For as long as she has been alive, one fact remained true. There are very few people who truly know Sarah Cameron.
People would skim through pages of her book, swim on the surface of her shiny blue water, skirt the edge of the tree line. Nobody ever took the plunge, read all her chapters, dared to explore her dense forests. That is, until she met her little family of Pogues.
Her journey here hadn't been without pushback, though. Kooks can't be Pogues. Pogues can become Kooks, but Kooks cannot become Pogues. That's what they all said, anyway, but the group of Lifers, P4L, didn't give a shit about status quo.
JJ Maybank was one of the very few, however, to truly know Sarah Cameron. They'd bonded almost immediately. It was always a topic of conversation. How Ward Cameron's perfect daughter could find her way into such trash. Her fists curled into themselves at the thought of the general population being so apt to hate such a kind and gentle soul simply because of where and who he hailed from. For as dangerous as he painted himself to be, she knew better. She knew he was better.
The day waned, the air grew cooler, but the humidity stayed heavy in the air to match the weight of her worry.
Wherever JJ had gone, he didn't want to be found.
She was broken from her musings when she bumped into something. She was knocked to the ground.
"You okay, Princess?" He asked her and outstretched his hand. Relief crashed into her like the rough surf that had settled into the cove.
She took it, standing, before wrapping her arms around him. When she pulled back, however, she hit her hands against his chest repeatedly. Her lip quivered, fresh tears threatening to spill over her eyes. All while the setting sun illuminated their property, casting a glow into their matching blue-green-hazel orbs. Such a wild color for one's eyes, almost as if they looked fake.
The only person she'd ever met with the same eyes as her, aside from Rafe.
"Don't cry..." He trailed off, voice hitching in panic.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" She defended herself, voice cracking as the waterfall started. "I thought something happened to you."
Her heart wrenched at the look on his face. Aloof. He was anything but, however, he'd gotten really good at figuring out how to play the game of deception. It was easier to pretend like you don't give a fuck than to pretend you're happy, or in the very least, okay. A trait she knew all too well, because she had the same one.
"I was with Jo." His voice held an air of iciness to it. "Your boyfriend already told me what you've all been thinking-"
"Jesse James, do not shut me out." She demanded, voice steady, although her red cheeks and bleary eyes betrayed her. "Do not be rude when I have done nothing but respect you."
She was also the only one that he let call him Jesse James. The only one who bothered to know what JJ stood for. It was ironic that he had the same name as an outlaw, and suddenly was glad that nobody knew what it stood for. Maybe she was allowed to call him that because she reminded him of his mother.
"You think I'm turning into my Pops."
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"No!" She defended herself. Her voice wasn't defensive, though, it was exasperated. "JJ, I will never think that you're gonna turn into Luke." She stuck her finger to his chest.
The sun sank deeper into the horizon, and their figures that were illuminated by golden hues now turned dark and into elongating shadows.
"I'm scared of losing you, JJ." She told him, voice ten decibels softer. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? To all of us?"
He swallowed, and she cupped his face in her hands, knowing she'd gotten through to him. "You are the only person in my life that has ever seen me for who I am and accepted me for it without question. You're the only person that's ever risked your life to save mine. You're the only person that listened to me and cared when we thought my father died. You're the only one I know has my back one hundred percent, aside from the ever-oblivious John B." She told him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, and burying his face in her blonde locks.
The scent of strawberries was comforting. It felt homey somehow.
"I'm right here, Sarah."
"No, you aren't." She told him. "And, you're entitled to feel however you feel, but I don't want you to go anywhere."
"Is this about what Anna said?"
"Yes, and no." She told him. "You might think you're doing a good job at hiding by acting like you don't give a shit. But you're doing a terrible job at fooling me."
He nodded. "Yeah, yeah, okay."
She squeezed him harder, feeling the bones of his ribs pressing against her arms. She held him as if she'd let go and vanish, crumpling into dust. Maybe he would.
"We all love you, Jayj."
"You're hurting me, Princess." He wheezed.
She let him go. "Sorry. Cleo's making dinner. You wanna join us?"
He didn't really, after fighting with John B, but he nodded. If only to appease the girl who he'd become so fond of recently. Sarah was his sister, unofficially, at this point in his life. The closest thing to family he had next to the brunette in question. Wherever he was.
What if she really is your sister? What then?
The DNA results that have yet to come back had been gnawing at him. There was something going on with their processing. The company had been bought, and things had grinded to a halt for a moment.
Rest assured, we will get those results to all our loyal, hardworking, paying customers as soon as they become available.
That was three months ago.
"What's she making?"
"Oxtail." Sarah nodded. "With rice, Jamaican Snow, she called it."
JJ snorted, following her into the house, scratching Atlas's head when she came to greet them.
"Rude Boy, should I set you a plate?" Cleo grinned at him, to which he returned. The storm surge in his gut had quelled to a low swell.
"Please." He told her. "Extra snow." He enjoyed the laugh it brought out of her.
Pope and John B walked in the door, talking amongst themselves. Cleo set a plate down in front of JJ, extra rice as promised. The three were locked in a staring match.
"Whelp! I'm starved guys!" He grinned, sucking on his Oxtail. "Let's not be too awkward, now."
John B rolled his eyes, but nodded, filling his plate with the goods Cleo had made. One sleep away from three days away from leaving JJ to his own devices.
"Guys, I'm not going anywhere." JJ told them, sprinkling salt on his white rice. "You two are gonna come back to a brand-new Chateau. You are gonna go have a bangin' fall semester, and then at Thanksgiving, we're all gonna sing Kumbaya with the Heywards and the Carreras in our living room, and maybe Kie will come back." His tone was airy with a tinge of sarcasm, grin plastered on his face with his best efforts. But his friends' eyes sang a different tune as they bore into him. He dropped the grin, shoveling in a mouthful of rice. "What?"
John B's face gave it away. That was his most endearing trait, but his greatest downfall. Aside from being oblivious.
But nobody said anything. Which was worse.
"I don't do well with silence." He reminded them, teasing.
Pope was the first to crack a smile.
"Hello?"
She froze when he answered the phone.
Half of her hadn't expected him to pick up the phone. The other half? Expected to be berated.
"Hello?"
"This is the part where you speak." G nudged her.
"Pope?"
"Yeah." He sounded out of breath. "What's up?"
What's up?
She snorted. "That's the best you got?"
"Cleo just texted me and said he's back at the house." John B was heard talking faintly in the background. "Who is that? Is that Cleo? Tell her to save me some Oxtail!"
"I, uh..." She trailed off, at a loss for words. She'd taken the leap. Here goes nothing. "Hi."
Lame.
"Lame." G shook his head. She smacked his leg.
"Hey, Kie. This isn't the best time; can I call you back?"
"Kie?! What the hell? Po-"
"Gotta go, I'll call you back! Promise."
The phone beeped signaling the call had dropped.
"Well, at least he's gonna call you back?" He offered.
She nodded. "Yeah."
He hung up, John B's knuckles turning white against the murderous grip he had on the steering wheel of the shop truck. It was an old square body chevy that JJ brought back to life.
Because nobody knew automotive engineering better than he did.
"You've been talking to Kiara?"
"She texted me this morning, and I didn't answer, then she called."
"And you answered." John B finished.
Pope turned fully in his seat to look at his friend. "Did you expect me to ignore her?"
Silence.
The answer hung in the silence.
"No." He finally said.
"You're mad at Kie because Sarah and JJ are mad at Kie." Pope told him, tone flippant. Pope doesn't get flippant. Pope does speak facts, however, because John B's mouth opened and closed like a fish deprived of water. "Am I wrong?"
"No." John B admitted, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. "No, you aren't, but it's kinda hard to separate myself from them."
"I figured as much." Pope shrugged. "I'm not too thrilled with her either, but Pogues don't jump ship on Pogues, no matter how..." He trailed off, looking for the right word. "Odd, or distant they've been acting lately."
"If ghosting all your friends for no reason counts as distant, then yeah, I catch your drift." John B snorted. "That's all you, Pope."
"Are we keeping this a secret from JJ?" Pope asked, curling a brow.
John B met his friend's eyes briefly, before focusing back on the road. "Oh yeah, he can't know."
"Glad we're on the same page."