JJ stood outside the music room, in a dark hallway that was explicitly off limits during dance hours, and Kiara fucking Carrera was at his side. He'd let her see exactly who she'd been pouring her heart out to.
"Do you have a bobby pin?" he asked her, like it was a normal thing to ask on a date. Holy fuck. He was kind of on a date with Kiara.
He half expected her to back out, but she merely arched a brow at him and reached around the back of her head. Within seconds, she was dropping the thin piece of metal into his palm. "This should be good."
"Oh, it will be."
He was still sure he'd entered some alternate reality, but he was undecided if it was heaven or hell yet.
He couldn't stop looking at her, even as he worked the pin into the door lock. Kiara was beautiful all the time. In her regular school clothes, when she stopped by the Wreck early Saturday morning with no makeup and her hair in a bun for her biscuit and scrambled eggs.
But tonight, she was stunning, and that word wasn't even in JJ's vocabulary. He'd noticed her the second she'd stepped onto the stairs, and he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her since. His knees had nearly wobbled when she'd walked right up to him.
How fitting that Heyward, Pope's father, had ended up shoving him into a Prince Charming costume. "Damn son, if that's the best you can do no girl's gonna want you," he sniped over JJ's grease stained waiter's uniform. He'd given him the embroidered jacket and mask and ordered him to pretend to be a gentleman for the night. Aside from the big ass hole in one of the pockets, it made him clean up pretty nice. No wonder Kiara didn't recognize him, even though the thought stung more than it ought to. He shouldn't be surprised she'd never taken notice of him.
The door swung open, just as JJ knew it would. He made a sweeping gesture forward, and Kiara's lips pressed together in amusement. "After you."
She stepped around him, flicking the light on and bringing the room into view. Their school didn't provide a lot of funding to the arts, so it was made up mostly of a few shelves of badly aged instruments and a beat up stereo system. He closed the door behind them.
"You're into music?" Kiara asked, like getting caught in there was the least of her worries. JJ had to admit he was pleasantly surprised.
"Yeah, not really." He snatched a guitar off the shelf and tugged a string, producing a horrific noise. Kiara wrinkled her nose. "But you are, unless you were catfishing me. I'm still pretty sure you're a catfish, so."
He held the guitar out to her, and she blinked down at it. "I play the ukulele."
"Yeah, yeah. Same difference. Strings and all. There's no ukulele in here."
"It is so not the same difference—"
"Can you play it or not?" he interrupted, and Kiara grabbed the guitar from him. "Mhmm, thought so."
JJ followed her to the choir chairs, choosing one beside her and flipping it around so his chin could rest on the back while he watched her. Had he been on a date (Well, he didn't really do dates. Flirtation or hook up would be a better descriptor) with anyone else, he probably would've sidled up next to her so that their sides were brushing but… he was already fighting every nervous tick he had as it was. It didn't feel like something he could just do with Kiara.
She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes, squinting at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Her delicate fingers traced the guitar, but her attention remained on him.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing."
Kiara gave the guitar a few test strums, like she was adjusting to the feel of it. The sounds melted into a rhythm slowly but surely, becoming more and more confident.
JJ didn't know jack shit about music, but the sound of the strings was pleasing, and he could tell she was talented. As she got more into it, she began to hum along under her breath.
He nudged her foot with his where it was peeking out from under her dress. Kiara stopped playing at once, eyebrows scrunched together.
"What, no glass slipper?" he asked, with foe innocence.
"Didn't have those at the mall." She glanced down at the guitar in her hand, her grip tightening on it. "What is it? Was it bad?"
"You sing too, right?"
"What do I look like, a free show?" Kiara challenged, but from the amused glint in her eye, he thought she was pleased he remembered. At the very least, she seemed to be enjoying herself, which was so many levels of surreal he didn't even know how to begin.
JJ bumped her foot with his again. "Free show, you said?"
"Oh my god. I'll sing if you just shut up."
She started playing again, building up the music before gradually adding her voice to the mix. It carried throughout the room, reverberating deep into his chest and making his heart sing with perhaps the closest thing to peace he'd ever felt.
She didn't look at him until she was finished, but chills danced along his skin the entire time. One, final note strummed, and then she was watching him, her curls a perfect curtain around her face.
Silence fell in the room, but JJ could still hear the echo of Kiara's voice. She shifted her legs nervously. "I don't usually sing for people, and that one's not really done. I know it's nothing special—"
"It was fucking amazing," he found himself saying. Her eyes shone with suspicion, and then slowly growing pride as they darted over his face, like she was trying to make sure he was being truthful.
"Oh. Thanks."
"I'm serious. You sound like an angel," JJ said, more and more enthusiastic by the minute. Her smile flashed wider, bashful, but undeniably pleased.
"Alright, now you're just trying to suck up to me."
"Totally am not."
They paused, and Kiara was smiling at him over the guitar, bright and beautiful. JJ didn't realize he was grinning back until his cheeks began to ache from the strain.
Kiara cleared her throat, breaking the moment. She shot to her feet, and for one panicked moment, JJ thought she was going to call an end to the night. He knew it had to end sooner or later, but he wasn't ready just yet.
To his relief, she just set the guitar back onto its shelf. Once it was in place, she spun back around towards him.
"So," Kiara said, and her hands splayed out for a moment before she let them fall somewhat awkwardly back to her sides. "Do you want to dance?"
"Right here?" He wondered if he could talk her into singing again while they danced.
She reached for a dusty black music box, glancing at him over her shoulder and shrugging like why not? A hideous classical song belted over the old speakers, and her hands shot out to turn the dial so the volume didn't attract every teacher in the building.
"Jesus, Kiara." JJ pretended to cover his ears. Even so, he couldn't ignore how nice her name felt on his lips.
Kiara directed the CD to a slightly less awful strumming of instruments, glaring at him. Still not something JJ would pick, but at least it didn't make him want to rip out his eardrums.
"There aren't really many options here."
She approached him, and he at first thought maybe she would reach out and grab his hand again like she had earlier. She appeared to think better of it though, he realized, with some level of humiliation, when her hand hovered in the air between them, questioning.
JJ swallowed, and then he'd taken her hand in his, sweeping her forward to wrap his other around her hip. He heard a breath whoosh through her lips. He covered his nerves that he'd overstepped with a lazy grin.
Kiara recovered quickly. She beamed back, and the welcome weight of her free hand settled on his shoulder. He never imagined being this close to her, but he could smell the coconut notes of her shampoo and count the strands in her hair that were lighter from the summer sun.
Her gaze turned solemn. "How don't I know who you are?" She sounded genuinely concerned, and JJ hoped his palms weren't sweating.
"Dunno. Probably better you don't."
"I'm serious. I feel like such a bitch." He could tell she meant it.
Apparently, she couldn't tell he was totally serious too. She was looking at him in a way that made him feel like he'd get down on his knees and confess anything she wanted, and that was not in his forecast for tonight.
JJ leaned forward, dragging Kiara into a sudden dip that left her erupting with laughter. "Oh my god—whiplash? Really? That's your move?"
He pulled her closer, half pretending he was someone else. Which, wasn't he pretty much for the night? "I've got so many moves. So many." He made sure his breath ghosted her ear, and he didn't think he imagined the shiver than ran down her neck.
Still, Kiara nudged his face away, scoffing. "Oh, please." Her chin fell onto his shoulder, and she was suddenly pressed so close to him JJ was sure she could hear his heart hammering in his chest. "Are you okay with it being me?"
Her voice waivered, and for the first time, JJ was fully able to connect Kiara with the secretly sensitive girl he'd been texting for months. He rubbed circles on her back, breath nearly catching when he brushed warm skin. "Yeah," he admitted. "You're great, Kie."
Kiara raised her head back off his shoulder, and her face was glowing. "You called me Kie."
"Oh. My bad," JJ said, hand stilling on her back momentarily. "Keytohappiness, Kie."
She worked her lip. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, hers flickered to his mouth and back up again. "I kinda like it."
JJ couldn't hold back the smile playing at his lips. He probably would've come up with a response had his life not flashed before his eyes with the shine of a flashlight suddenly beaming straight through the window in the classroom door.
"Oh, shit. It's Gary," he realized.
Kiara squinted into the light, shielding her eyes. She looked from him to the door, mildly alarmed. "Who?"
"We gotta go!"
And then he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist, tugging her straight out of the classroom and past the baffled school security guard.
A shout of, "Hey, you kids get back here!" carried down the hall after them, but JJ was experienced enough to know that Gary would never be able to keep up with them.
"Fat chance, man!" he yelled back, and Kiara pinched his arm.
"Shut up, shut up!" she hissed, but it was hard to take her seriously when it came out between fits of laughter. He chuckled and yanked her down a sharp corner. It was a secondary path to the gym, where they could make it inside and blend right in with the crowd.
It was as easy as JJ had predicted. Gary's yells became drowned out by the sounds of the rest of the school, and JJ could just picture him, face red and hunched over against his knees as he realized he could never catch up to the prowlers.
Kiara had stopped next to him, clutching his shoulder from laughing so hard. "Oh my god. I can't believe we just did that." She had to raise her voice to a near shout now that they had rejoined the remainder of the student body.
"The only thing that matters is we didn't get caught," JJ said, only twenty-five percent joking. Okay, he was zero percent joking, especially because she didn't look mad.
Whatever else he may have been planning to say got caught in his throat when her hand worked its way out of his grip around her wrist and slid down to intertwine their fingers instead. Her face had softened again.
"That was kind of the most fun I've had in… Probably ever," she said, and his chest swelled with pride and probably a little bit of awe.
"Oh…" JJ squeezed her hand back, experimentally, and her smile widened. "You're welcome."
"So," Kiara started, stepping closer to him. She was biting her lip. "Do we want to do this again?"
JJ stared at her. Kiara Carrera was watching him with hopeful eyes, and it hit him like a sledgehammer that this girl was just about everything he'd ever want, but… He wouldn't be what she wanted. Not really.
He couldn't imagine watching her expression fall when she realized who he was. That he couldn't even afford to take her out on a proper date without picking up an extra shift. Even if by some miracle, his identity didn't sway her, a girl like her deserved better than cheap takeout and cancelled plans.
She sensed his hesitation. "If you don't want to, that's okay. But I want to."
"I do too," JJ said, stupidly, and she apparently didn't realize he was struggling to add the 'but'. Her face broke back out into a relieved smile.
"Thank god. I thought you were about to dump me already," Kiara joked, and holy shit, her fingertips were skirting his jaw, creepy towards his mask—
JJ wasn't sure what would've happened next. He had an inkling, and it would have been monumentally stupid, but… he couldn't say he didn't kind of wish the shrill, horrible dinging on his phone couldn't have waited another five minutes to bring him hurdling back to reality.
They leapt apart, and JJ fumbled with his phone. It was midnight.
"Shit," he muttered, shoving the device back into a pocket. He had to find John B, right fucking away. They'd driven the Twinkie there, and he had the keys, of course.
"What is it?" Kiara asked, her eyebrows furrowed. "Is everything okay?"
"Look, I've gotta go. I'm sorry."
"Wait! Seriously?"
The small part of JJ that wasn't spiraling into a panic at the realization that his dad might already be home, that he should've left at least ten minutes ago, realized what an asshole move it was to break into a run. He did it anyway, pushing past gyrating bodies.
"I'm really sorry!" he yelled, already beginning to lose sight of Kiara in the crowd.
It was probably for the best. This way, she'd probably be pissed enough to not think about him much after the night was over, and it would make his inevitable dropping off the face of the earth easier for her.
But Kiara was more stubborn that he gave her credit for.
"Hey, at least tell me who you are! Wait!" She was losing him, fast, but he could still see her eyes on him from where she struggled to push through the crowd as efficiently as he did. It seemed her enormous ball gown was a hindrance, but he could make out her glare, clear as day.
John B was not where he expected him to be.
A scream echoed throughout the room, and a crowd of people near the punch bowl lurched. Two bodies toppled around on the floor, and JJ paused his sprint long enough to spot a familiar head of chocolate curls.
"Topper, stop!" someone screeched, and it was Sarah Cameron. Her angel corset was stained red, like someone had knocked the entire punch bowl on her, and her hands were in her hair. He wasn't sure why she was giving Topper orders, because John B was definitely the one on top, socking the other boy firmly in the face.
JJ was staring, dumbstruck, when someone yanked on the back of his shoulders. His stomach dropped, but he was only met with Pope's frantic gaze. "Thank goodness you're here. You've got to stop him, or we are so going to get thrown out—"
JJ's hands were on John B's arms almost immediately. He was still swinging, grunting with the effort to keep going at Topper, who was rolling around on the floor clutching at his nose. "Come on, bro. You can beat his ass later, but I've gotta get out of here now."
"But—"
He didn't spot Kiara, but she was bound to show up any second now. "Now."
The run to the Twinkie was a blur. Teachers were shouting, Topper's friends were screaming threats, and he could still hear Kiara begging for him to wait just a second, which he was sure he'd never forget. A weight lifted off his chest when he was sprawled in the familiar moth-eaten seats of the Twinkie.
They peeled out of the parking lot with a screech of tires, heading in the direction of JJ's house.
"We're expelled," Pope deadpanned. "We're definitely expelled."
"He wouldn't let go of Sarah, and she kept asking him to stop," John B raved, and his arms were shaking. JJ had never seen him so angry. Normally, he was the designated short fuse of the friend group.
"Just drive, dude." It had to be at least ten after by now. He reached for his phone, and his fingers dropped straight through… Shit. The hole.
His phone was long gone.
Keytohappiness [12:32 am]: Hey. Is everything okay?
Keytohappiness [3:27 pm]: I hope you aren't leaving me on read to be a jackass and it's just because I have your phone.
Not only had he run out on her at the dance like the place was on fire, but now he was avoiding her.
Kiara had to find him. It sounded stupid, but she'd never once felt a connection with someone the way she had with him, had never been able to talk to someone the way she did him. It had seemed too good to be true, but impossibly, talking to him in person had been even easier than over text.
She had only three sure-fire clues to help her find him.
1. He had dropped his phone, and she had it. It was an iPhone 5c, but it was locked tight.
2. He was blond.
3. He had probably seen his fair share of detentions.
She was also starting with the athletic teams, because he had to play a sport. Had to. He had been built under his costume, and when his fingers had brushed hers while they danced, she'd definitely felt calluses.
"Did his ass look like it would look good in baseball pants?" Sarah was laid on her back on her king sized bed, feet propped straight up against the headboard and her nose in their freshman yearbook.
Kiara didn't have to think about it for long. "Definitely."
"Michael Miller?"
"This guy is blond."
"Michael is a little strawberry!" Sarah's head tilted as she squinted at the yearbook. She was on the baseball team's page, no doubt. She'd had a knock down drag out with Topper the night of the dance, resulting in a breakup and her burying all of her pent up energy into getting Kiara a boyfriend instead.
She also couldn't stop talking about the oddly heroic guy who'd yanked Topper off of her when he'd had a vice grip on her arm, but seemed keen to find Kiara's mystery man first.
"Definitely not Michael Miller," Kiara reaffirmed. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, self-conscious. "And he had amazing eyes."
Sarah glanced up from the yearbook to stare at her, and Kiara pretended it didn't mean anything. That she wasn't in as deep as she was.
"What about Daniel Calhoun?"
Kiara wrinkled her nose. "Ew. No. I can't stand him."
Plus, she thought back to how she'd started talking to this guy in the first place. They'd been arguing over a boat motor he was putting back together. Daniel Calhoun couldn't even name the parts if someone paid him.
Of course, maybe he was callused from working manually, and not sports at all…
"Andrew Fox?"
"I don't think so." But could she rule it out for sure? "I don't know. Maybe."
Kiara ran her fingers over her eyes, and Sarah frowned sympathetically. "Hey, we'll find him. He'll probably text you as soon as he gets a new phone. He doesn't know you have his."
She really hoped so. She'd never imagined she'd be the girl practically begging for a guy's attention.
Keytohappiness [7:07 am]: I really hate you for making me the type of girl who messages someone who leaves her on read.
"Holy shit. Kiara Carrera?"
John B had repeated that exact phrase at least ten times.
"Shut up, shut up!" JJ scowled at John B, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. Mike was nowhere to be seen, but the last place he wanted Kiara to figure out who he was was from her father. He was taking zero chances.
"Sorry." John B lowered his voice. "Holy shit."
JJ still couldn't believe it himself. He'd had the nicest night of his life in recent memory, and he'd made it home hours before his dad. Luke hadn't stumbled through the door until it was pushing three am.
It was now Monday morning, and JJ was finally off house arrest. He had no idea how he was going to make up the difference in the power bill and manage to scrounge up a new phone. Maybe if he could find someone pawning a stolen one…
"I know. What the fuck, right?"
John B was still shaking his head. Today, he was the one sporting the black eye. Apparently Topper had given it to him before he gained the upper hand in their tussle. "So, what did she say about you being you?"
"Nothing."
"That's awesome, man. Just please don't screw up and get us fired."
"No, I mean nothing, because she doesn't know it was me," JJ clarified. He scrubbed the table he was cleaning harder than was strictly necessary. It was a slow day, which gave him entirely too much time to dwell. JJ fucking hated dwelling. He preferred to be on the move, to have something to distract himself with.
"Wait…" John B frowned the way he did when Pope tried to explain a complicated math problem to him, and he tried to pay attention just to be polite. "So when are you talking to her?"
"Uh, never."
They stared at each other. John B was glaring now. "But I thought you said you guys had a good time!"
"Come on bro. She doesn't want to be seen with someone like me."
He didn't even have to think it over. There was no way in God's Green Earth that he could tell her who he was. She was expecting Prince Charming, not some gutter rat from the poor side of town that would have all of her rich friends turning up their noses.
"Well, looks like now's your chance to find out," John B said, and JJ followed his gaze absently to the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of Kiara and Sarah meandering in.
He spun around towards the window and away from them, tugging his hat further over his face like it could make him become invisible. "Shit!"
"They're not even looking over here," John B said. If anything, he sounded disappointed about it. "You don't think Sarah saw me Saturday, do you?"
JJ elbowed him in the ribs. "Go see what they want."
"Fine," John B surrendered, rubbing as his side. JJ suspected he was secretly glad for an excuse to talk to Sarah. Or stare at her up close, or whatever the hell ran through his friend's brain.
JJ made a very big point of not looking while John B approached the girls. Okay, so maybe he snuck a peek. Or a couple.
Kiara had her hair pulled half up in a bun that day, and she appeared to give John B a small smile when he handed her and Sarah each a wrapping from the kitchen. Whatever they were getting, Mike had apparently had it ready for them.
She didn't even look in JJ's direction, which he should be grateful for, but after the dance, returning to the periphery of her existence left him feeling empty. He glared down at the spotless surface of the table. He'd never cleaned something so hard in his life.
The girls left just as quickly as they'd come, on track to be more on time for class that the two of them. John B wandered back over to JJ, eyes glazed over and totally dazed out of his mind.
"Well?" JJ prodded, once Kiara was long gone. "What did they want?"
"Biscuits. Sarah got bacon and cheese on hers."
JJ stopped scrubbing. He stared at John B. John B stared back. His eye twitched, and JJ was upon him with a horrible, high-pitched imitation of Sarah's voice. "Oh my hero! The one who fucked up my boyfriend!"
Keytohappiness [12:31 pm]: Today Mrs. Culliver asked me who the 'cute prince' I went to the dance with is… if only I knew, right?
Kiara waited all day for a surprise tap on the shoulder. A nervous clearing of a throat. Anything that would indicate the guy she'd had an amazing time at the dance with had finally approached her to say, Hey, sorry I had to run out on you like that. It's me!
None came.
She'd even gone through the trouble to look extra cute that day. She'd fluffed her curls, had reluctantly asked Sarah to help her choose between two outfits. Sarah had thrived off of her energy all weekend, but the gnawing in Kiara's belly was growing more and more persistent by the hour.
He didn't want to be found.
"Shit, bio was awful. Topper was staring at me the entire time and I just started to feel guilty again, and then I made the mistake of letting him stop me on the way out—Kiara? Are you even listening?"
Kiara blinked out of her trance-like state. She'd been leaned up against the locker next to Sarah's, staring at each face that walked by like maybe she could weed her prince charming out through eye contact.
"Sorry," she said. "I am."
Sarah narrowed her eyes. She swung her arms up into a crossed position, but she didn't look mad. "You are not."
"Topper's being obsessive again. As usual." Kiara tilted her head meaningfully, hoping Sarah would think back on all the times she'd advised her to dump him throughout the past month. She'd known something like this was long coming.
"Hm. Right." Sarah surveyed Kiara again, then whipped out her phone. She leaned back against the lockers, and her skirt road up at the action. Kiara could just picture every guy passing by foaming at the mouth now that she was officially single again. "But I'm still taking matters into my own hands."
Kiara watched warily as Sarah's fingers slid across the screen of her phone. "What are you doing?"
"You'll see."
"Sarah…"
Sarah gave one final, triumphant tap. Her face blossomed into a mischievous smile. "Done."
She flashed the screen for Kiara to see, and her mouth nearly dropped open. Right there, ruining Sarah's million dollar Instagram feed, was a big fat question mark with the caption, "Have you seen Prince Charming? Hot, blond, tall. Last seen at Halloween dance. If found, please contact. Must answer a survey question! No creeps."
"Sarah." Kiara swiped at the phone, which Sarah shoved back into her purse. "Are you serious?"
"He can play hard to get all he wants, but his friends will give him away if nothing else. Guys love to brag."
"Doesn't seem like he thinks I'm much to brag about," Kiara complained. He didn't like who she was. That had to be it, plain and simple, and she really didn't know how to take that other than to be a bit offended. And a lot hurt, if she was being honest.
Sarah gave her a critical once over. "No, he definitely told them about you."
Kiara resisted the urge to groan. She hoped he hadn't told them about the texts reeking of desperation, too.
Keytohappiness [6:43 pm]: Just fyi, that post was not my idea
It had taken JJ hours to discover the Instagram post. Phoneless, he might not have seen it at all if it wasn't for John B running up to him, panting and saying, "You sure she's gonna let this go, huh?"
Because Sarah Cameron had posted it, for all 6,772 of her followers to see, and of course John B was following her. Most of the girls on the cheerleading squad had shared it on their stories, and it had become a topic of small talk around the school. The girls all seemed to think they'd entered into some fucking romantic comedy, as if JJ was cut out to be the romantic lead. They'd lose their shit if they knew it was him, Kiara most of all.
Honestly, he'd fully expected her to go from hurt to full out pissed at him by this point, so the fact that she was still looking for him was… a shock.
He was sure she'd been messaging him. He had no phone to check, and when John B or Pope offered for him to log into his account on theirs, he had refused. He was afraid if he opened that door, the floodgates would pour out and he'd tell her everything like the moron he was. It wouldn't take much, and he wasn't stupid enough to chance it.
Now, Sarah's post had been up for two days, and JJ was working a closing shift at the Wreck sans John B. Mike had not coped well with JJ's lack of a phone; he enjoyed calling him in last minute because he couldn't turn down the money if someone else called out and a replacement was needed, but nothing could be done.
It had been a generally sucky shift. Ernie had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and had been in a piss poor mood, his least favorite family with that horrible screaming toddler had come in, and he'd hardly had a single decent tipper all night.
With his luck, it was only expected that Kiara walk in.
It was only fifteen minutes until closing, so he had a wild hope that she was just looking for Mike. She proved him wrong when she plopped down in her usual seat at the corner of the counter.
And shit. He was the only server left.
She didn't seem to really notice his presence, of course, but seeing Kiara was an entirely different experience when he knew the way she smelled, the way the crinkles around her eyes faded away as her laughter died into a steady, pleased smile. He knew that she had a passion for music, and she was really fucking good at it. She felt like her parents didn't get her, even though she loved them, and she felt alone amongst her friend group. She had a heart so big she had once sent him photos of an injured squirrel she'd picked up off the side of the road and driven personally to a wildlife rehabilitation center.
Fuck.
JJ clenched his jaw and made his way over towards her. He made sure his hat was shadowing his face, but Kiara wasn't really looking anyway. Her chin was propped on her fist like she was deep in thought, and she had on an oversized cheerleading warm-up that was bunched at the sleeves.
"Mint chip shake?" he managed.
For a moment, he wondered if she'd even heard him, but then her eyes drifted to him. "Oh. Sure," she said, sounding resigned.
Thank fuck he found the right cups when he went to grab them this time, but JJ was screaming on the inside. It would only take one double take, one misstep on his part for her to put the puzzle pieces together and call him out on who he was.
And… She was right there. What would happen if he just told her? If John B was right and she wouldn't care, was it worth the risk?
They fell into a silence that was awkward on JJ's part, and likely oblivious on Kiara's. Her face was a little gloomy, like she was in a bad mood. He wondered if that was partly his fault, or if it was unrelated. Maybe she'd had enough thinking about him days ago.
"You ever have a really fucking bad week?" Kiara blurted.
JJ lifted his eyebrows. Her milkshake was done, so he pulled out the can of whipped cream. "Extra whipped cream, then?"
She let out a halfhearted laugh. "Sure."
He held the button down until the foam was extending well over the rim of the cup, and then handed it to her with a slight flourish. No straw, because she always carried her metal one in her purse. "Here you go."
"Thanks."
JJ assumed that would be the last of their interaction, which was already far more than any they'd had maskless. It was almost closing time anyway, and being around her was making him feel like he needed to crawl out of his skin. He reached for the broom, and she surprised him again.
"Need any help? I know Dad won't be any up here."
It took him several moments to realize she was asking if he wanted her to help him close. He shook his head. "Nah. It's fine. Not much left anyway."
He felt her studying him as he brushed up stray crumbs into his dustpan, eyes dark and curious. No sudden recognition flashed in them, though, and JJ was sure that should relieve him. It really didn't.
Kiara didn't take much stock in what he said, because one minute he looked down and she was sipping her shake, legs swinging from her stool, and the next she was wiping down the table the toddler terror had visited. Her nose wrinkled. "The Eatons?"
"Awful screaming brat?"
"Yup." She tossed her paper towels in the trash, leaving the table a lot shinier than JJ probably would have. "I don't miss that."
"I won't miss any of it," he muttered, which was probably stupid, considering he was talking about her family business.
Kiara didn't appear offended, though. She snorted. "I know you like the free food."
"Doesn't hurt." JJ continued sweeping, and she ran over a few stray messes on the remaining tables. "When you coming back?
"When cheer season ends. The football team sucks ass, so… Probably like two weeks." She didn't sound as disappointed as he expected. Cheerleading probably wasn't her favorite thing, he realized, remembering all the times she'd mentioned not totally feeling like she fit in in her friend groups. "Guess this will be a regular thing, huh?"
She raised a wry brow, and he realized she was referring to the two of them closing together. He breathed, "Mhmm."
This easy energy between them reminded him of when they'd hung out at the Halloween dance. It was quieter and less exciting, but the vibe was pleasant, and he surprised himself by realizing he could actually see himself hanging out with this girl.
And this was as him. JJ.
Guilt rushed through him, overwhelming and more than a little embarrassing.
"Kiara, look…" JJ swallowed, and Kiara turned to watch him curiously. He was going to do it. He was really fucking going to do it. "I—"
"Oh, Kiara. Hey," Mike's voice carried from behind them, where he was flipping the lights off in the kitchen. He wrapped an arm around his daughter. "I didn't know you were here."
"Oh, yeah." Kiara glanced at JJ, offering a little quirk of her lips. She added, "I was just talking to JJ."
And suddenly he was a little lightheaded, because she did know his name. Shit. Shit shit shit.
"Oh." Mike gave him a double take. JJ was sure he wasn't thinking anything good. He was every father's walking nightmare, after all. "Everything finished here?"
"Uh, yeah," JJ said, and Kiara nodded. Her mood really had improved significantly from the time she'd walked in the restaurant, and he selfishly wondered if he'd helped boost it.
After he'd no doubt helped ruin it with his second fucking identity, of course.
"See you tomorrow then," Mike said, and it was both a goodbye and a mild warning. He'd overslept for one shift because he had no phone to wake him up…
Kiara gave him a little wave. "See you later."
"Bye." He cleared his throat. "Uh. See you at school."
And yeah. Okay. He totally had to tell her.
Keytohappiness [1:32 am]: Fine. If you want to just drop off the face of the Earth, drop off.
Keytohappiess unsent 'Fine. If you want to just drop off the face of the Earth, drop off'.
JJ and John B tended to skip fifth period for a smoke in the boys' bathroom. Well, JJ always liked to smoke, and John B mostly liked to skive off intro to team sports. By some miracle, they'd convinced Pope to join today, so JJ thought it was as good a time as any to broach the subject.
"So," JJ started, trying to sound casual. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder. It was a near constant habit because one of the straps was hardly hanging on by a few threads. "I talked to her last night."
Thankfully, he didn't have to say who 'her' was. John B and Pope's heads swung towards him, to each other, and then back again.
"Yeah? How'd it go?" John B pressed. The beginning of a grin was pulling at his lips.
"Well, she didn't tell me to go fuck myself, so. Gotta start somewhere, right?"
Pope's eyes were wide. He glanced around the bathroom, like he was making sure it was just them. "Wait. So, are you like, dating Kiara now?"
"No, no, no," JJ correct. He fumbled with his juul, and the familiar citrus flavor relaxed him in the wake of his friends' crazed looks. "I took her order at the Wreck. Had an actual conversation, can you believe it?"
"So you didn't tell her it was you at the dance?" Pope demanded.
John B's face fell. "Come on, JJ."
"Come on, guys. I tried to tell her, like a freaking idiot, and then her dad came over. But she's gonna be pissed when she finds out I'm gearhead. If, I mean."
JJ ran his free hand through his hair while he was talking, no doubt leaving the strands standing on end. It was a very different look than when he'd combed it for the Halloween dance, but he could remember girls leaning in, whispering how sexy it looked like this with the tang of weed hanging off their clothes. He wondered which way Kiara would prefer it.
"Seriously, just give it a try, would you? She's still looking all over for you," John B argued.
"I'm sorry," Pope said. "Did you just say gear head?"
"Her dad probably won't like it either. I'm sure he'd love to fire me," JJ continued, completely ignoring Pope. He'd come up with his username in the sixth grade, and he used it everywhere. Sue him.
"If the name gear head didn't scare her off, nothing will," Pope muttered.
John B leaned back against the cinderblock walls, crossing his arms. He declared, "I think you need to take a chance on romance."
"Oh, wow, okay," Pope said, and JJ scowled in disbelief. He spun the dial on the sink just to flick water droplets in John B's face.
"What, man? Please don't ever say those words to me again."
"It's a little pathetic," Pope agreed.
"Seriously," John B stressed. He threw up his hands. "Either you tell her, and it works out, or you tell her, and she's not someone you care about anyway. Right?"
JJ knew he was right. He'd always been someone who strived not to give a fuck what others thought of him. Sure, it stung when people heard the name Maybank and whispered behind their hands, but it stung a lot less when he hid it behind a smile or a sharp tongued retort.
Truthfully... If Kiara was the person he thought she was, then it wouldn't matter to her. He didn't want to admit that maybe what he was afraid of wasn't that she would turn him down, but that she wouldn't.
She deserved… better, frankly. He didn't want people whispering about her, too, just because he was standing next to her.
"Yeah, man," Pope said, and his voice had softened now. "And don't you kind of think you owe her the truth after all of this?"
JJ focused on the tap tap tap of the sink. There had been an on and off leak there for weeks, now. "Okay," he relented. "I'll try to figure out how to tell her."
Whatever relief or dismay the boys might have displayed at his decision was cut short by the bell. They might be able to skip team sports, but unfortunately, history was not so easy to get away with.
"That's great news." Pope hefted his bag back onto his shoulders. "But I am so not missing another class."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go." JJ rolled his eyes, and almost ran smack into Rafe Cameron as he rounded the corner to exit the bathroom.
"Oh, hey. Didn't see you there," Rafe said, and if it was possible, there was something even worse than usual glinting in his eyes. "As usual."
JJ prickled with unease, his fight or flight senses kicking in.
"Fuck off," he said, and shoved his way around Rafe. John B and Pope scurried after him, John B glowering back in Rafe's direction and Pope looking around like the rest of his posse was going to appear to jump them like a pack of rabid dogs.
They didn't, and JJ pushed Rafe to the back of his mind in favor of wondering how in the hell he was going to approach Kiara.
Keytohappiness [12:58 am]: Look… I'm sorry. I'm being annoying. If you want your phone back, I'd love to give it to you. You don't ever have to talk to me again after but I feel like I'm holding it hostage
It was Thursday night, and Kiara and Sarah were laid back on Sarah's enormous bed with rom coms playing like a bad train wreck on her television. Sarah was nursing a glass of wine, but Kiara had stuck to a coke, since it was a school night and she still had to drive home. The lights were so dim Kiara could no longer make out the exact color of Sarah's pajama bottoms.
Sarah called what they were doing moving on. Kiara called it wallowing. But since they'd both effectively just gone through a breakup of sorts and Sarah's was more official, her say edged Kiara's out.
"If we're both single when we're 35, we should just get married," Sarah said. She was already beginning to slur her words, but she always had been a bit of a lightweight.
Kiara patted her shoulder. "Sure."
As if Sarah would stay single more than a month. Two, max.
"I still think we're gonna find your guy," Sarah proclaimed, and Kiara noticed her glancing at her phone. She'd finally had to block Topper's number, but that hadn't stopped her from constantly checking for updates on Kiara's "prince charming".
"I say we both start from scratch." Kiara was tired of waiting. She had already put herself out there more than she ever thought was possible for her, and he hadn't taken it. His loss, as far as she was concerned.
Still sucked, though.
"I dunno," Sarah said. "That guy that punched Topper? He looked kind of cute from behind."
Kiara didn't support violence, but she did support a man who supported a woman saying no. Wasn't that really the more important of the two? She gave a little nod of encouragement.
The scene on the TV shifted to a dramatic love confession in the rain, and Kiara pursed her lips. Men in real life had no guts to do such a thing. Her mind drifted back to Rafe, then, and she wrinkled her nose. She took it back: either they had no guts, or entirely too many.
She threw the comforter off the legs and shifted so she was hanging off the bed. "Snacks?"
There were some veggie straws in the Cameron's snack cabinet that Kiara had been eyeballing on and off all afternoon, and if there was a time to indulge, this was it. Sarah frowned at the TV, then down at her half empty glass of wine.
"No, I think I'm good. Thanks."
Kiara padded down the winding staircase to the kitchen, a familiar path she'd followed dozes of times. Even so, she still never got over just how grand the Cameron house was, especially since Sarah's new stepmother Rose had been added to the mix. She had expensive taste and didn't hesitate to capitalize on Ward's wealth.
Kiara had her nose in the snack cabinet and was debating on whether or not she should grab some fudge rounds too when she was interrupted.
"Hey there, Kiara."
Kiara jumped at the sound of Rafe's voice. Speak of the devil.
He had materialized around the corner of the kitchen and was leering at her from across the counter. The threat of running into him and having him make some sketchy comment had always been the worst thing about staying over at Sarah's house, especially now that she had actively turned him down.
He looked way too satisfied to see her considering the tension their recent interactions had carried. It made the back of Kiara's neck prickle.
Because it was his house, and she couldn't exactly tell him to get the fuck out, she muttered an unenthusiastic greeting. "Hey."
Rafe slunk around the island sink, and she forced herself to stand her ground. He was playing at something, she knew.
He proved her right when he said, "So. You heard from gearhead lately?"
Kiara froze. The hand holding the veggie straws dropped them back into the cabinet, forgotten. "What did you just say?"
"Oh, you know. Your little texting prince charming the whole school is talking about."
"How do you know that name?" she asked, mind running through a million scenarios, each worse than the last. Was Rafe behind this whole thing? Had he and his cronies somehow done this to sabotage her, to make her look stupid? Was that why she was being ghosted now?
"Relax," Rafe urged. He was wearing a smirk, watching her like a cat who'd batted a mouse into a corner. He was toying with her, trying to get her to beg for more information. She didn't even have the presence of mind to back away when he leaned in, way too close for comfort, to whisper, "I happen to know who he is."
Logically, Kiara knew nothing good could come out of this situation. Rafe was a snake, but her ears were ringing and she needed to know.
"Who?" she demanded.
His smirk widened.
JJ had accepted Kiara having a presence at the Wreck as a fact of life as long as he worked there. Hell, after the other night, he almost even craved it.
What he didn't expect was her storming in, hair flying around her head and wrath in her every movement. She was in little sea turtle printed pants that were almost definitely pajamas, and her eyes were zeroed in on him. She marched right up to where he was refilling ketchup bottles and slammed something down in front of him.
His heart sank to his stomach when he made out the shape of his phone.
"What the fuck?" she whisper-yelled, and a few lingering customers shot them offended glances.
He wondered if he should play dumb. Try to be funny and make a joke about her finding his phone
What came out of his mouth wasn't nearly as impressive. "Oh, shit."
"Seriously?" Kiara snapped, and fury flashed in her eyes, hot flames raging. "You made me look so stupid here the other day!"
His jaw clenched. His fingers crept to the back of his neck, and yeah, he wasn't sure how he imagined this going, but it sure as hell wasn't this. This was his worst-case scenario that had been set ablaze and then cast down to hell.
"I was gonna tell you," JJ said. And then, a word he hated saying, "Sorry."
"When?" Her annoyance hadn't died down, and she appeared to be searching for something in his face that he wasn't sure she'd find.
JJ liked to consider himself a brilliant liar. He could bullshit his way through, tell her he had something planned, but he had a feeling she'd see right through it even if he tried. He settled on honesty. "I don't know, okay?"
"That's just great." Her eyes were shining, like she was getting so angry she might be near tears. "You could've just told me 'thanks but no thanks', you know."
Kiara spun around, heading for the door. "Kiara," he called, but it went ignored. If anything, she only picked up her pace. He caught a flash of her hand rubbing at her eye that made him feel like the biggest piece of shit ever shat.
Her progress halted at the door, but it wasn't because he'd swayed her.
She did a slow about face and stomped back over, fists bunched at her sides until she shoved something into his chest. "And take your stupid phone back already."
And then she did leave, without once looking back.
JJ was numb through the close of the shift and the drive to his house. It was really over, ended on the worst possible note. He'd braced himself for it, but somehow, that didn't make the wound nip at him less.
It was that stupid fucking thread of hope that just maybe something would turn out in his favor, just once.
When JJ pushed open the door of his house, the first thing that registered was that the house was lit up. His stomach rolled with unease.
The slim hope that his dad wouldn't notice him coming home was squashed when Luke came into focus. He was sitting on their ratty old couch, nursing a beer bottle and counting a wad of bills. "Finally decided to show your face, huh?"
"I was working, Dad."
"Need to be doing more if it," Luke grunted.
There was no scenario in which their power had been turned on legally, which didn't bother JJ on principle. The idea that Luke had had his grubby hands in whatever he'd been selling, though, was terrifying. He was at his worst when he was under the influence, and his red rimmed, watery eyes weren't a promising sign.
"And that bullshit school thing? It's taking up time that could be spent earning your keep."
JJ bristled. It wasn't that he had never thought of dropping out of school, of living up to his family legacy of high school drop outs and under the table drug dealers. High school was a bunch of bullshit, but if it gave him even the slightest amount of time out of his house, if it gave him a better chance of getting out permanently, he wasn't even going to consider ditching it.
Because he'd had a really shit day, he couldn't help but run his mouth. "No. I already bring in more than you."
And that was his mistake.
JJ hated him. He didn't hate him. He hated him.
He really fucking wished he could hate him.
Kiara felt so stupid. Of course it was JJ Maybank. It became clear as day when she thought about it. The lines of his jaw, the slope of his nose. And he was ridiculously attractive, something she had somehow never consciously acknowledged very much until she was looking him in the eye and connecting him with Prince Charming.
She wondered if he had told his friends about her closing a shift with him, laughing at how she was dumb enough to totally miss that it was him. The thought stung with betrayal.
But maybe if she was self-involved enough to not even realize it was him, she deserved to be mocked. Maybe that was the very reason JJ had no interest in talking to her once he realized who she was.
A tiny but growing part of her regretted how rash she'd acted as the weekend inched by and the next week at school began. She didn't regret snapping at him, but maybe she could've at least stuck around to hear what he had to say afterwards.
Sarah hadn't known what to say. Kiara suspected she didn't really approve based on her remarks about her dad hiring JJ from the other week, but Sarah was an expert in bad boy decisions. She had no room to judge, so once she'd recovered from her shock, she'd simply wrapped an arm around Kiara's neck and asked if there was anything she could do.
There wasn't, but based on the curious stares from the rest of the cheer squad, Kiara suspected Sarah was keeping their questions at bay. No doubt Rafe had fed the gossip mill about Kiara's tryst with JJ Maybank.
She wasn't sure what pissed her off more: his ghosting of her, or the fact that the school was trying to make a scandal of the situation.
Kiara had been lucky enough Friday and then with the guise of the weekend to have not seen JJ since she'd confronted him at the Wreck, but like any luck, her time had ran out. She zeroed in on him almost immediately at lunch on Monday.
One of her first thoughts was that seeing him in regular clothes was surreal. Even from across the lunchroom, she could see that he was in a stained t-shirt and cargo shorts, a far cry from his apron at the Wreck and even farther from his Prince Charming costume.
He was at a table with two other guys, and he had his head flat on the table, making dramatic gestures with his hands. His friends were exchanging concerned glances, and she had a sick suspicion that he must be hung over.
When they'd been texting, he'd made various jokes about how he'd like to be drunk for this class or that class, but she never actually got the sense that he did it. There was a pang of guilt in her chest; she hoped he wasn't having such a hard time because of her.
Getting a glimpse of him was… hard.
Kiara had never gone through a real breakup, had never known true heartbreak. But now, with the crumbing hole in her chest, she thought maybe she understood the times she'd had to comfort Sarah crying in the bathroom, or when Scarlet had refused to get up and do the dances for cheerleading.
Heartbreak sucked ass.
She didn't realize she'd paused in the middle of the cafeteria until Rafe Cameron was standing right in front of her. He was looking smarmy as always. Perhaps even more than usual, and Kiara's lip curled almost at the sight of him. Her patience with his presence was seriously thinning.
"He's a piece of shit, Kiara," Rafe soothed, and she knew without asking that he'd seen who she was looking at. "Just look at him. He's gonna end up in a jail cell next to his old man."
A brief, satisfactory vision flashed through Kiara's mind of her salad and milk sopping right through Rafe's over gelled hair. Her fingers twitched in temptation. Violence is never the answer, she repeated to herself, over and over.
She settled for glaring at him. "Not everyone is as privileged as you, Rafe."
As she shoved her way around him, swerving for a deserted hallway at the last minute instead of their usual lunch table, Kiara's thoughts drifted back to JJ.
Maybe she should talk to him. Give him another chance. Despite how pissed off Rafe's comment had made her, she did know that JJ didn't seem to have the easiest time of things. Maybe there was something else going on, and he hadn't wanted to bring her right into the mix. Even though the days that passed after the Halloween dance had seemed like a year, it really hadn't even been a full week that he'd left her hanging.
She didn't think she could put herself out there again, especially not so soon, but… If he made an attempt to make up with her, she'd hear him out. It was decided.
She bit her lip and slid down the cinderblock wall, alone with her thoughts.
JJ's life had always been a mess. One enormous red flag after another, but somehow this felt like a low even he hadn't reached before.
His ribs ached and his head was pounding and he didn't know how much more of his dad he could take. He was only sixteen. He'd nearly drunk himself into a stupor the night before, just because he might as well add another check in the column for his long, long list of screw-ups.
The fact that the girl he was really into hated his guts was really just one last big fuck you from the universe.
Even now, after he'd ditched his afternoon classes in favor of wallowing at the hellhole he called a house, the ceiling was still spinning if he moved too quickly. His one, single salvation was the fact that his dad was still long passed out in his bedroom.
His cellphone dinged, which he ignored, because the thing had brought him nothing but hell these past few weeks. He'd seen Kiara's messages that had gone unread, had typed out a million different explanations before remembering that his fucking rib was probably fractured. After that, he'd deleted the app altogether.
It was time to close the page on that, for good.
The tap tap tap that resounded from his window a few minutes later didn't really surprise him. The sight of John B and Pope, eyes peaking over the ledge, surprised him even less. They were stubborn little bitches when they wanted to be.
He yanked the window open. "I can't come out."
John B ignored him, pushing his way inside. Pope stumbled his way in after him, much less gracefully, and JJ didn't miss him taking in the destroyed state of JJ's room. The punched in walls, the photograph that had been ripped apart and then taped back together. Normally, he tried to keep them away, so Pope had never really seen the inside of his room.
"Well, just make yourselves at home."
John B crossed his arms. "This is an intervention."
"Did Pope teach you that word on the way over?" JJ bit back, because he was angry and upset and tired of everything. John B had gone so long without batting an eye, so he didn't know why he'd decided to come out looking all concerned all of a sudden.
"Come on, man." Pope's voice was as soothing as it could be, considering the circumstances. "Look at your life."
"I know it's a shit show, thanks."
"It doesn't have to be this, JJ," John B said. JJ wondered when he had finally realized what this was. Perhaps when he'd found him Saturday night, black and blue and so drunk he could hardly slur two words together. "Come on. Enough is enough."
John B started rifling through his closet while he talked, and JJ scowled in disbelief. He didn't bother to play dumb, though. "He's my dad. What the hell am I supposed to do?"
John B emerged from his closet, mangy duffle bag in hand. He started shoving t-shirts in, some of which JJ had stolen fair and square straight from the Routledge household, and JJ shot to his feet. He tried not to let his wince of pain be visible, ignored Pope reaching out in concern.
John B wasn't swayed. "Move in with me."
JJ tried to hide how he faltered. His eyes latched onto the bag, burning. "Your dad doesn't need another piece of shit hanging around."
"You're already there half the time anyway," John B argued. "And he's never home. He doesn't care."
"And if you don't want to stay with John B, you can stay with me, man."
"You're not staying here," John B said, like the matter was settled.
JJ looked between his two friends, both now with bits of his clothes hanging out of their hands. They were earnest, their expressions oozing concern. He wiped at his nose.
"Whatever. Fine. Maybe for a while. But let's go before my dad wakes up."
Big John didn't let out so much as a grunt when the three of them carried JJ's bag in to John B's room, all of the possessions he gave a fuck about tossed in there. It was a pathetic few, but it felt like a million bucks with the weight slowly lifting off JJ's shoulders.
John B tossed a ragged old sleeping bag at him after Pope had gone home. It smelled like mothballs. "Put this on the pullout. Your ass isn't getting my bed."
And JJ pretended it wasn't a tear of relief that leaked out, even once he was settled in the blessed silence of the Routledge living room. He was alone and in the dark, but for the first time in a long time, things were looking up.
Piece by piece, maybe he could pull some semblance of a life together.
There had been a pep rally during sixth period for the last football game of the year, but as far as cheerleaders went, Kiara didn't consider herself to be feeling very peppy.
She'd filled out an early application last night, at her mother's prodding, to a local college with a renowned business program. She still hadn't figured out a way to break the no fucking way news to her, and on top of that, Royce Greensburg, an attractive, nice guy from the golf team had asked her to go to a party after the game with him. She'd said no without even thinking twice.
Sarah had been distraught at the news, but this thing with JJ really had her heart going in a million different directions. It was going to take more than a few days to sort it out.
"We're still going to that party," Sarah said, head half in the backseat of her car. They were digging out their makeup bags so they could go touch up in the locker room before the game with the rest of the squad. "I'm serious. We've sat around enough this week."
"Sounds good," Kiara said, even though it wasn't the greatest proposal she'd ever heard. She enjoyed partying, when the mood was right, but house parties could get really stuffy and cliquey ridiculously fast. Maybe the alcohol, at least, would do her some good. "Time to get over… it."
It being JJ.
Sarah had progressed to stage three of her own breakup mentality: her second round of anger. Kiara, however, was still floating relentlessly in limbo, wondering what ifs and whys.
It was only Friday, had only been a little over a week since she'd confronted him. Like any addict, she figured she deserved a little time for the cold turkey aspect to settle in. Before the Halloween dance fiasco, she'd talked to him nearly all day, everyday, about things she'd never talked about with anyone. She deserved some time, damn it.
And she must have been hallucinating, because there JJ was, striding towards her across the parking lot. His hands were folded into the pockets of his shorts and there was a determined grit to his jaw.
"Kiara," he said, and Sarah's jaw practically hit the floor. She'd gone still where she was leaned over inside the car.
Kiara's mouth went dry. "JJ—"
"Look, I'm sorry I acted like a jackass, but I was dealing with some shit. I shouldn't have left you hanging," JJ cut her off, and his voice was stiff. She could tell he had prepared this speech. Her own voice was nowhere to be found, lost in the fact that he was here in front of her.
JJ's eyes fluttered where they looked into hers, like he was struggling to maintain eye contact, but he didn't look away. "But I still think you're the coolest girl I've ever met, and you're like, ridiculously fucking talented. So I hope you don't think you did anything wrong or whatever."
Kiara's heart was screaming in her chest. She couldn't move, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more the determination fell off JJ's face.
He swallowed, finally looking away. "So, yeah. Just wanted to tell you that. I won't bother you again."
His eyes lingered on her warm up, like he was imagining her at the game later that night. A totally different universe than wherever he'd end up.
She needed to say something. Wanted to say, no, you fucking idiot, the point is I want you to never leave me alone, but her body seemed to have stopped functioning.
He turned to go like he was running from hellfire, and as cliché as it was, Kiara felt like a very important part of her floated away after him.
"What the hell was that?" Sarah screeched, as soon as he was out of earshot. She reemerged from the car, and her hand grasped Kiara's arm. "Did that just happen?"
"Shit," Kiara muttered, faintly.
Sarah searched her face. "I think you should go after him."
Kiara felt like crying. "I- I can't."
It was… it was horrible timing. They had to be down on the field shortly, and she hadn't even started getting ready. And she knew, in the back of her mind, if she followed him… there was no going back.
"Kiara…"
She released a steadying breath. She nodded, mostly to herself. "I'm going to take care of this after the game, though."
If he'd still hear her out, that was. There was too much shit up in the air between them, and now that she'd seen the raw emotion on his face, she knew without a doubt that idea that he didn't care about her at all was very much false.
JJ quit his second job at the mechanic. He had wanted to drop the Wreck, not only because he liked the work less, but also because he really didn't want to deal with the implications that would come with having to work alongside Kiara shortly. But unfortunately, the hours there were more consistent, and Mike was more willing to work around his school schedule. Assuming Kiara didn't force her dad to fire him, that was.
He hadn't heard a peep from his father. He was sure to be happy to have JJ out of the house, at least until he realized there was a significant lack of cash flowing into his hands.
Pope had convinced him Luke wasn't worth confronting, wasn't worth wasting his breath on. JJ knew he was right, logically, but well… He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.
He had confronted Kiara though. Had gotten the things weighing on his chest about her out, so he could continue trying this new leaf concept. He felt both lighter and incredibly nauseous at the thought, though.
Her expression had been impossible to make out. He'd rendered her completely silent. Probably, she didn't give a fuck about him anymore, but he very much gave a fuck about her, so it was necessary.
JJ realized he didn't want to become Luke Maybank. Bottling his emotions, keeping that anger and hurt in and letting it eat away at his insides like he had been doing wasn't the way to achieve that. Kicking the habit wasn't going to happen overnight, but baby steps.
"I say we go to the game, then hit up Owens's party afterwards," John B suggested, while they were crashing outside his house Friday afternoon.
"Uh, since when do we go to football games?" Pope inquired.
JJ took a drag from his juul, then slowly released. He'd commandeered the entire hammock to himself, and John B had let it go without argument for once. He'd seen JJ's face after his confrontation with Kiara and had been cutting him slack. Either that, or he just didn't want to push his luck.
"A party with all the people we hate? No thanks," JJ muttered. Not to mention Kiara would no doubt be there.
John B kept shooting JJ furtive looks. Normally, it would be more along JJ's role to suggest such boneheaded ideas. There would be free booze at the party, for one, but the people? He was less equipped to deal with them than usual.
Running into Rafe Cameron would be even worse than running into Kiara. He was always bursting with a snide comment, and now that JJ suspected he was the one who told Kiara who he was and made everything go to hell, well… it wouldn't take much for him to snap.
"The game and then we get wasted alone after?" John B amended.
"Still trying to figure out why we want to go to a football game." Pope had started half drowning them out in favor of playing some trendy new game on his phone. He grumbled under his breath when his character got skewered.
JJ leaned his head back, slinging an arm over his eyes. He remembered Kiara matter-of-factly informing him how the football team sucked ass. "Only upside is seeing Topper get creamed."
Rafe had technically on the team too at one point, but had long since quit. He'd declared it was because the team lost every game, but JJ had little doubt he'd spent most games warming the bench anyway. The idea of Rafe working hard, getting sweaty and contributing to winning a game was fucking ridiculous.
"Come on, JJ. You finally have a Friday night off, and normal teenagers go to football games."
Pope looked up at that. "Are you classifying yourself as normal?"
John B probably wouldn't even watch the game. Not with Sarah on the field. That meant Kiara would be there too, and JJ really didn't want to see her again. But he also wanted to prove he didn't give a fuck that the school was whispering behind his back even more than usual, probably having come up with at least thirty-two different scenarios in which Kiara had brutally dumped him as soon as she realized he'd been deceived.
And fuck. If he was going to have to start sharing shifts with her, he might as well keep ripping the band aide off. There were no breaks in his future, so why not start now?
"Fine. But we're cutting out early," he said, and Pope groaned.
The game, being the last one of the season, was packed despite the team's piss poor record and the mass of clouds twisting in the sky, promising rain if they were lucky and a storm if they weren't.
A lot of kids came to socialize, JJ guessed, but he couldn't imagine why they'd make a habit of gathering here to do it. He didn't prefer to extend the hours he spent with most of the people at school.
And most of the guys on the team probably had families that actually gave a fuck about them, meaning they'd come to the game. He had no doubt the Carreras were there somewhere, probably sitting with the other wealthy families in the school district and subtly exchanging no, actually, my kid is better than yours remarks. At least, Anna was sure to be participating in that kind of talk. Mike seemed comparatively unimpressed by how rich this family or that family was. He wore a scowl whenever Rafe Cameron walked into the Wreck, and that was enough to earn a smidge of JJ's respect.
"Look at us, getting the high school experience," John B said, and he had to raise his voice to a near yell. The rumble of the crowd was constant; they were reacting to the game, to each other, to anything and everything.
"Thanks. I hate it," Pope announced. His arms were crossed, and he was eyeing the pep club, gathered a few rows below, to make sure they didn't pounce.
Like some sick, twisted form of magnetism, JJ's eyes sought out Kiara almost. She was lined up with the other cheerleaders on the turf, shaking her pompoms and looking absolutely nothing like the girl he'd come to know. Her face was a mask, totally zoned out and oblivious to his presence. In her defense, there were hundreds of people present, and he wasn't exactly a frequent feature in the crowd.
He was doing a great fucking job of getting over it already.
JJ was pretending Kiara was behind a little glass, apart of some other universe and thus completely intangible until she suddenly froze. She faltered in revving up the crowd, her arms falling to her sides and her pompoms forgotten.
He didn't know how he knew, but he did. She had seen him.
JJ tapped his fingers on his knee, counting out the rhythm in his head. He shuffled to the right, then back to his initial spot. He cleared his throat. The scoreboard indicated that there was only a couple minutes left in the game, and for once, their team wasn't getting pummeled. No one else in the audience was leaving.
"Hey man," he said into John B's ear. John B grunted in response. "Ready to run?"
"The score's tied," John B said. He was frowning, and JJ wasn't sure if he was hoping their team would win or if they (And by extension, Topper) would lose.
As if on cue, a burst of moisture exploded on JJ's cheek, and a quick glance at the sky revealed the bottom had finally fallen out. Cascades of little droplets fell down, dampening his shoulders and hair. The cheerleaders shrieked, but he could still swear Kiara was staring right fucking at him.
Umbrellas popped open around them, and Pope yanked the hood of his raincoat up, muttering to himself. JJ shot to his feet, tussling his hair with one hand and fiddling with the juul in his pocket with another. "I need to smoke."
John B eyed him skeptically, but Pope said, "Sure, man. But please don't get us kicked out." JJ had no doubt Pope would've clamored after him if every cell in his body wasn't broadcasting, I need to be alone right now.
He took the stairs two at a time, and he was at the top of the stadium in no time. He was far from secluded, but at least he didn't feel Kiara's eyes boring holes into him anymore. Maybe the rain could wash away the last two weeks; fuck, his entire life.
He'd hardly had time to slump against the brick wall before a voice called after him, breathless. "JJ! JJ!"
And Kiara was suddenly right there, in her cute perky ponytail and short cheerleader skirt. She was panting from where she had clearly just run up the stairs, but her dark eyes were desperate. A few bystanders in line at the concession stand shot them looks.
JJ's heart hammered, in his throat. She watched him like she was approaching a stray.
"Kie?" he muttered, and her face broke into a hopeful smile. He could still make out her nerves in the way she twisted her mouth, in the way she rang her hands.
"Hey," she breathed.
She was here. She was here.
"Hey." His stomach clenched. He hardly noticed the rain picking up, or the screams of people back in the audience.
Kiara squared her shoulders. A crucial second passed, the kind that a person's entire life hung in the balance of, and she took another step forward. Her hand crept into his, warm and welcoming, and he felt his fingers first freeze, then relax instinctually.
"I just wanted to tell you… Please don't stop bothering me." Her voice trembled over a couple words, but she didn't waiver.
JJ held his breath. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
And then his hand clenched hers back, and his mouth twitched. Kiara leaned forward, and even with her silhouette blurred by the rain he could see that she was beaming. He wanted to make some comment about how her flirting skills needed some serious work, but the words got caught in his throat.
Her free hand drifted to his shoulder, like when they'd danced alone in the music room. Only this time, her lips landed on his, warm and alive in perfect contrast to the chill of the rain.
JJ had never understood that ridiculous moment in movies where kissing someone was magic, the end all that solved people's problems. As far as he was concerned, it had always been a stepping-stone to copping a better feel or to sex.
But when he inched forwards, molding his mouth more firmly against Kiara's in a way that caused her to let out a cute little ghost of air against his lips, something finally clicked.
Her arms wove around his shoulders, fingers creeping into the shaggy hair at the nape of his neck, and he pulled her closer in response. Both of their clothes were soaked through, but JJ had never cared less about such an inconvenience in his life. He would kiss her all day in the rain. In the snow, in a storm. Wherever she wanted to.
He would never get tired of kissing Kiara Carrera.
Something blasted over the intercom that JJ didn't make out, but suddenly Kiara was pulling back. Her eyes implored his, but she didn't abandon her grip on him. JJ raised a trembling thumb to swipe a sodden curl off her forehead.
"You really waited to kiss me in the rain." He tried to sound sarcastic, but big ass grin overtaking his lips ruined the effect. "I didn't nail you as a hopeless romantic, Carrera."
Kiara rolled her eyes, then smacked playfully on his shoulder. Her ponytail, formerly full and bouncy, had grown limp and soppy from the rain, but she'd never looked more beautiful.
"Only because you wouldn't kiss me at the dance," she accused, but there was no heat behind it.
"Please don't stop bothering me," he repeated, pretending to think on it. "Nah, maybe you're not that romantic."
"Oh, shut up."
And she yanked him back in for another searing kiss.
JJ [7:21 am]: My girlfriend looks smokin today
JJ [7:23 am]: Might have to reconsider that janitor's closet
Kie [7:28 am]: Keep talking like that and you might not have a girlfriend
JJ [7:32 am]: you'd miss me too much
Kie [7:34 am]: also stop texting me at work. My dad's in the kitchen. It's creepy
JJ [7:38 am]: u love it
Kie [7:39 am]: 3
Kie [7:41 am]: in the dish room if you want to show me instead
Kiara never thought she would be a touchy, PDA kind of girlfriend, but that was before JJ. He was all hands and heart and intensity and he always seemed to want to touch her. A hand on her knee, his lips on the shell of her ear, a tug on her curl.
She couldn't get enough.
They were behind the counter at the Wreck, working the breakfast rush before school. Kiara was shoving biscuits for their friends into a baggie, and JJ had a casual hand massaging her shoulder, a touch she practically melted into. Mike had temporarily abandoned glowering at JJ with a knife in hand in favor of cooking, so she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
John B and Pope, however, still couldn't seem to stop staring. Pope in particular had taken to watching them like they were two insects under a microscope from his seat on the opposite side of the counter, and silence almost always washed over him in Kiara's presence.
"So, I told my mom last night," Kiara said, in the midst of wrapping a bacon biscuit for Sarah.
JJ's hand on her stilled. "How'd it go?"
"Awful," she admitted. Her hip bumped his, and she offered him a small smile. "But it went."
If it hadn't have been for JJ, she might have ended up bullied into business school. Instead, when Anna had handed her yet another application late last night, Kiara had taken a deep breath and explained to her that she would be taking a gap year. That she might not even go to college at all.
Her mom still wasn't speaking to her much, but she would get over it. Kiara was sure of it.
She looked at JJ, and she was grateful for that certainty with her mom. He still hadn't opened up with exact details of how his home life had been before he moved in with John B, but she knew enough for her heart to swell with relief that he was out of there.
JJ planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "She wants my head on a spike, doesn't she?" Somehow, he managed to sound both amused and self-deprecating at the same time.
"Nah."
Her parents' opinion of JJ was… a work in progress.
There was one person besides her, however, who loved the new addition of him into her life. "Morning, lovebirds," Sarah's voice interrupted, from the entryway. She strutted in, bag slung over her shoulder and hair blown out to perfection. She flashed a smile at John B, and Kiara was fairly sure his soul left his body. Pope looked back and forth between the two of them with dread.
"Yeah, never call us that again," Kiara said, as JJ mimed gagging. The grin on his face ruined the effect.
Things weren't an automatic happily ever after. But Kiara? Kiara was happy.
And taking in the soft smile on JJ's face, the face she was still learning and growing to love, she thought he was, too.
AN: for my sanity, comments are appreciated