stop in front of her. Upon looking up, she discovered JJ attending the table next to her. He shot her a wink, and then his attention was a little too fixated on scribbling down the family's order to be genuine.
Kiara turned her eyes back to the cup he'd dropped off for her. A mint chip shake.
She settled back into the booth, feet propped against the opposite side and a surprised smile teasing her lips.
Keytohappiness [9:21 pm]: so how was your day?
Gearhead420 [10:16 pm]: four out of ten. Worked my ass off
Keytohappiness [10:20 pm]: ugh. Three out of ten for me. Guys are jackasses
Keytohappiness [10:21 pm]: Okay, maybe four. Sometimes people surprise you
Gearhead420 [10:23 pm]: I happen to be full of surprises
Gearhead420 [10:26 pm]: And btw I can kick someone's ass if u want
Keytohappines [10:27 pm]: Not a surprise a guy would say that… but thanks
It was Friday, the night before the big Halloween dance, and JJ was so exhausted he could practically feel his eyelids drooping. He'd worked a double at the Wreck for the past two days, just so he could ensure he would have a rare day off for Saturday. He didn't even have a costume yet, so he was hoping the extra time would help him throw something together with the help of the boys.
He twisted the knob on his front door. He hadn't seen his dad around all week, mostly because he'd been fired from his main job and spent the days sleeping and the late nights throwing back drugs and boozing himself straight into an early grave. In the days he actually crawled out of bed, he'd make his way to the junkyard and earn a few bucks to blow.
In fact, JJ hadn't seen him since last week, when he'd donated both his paychecks to ensure the bills were taken care of, which was why his stomach dropped in dread when he went to flick on the living room light and nothing happened.
"Shit," he muttered.
"Shit's right," a gruff voice ground back, and JJ paused, heart racing in his chest. One hand remained on the knob, but there was no familiar sound of angry boots stomping across the old floorboards, so he slowly let it fall. "Power's cut off."
JJ's skin was buzzing. "Dad, what happened to the money I gave you?"
It was, as always, the wrong thing to say. Luke's voice deepened, and the couch groaned like maybe he was standing up. "I'm going to need you to contribute a little more around here, you hear me?"
"There was enough money there—"
"Listen, you piece of shit!" Luke bellowed, and although JJ couldn't see him, he could tell he'd stood up. "I need you to earn your damn keep, and you're not doing that. You better hope you can get some more cash by next week."
"There's no way there's enough from just this week," JJ said. "I've worked every day—"
Something crashed above his head, and JJ's arms covered his face. Glass rained down to the floor, but for once, his skin was left unscathed.
For now.
"You need to stop running around with your little shit friends and start putting in some more. If I see your ass leave the house this weekend, don't even come back. You got that?"
And that was how JJ ended up in his room, door locked and back braced against it, with his head leaned back against the cool wood behind him.
He knew Keytohappiness was too good to be true. Just the fucking word 'happiness' in her username should've told him all he needed to know.
He must have sat there all night, because the next thing he knew, his back was stiff, and he was jolting awake to an urgent tapping on his window. He looked around, eyes wild in preparation for his dad to have decided he was even more pissed during the night and be busting into his room, but morning light streamed in through his window, and he could just make out a curly head of brown hair looking in on him. John B waved frantically.
JJ slunk over to the window and yanked it up. "What are you doing here, man? If my dad fucking catches you—"
"You weren't answering your phone," John B interrupted, holding up his own phone and shaking it. "We've gotta go dig up some costumes. In case you forgot?"
JJ's grip tightened on the windowsill. "I can't go."
"What do you mean, you can't go?" John B demanded. Both of his hands were held up in offense.
"My dad's in one of his moods," JJ said vaguely.
"Since when do you care about authority? And what about that girl?"
An inkling of something trickled through JJ. Maybe disappointment, or annoyance, that John B had been his best friend for years and still hadn't picked up on what utter hell his life was.
He reminded himself that was what he wanted, and said, "I'm sure it was going to be a shit show anyway."
"Come on, man. Your dad won't even know you're gone, right?"
The thought made JJ pause. He did have his dad's schedule memorized by heart. Work at the junkyard until 5:00, if he drug his sorry ass out of bed to begin with. Drinks at the Tavern until 8:00, after which his posse carted itself down to the trailer park where Barry lived for access to various illegal substances. He'd come bumbling inside by 1:30 in the morning, or midnight at the absolute earliest. JJ knew this by heart, because on these nights his father's temper tended to be at its most volatile, and he was sure to either be out of the house or in his room without making a peep.
John B took advantage of JJ's silence. "You like this girl, dude. Do you really want to be the jackass who stands her up because of a bad mood?"
No, he didn't, JJ realized. He'd never really cared what a girl thought of him before, but the image of the smile slowly falling off this faceless girl didn't sit right with him. And he actually, really, really wanted to go, pathetic as it was.
He swallowed. "Fine. But I have to be back no later than midnight. I'm not joking."
Gearhead420 [4:48 pm]: still not telling me what ur costume is?
Keytohappiness [5:11 pm]: Do you even know what yours is yet?
Kiara was in a fucking Cinderella ball gown, complete with the full, glittery skirt and delicate heels. If that didn't spell out just how backwards her life had become, then she didn't know what did.
It was supposed to be Sarah's costume. She'd bought it months ago in preparation for the Halloween dance, way before anyone else that lived on Planet Earth was even worrying about such a thing. She was the princess of the school, so of course she had to go as the princess to end all other princesses. Kiara had completed her obligatory best friend duties by watching as she tried on dozens of dresses and approving while the way too expensive pile of fabric that had probably been sewn together by kids in a third world country was wrapped up for Sarah to take home.
But then Sarah had seen the perfect sexy angel costume, and the ball gown was history. That is, until she'd spotted Kiara's mediocre mermaid seashells and fish scale skirt and given it an automatic no.
"If you're meeting up with this guy, then you need to wow him, Kiara. Even though you won't give me deets on him and I'm bitter, I still want you to get your man," she'd said, and now Kiara was here, having to hold up the skirt every time she wanted to move two inches as she and Sarah slid through the doors to the gym. They needed to make a dramatic entrance, Sarah said.
Mystery Guy was supposed to be meeting her in the middle of the dance floor at eleven o'clock, and she was running two minutes late already.
Sarah's fingers slammed angrily on her phone as they walked. She'd been fighting with Topper all day. It seemed he was pissed Sarah and he hadn't walked in together, because obviously, that was the most important aspect of a relationship.
Sarah paused at the stairs leading down into the gym, where a sea of teenage bodies was already rolling, glad for any and every opportunity to grind. Add masks to the mix, and it was even more tempting, apparently.
"You go ahead," Sarah muttered, nodding to the dance floor. She rolled her eyes. "I've gotta find Topper."
"Good luck." Kiara still thought Sarah should dump his ass.
Sarah shot her a mischievous smile. "You too."
People seemed to part for Kiara as she made her way down the stairs, heart pounding. Probably because they were afraid of being knocked over by her enormous gown.
Her eyes sought out the dead center of the gym, where they almost immediately landed on the figure of a guy.
The first thing she noticed was that he was tall, with broad shoulders and fluffy blond hair he had combed neatly over the side. An athlete, if she was guessing, although she didn't know how she'd never noticed him if that was the case. Didn't know how she'd never noticed him, period. A dark mask rested on his nose, but the sharp lines of his jaw completed her analysis of his attractiveness. Mystery guy was hot.
It took her several, long seconds to realize he was dressed as Prince Charming. He was in a navy jacket with embroidered lapels, and there was just nothing else he could be.
No fucking way. But sure enough, his feet were planted firmly on the school emblem in the middle of the gym floor, and he was alone, just as they'd specified.
He'd spotted her too. His shoulders tensed, and his throat did a little bob, like he was struggling to breathe. It was how she knew for sure it was him. He didn't speak until she came to a direct stop in front of him, offering a nervous smile.
"So… Are you—"
"Kiara Carrera?" slipped out of his mouth, like he'd wanted to make sure it was him she was walking over to before he opened his mouth.
Her heart leaped.
"Oh. Wow. Didn't even want to pretend the mask worked?" Her hands itched to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, but it was twirled back into an elaborate half up style. Touching it would ruin it. She laced her fingers together instead.
"Pretty hard to miss you." There was something tense in his voice, something that gave her the very distinct sense that he did not mean it in a good way. At all.
She was instantly on the defensive. "Well, I'm glad you sound so happy about it."
"Anytime." And there it was, the sharp, sarcastic sense of humor of the person she'd been exchanging messages with for the past few months. She never expected it to leave her feeling so hollow.
His eyes, a lovely shade of aqua, she noted, were scanning the dance floor, like he was already searching for the best escape route. She couldn't help but be offended. What was so wrong with her? He obviously liked her personality, and Kiara had never been one to be self conscious of her looks, so what was the problem?
"Why does it matter who I am?" Kiara demanded. "We already know we get along. Who cares?"
Prince Charming, because calling him that was better than calling him Gearhead, thank you very much, let out a tiny, breath of air. It was bordering on bitter. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
Kiara's mouth snapped shut, and she looked at him. Really looked at him. At the fluff of his hair that looked straight out of Hollywood. His long eyelashes, still as he watched her.
She didn't recognize him, but she realized maybe she was supposed to.
"That's what I thought." He scoffed a little, shaking his head, but at least he wasn't walking away.
Kiara worked her lip. She thought on it, then said, "I'm sorry. I just—I get caught up sometimes. You know. We talked about it."
He looked up, but his eyes still glinted with skepticism. "I can't believe that was you," he said. He looked her over for another moment, then his hand went to rub at the back of his neck. "Look, this was a mistake. Let's forget it happened, kapeesh?"
He was turning to disappear into the crowd, and a well of panic rose in Kiara's throat.
"Wait," she blurted, and her hand shot out to wrap around his wrist. He flinched, and she released her grip automatically. He did, however, remain where he was standing. "Sorry. But don't you think we should at least give it a chance?"
He started to shake his head, but he was seeming more and more resigned and less annoyed by the minute. She added, "Look, it's really loud in here. Let's talk outside for a minute. We went through too much trouble not to."
His hands fell to his sides, stiff. "Fine. But I pick where we go."
AN: part 2 (the final part) coming soon. In the meantime, comments make the world go round!