Chapter Three-Hundred and Thirteen
Clarissa rushed to John's room, noticing the little black microphone in his hand. "What is that?" She asked, hoping that it was just a part of recording equipment.
"Jessica planted a bug under my bed." John smirked, thinking about the nonsense she would have heard with the house full of dorks. "And knowing her, there's probably more."
Claire giggled, her face reddening when she remembered the nightmares John had been suffering from, and the tests he'd had to do when he'd caught the chicken pox. "Where would the others be?" She asked, watching as John's dark eyes scanned over his bedroom and landed on his amp in the corner.
"You know, that amp's been rattling whenever I try to use it, and I was just about to strip it so that I could fix whatever's inside." He stood, popping the back off and pulling the camera from inside. "Hello."
Clarissa glared at the device, taking it from John and rushing to Thomas's office —unaware that he was meeting with Kate and her mother again. "Tom-" She stopped short as the teen wrapped John's bandanna around her hand, knowing that John must've given it to her. "You must be Kate." She smiled, placing the microphone and camera in Thomas's drawer as discreetly as possible.
Kate nodded, brushing her brown hair out of her eyes as she looked at the woman. "Does John want his bandanna back?"
She shook her head, smiling as she heard John and Claire roaring in laughter down the hallway. "I don't think he'll mind if you keep it." She jumped slightly as a loud thud echoed through the house.
"I'm fine!" Claire shouted, seconds before John let a yelp of surprise escape him.
She shook her head, meeting Kate's eyes as she excused herself. "I think he's too preoccupied trying to not be killed by my daughter."
Phoebe screamed in joy as her float was lifted by the waves on the ocean, laughing when something bumped the bottom and nearly pushed her over. "Dom!" She squealed, splashing him when he wasn't looking at her. "Don't do that!"
He smirked, pointing to John as he pushed himself to stand on his board. "Look!" He grinned watching as his cousin steadied himself and rode the water. "He's doing it!"
John closed his eyes, concentrating on the water beneath his board, the salt on his skin, the wind in his soaked hair. If he'd ever felt freedom, this was it. He touched the water with his fingertips, smirking as the scent of saltwater reached his nose.
Claire bit her lip as she watched him from the shore, standing up when he wobbled and righted himself. "He's got it!" She cheered. "He's really surfing!"
Vernon looked up from his book, taking his sunglasses off as he watched the trouble maker ride the wave. "Holy Hell." He chuckled, shaking his head. "There'll be no stopping him now."