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“JJ, it was an accident!” You insisted, following the boy as he stormed into the Chateau, trying not to pay any mind to the rest of the pogues who gave you a concerned look.
He didn’t respond, slamming the screen door behind him, nearly hitting you in the face with it. You jumped back, sighing before throwing the door open.
Curious beyond belief, the rest of the group followed you. The two of you were thick as thieves a mere twenty minutes ago when you went off to grab something from JJ’s house together. His dad wasn’t home, but you didn’t want to take any chances, standing firm on not letting him go alone.
His house was too cluttered, and while you were waiting for him to nab a beer or two out of the fridge on his way out, you stepped too far back and managed to knock a set of wind chimes off its hook, tensing when it crashed to the ground in about a million pieces.
JJ stopped, beer in hand and fridge door still open, staring down at the shattered windchimes for a long time before he kicked the door shut, shoving past you to get out of the house, almost leaving you behind in his haste to leave.
Now, you were still trying to chase him down, trying so desperately to get JJ to talk to you. He’d been silent the entire way back to the Chateau and seemed pretty content with avoiding you until the end of time over a simple mistake.
“Jesus Christ, JJ, I’ll fucking pay for it!” You called after him, falling silent when he finally stopped moving.
“You can’t just make everything go away with daddy’s money, Y/N.” His voice was firm, harsher than he’d ever spoken to you, still refusing to face you.
“I’m not saying that,” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just saying-”
“No, you know what? Shut the fuck up.” He spun around, his words and the anger in his eyes making you freeze.
“JJ-” Kie’s voice came from the door, standing between John B and Pope.
“I fucking made that, Y/N! When I was a kid; that shit had actual sentimental value! You can’t just buy a fucking new one!” He raised his voice, ignoring Kie’s feeble attempt at intervening.
You stopped, shrinking in on yourself. “JJ, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry-”
“Of course you didn’t know! Cause you’re just a kook!” His words stung, like a needle shooting through your heart.
“JJ, I’m sorry-” You repeated, fighting back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“No, that was the last straw.” He lowered his voice, sounding eerily calm. “You’re not a pogue. You are not one of us. So stop fucking pretending you belong with us.”
You took a step back, mouth agape in shock. When he didn’t back down, you risked a glance at the others. They said nothing, instead avoiding your gaze.
Of course. They were JJ’s friends first, anyway. You could feel the bitter taste of betrayal in your mouth when you pushed past Pope to open the screen door, letting it slam behind you as you left.
A stinging feeling had settled deep into your chest, trying to push away the realization that it felt like something had just ended.
You made your way back to Figure Eight, feeling more alone than you’d ever felt in your life.
A little over a week had passed before your parents were trying everything to convince you to go to Midsummers. The previous couple of years you’d been able to skip out on it, going down to the docks to meet the pogues instead.
With no word from any of your friends since the fallout between you and JJ, your parents had been extra pushy about making you attend.
You sat alone in your room, writing out a text to JJ. It was carefully crafted, but once it was done, you gave it a long look and deleted it, throwing your phone on your bed.
It landed beside the dress your mom had laid out for you, along with a pair of matching heels. Their presence felt like it was mocking you, glaring up at you and reminding you how much you didn’t belong with your friends.
Fuck it.
Might as well play the part, right?
You changed into the dress, taming your hair to the best of your ability, grabbing your phone before you made your way to find your parents.
In a last-ditch effort, you checked your phone one last time, hoping beyond all odds that JJ would’ve reached out to say something. Anything.
No new notifications.
Cursing under your breath, you shoved your phone into a purse and left your bedroom.
Midsummers was just as boring as you knew it would be. You stood awkwardly at the outskirts of the party. Pope was working, stationed at the grill on the perfectly trimmed lawn, chatting with Kie. They looked so happy talking together that you had to blink back tears.
When you noticed a glass of something left unattended, you snagged it off the table it was left on, drinking whatever it was. The alcohol burned your throat, and you grimaced to yourself before setting the empty glass back down. It wasn’t enough to get you drunk, but hopefully it was enough to make Midsummers a little more survivable.
“Hey!” Sarah Cameron’s voice brought you out of your daze, giving the girl a smile. She was always nice, but you hadn’t really spoken to her much since Kie had such a vendetta against her.
“Hi,” You grinned, relieved that someone was actually talking to you.
“Surprised to see you here, I thought you hated these kinds of things!” Her smile was so genuine you couldn’t help but feel welcomed, half forgetting that this was the famed kook princess that Kie hated so much.
“Yeah,” You nodded. “Well, didn’t really have anything else to do, so…”
You trailed off, now distracted by Kie laughing at whatever joke Pope made. Sarah followed your gaze, putting the pieces together and giving you a sympathetic smile.
“Listen, I’m gonna go dance with Wheezie for a bit, but I’ll be back! Enjoy yourself, drink, and have fun! Mingle!” She put her hands on your shoulders for a second before disappearing into the crowd, fitting in so well with the uptight rich assholes that you felt a tinge of jealousy.
Talking to Sarah did help your sour mood, however, and you were finally able to let yourself relax a little. You made small talk with a couple of people you didn’t really know, sneaking a couple more drinks when no one was actually paying attention to you.
It wasn’t until you saw a familiar head of blonde hair that your heart dropped.
There he was, dressed up all nice, dancing back-to-back with Sarah Cameron.
JJ fucking Maybank.
You froze, barely paying any mind when someone shoved past you, muttering about how you were standing in the way.
Since when were JJ and Sarah friends? More importantly, since when was Sarah not ‘too kook’ for him? Why would he cut you off but not her of all people?
Shaking your head, you downed your final drink of the night, hopping down the steps and pushing past the crowd, hoping to find somewhere quiet.
What you didn’t anticipate was the asshole you’d been strategically avoiding the whole night.
“Y/N!”
You stopped, slowly spinning around to face Rafe, tensing when you saw the lazy grin on his face.
“What do you want.” He chuckled, taking a dangerous step towards you.
“Just wanted to talk.” Rafe reeked of alcohol, and while you were by no means sober, he was clearly much further gone than you.
When he reached for your wrist, you snatched it out of his grasp.
“We can talk without you putting your hands on me.” You said, fighting to maintain eye contact with him. Admittedly, he intimidated the hell out of you, but you were too stubborn to show any signs of fear. JJ had once joked that people like him could smell fear on you. Still, you glanced towards the crowd behind him. You were far enough away that no one had begun to notice the tense conversation taking place.
Dramatically, he raised both of his hands in defense. “Don’t worry, I mean no harm. Just wondering why you’re here with us instead of slumming it with the pogues like usual. I mean,” He pointed vaguely to where Kie and Pope were standing, now with JJ who seemed to be telling a story. “None of them have even looked your way tonight. Don’t tell me you’re not even good enough for them?”
You bit your tongue, glaring Rafe down.
“What do you care?”
“Oh, I care plenty.” He leaned in uncomfortably close in a way that made you want to gag. “I mean, I’m just glad you got out of there while you still could.”
You rolled your eyes, turning to walk away. You’d entertained Rafe’s drunk bullshit long enough.
“I’m just saying!” He called after you. “Better to leave now before Maybanks just turns into his dad, right?”
Crack.
The sound of your fist hitting Rafe’s jaw resounded through the crowd, with everyone in earshot turning to see what had happened.
He stumbled back, hand holding the side of his face.
“Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.” You said through gritted teeth, desperately trying to ignore the pain in your knuckles.
Rafe was quick to rally, regaining his balance and throwing a punch that knocked you off your feet.
You were never much of a fighter. In fact, you’d never actually been in a fight before.
Still, you persisted, stumbling to your feet and clenching your fists.
You raised your hand to hit him again, only to be met with another punch to the face. You barely managed to stay upright, only half aware of not only the crowd forming but the boy shoving his way to the front.
“Stop pretending to be one of us.” Rafe spit.
You didn’t respond, lunging at him in your determination to win the fight. Pushing him to the ground, you got one good hit in before he shoved you off of him, now hovering above you.
Before he could do any damage, he was thrown to the side, landing hard against the dirt. You could hear yelling, but you weren’t sure where the noise was actually coming from.
Someone dragged you off the ground, walking you away from the crowd with a firm grip on your arm. You tripped over your own feet before you could gather yourself, struggling to keep up with whoever was dragging you along.
Who was dragging you along?
You blinked, getting a good look at your savior.
JJ Maybank.
When you realized who he was, you tried to shake his hand off your arm, pulling away from him.
“I don’t need your help,” You muttered, turning to walk away once you managed to rip your arm out of his grip, only half sure of what direction you were heading in.
“Y/N, stop.” His was was more gentle than the last time you heard it, and it was almost enough to break you. When he put a hand on your shoulder, you shook it off.
“Get off of me,” The hurt from your fight was still burning in your chest. You took two steps away before the heels you were wearing caught you off balance, almost falling to the ground.
What a sight you must’ve been.
“Hey, I’m the medical expert here, let me help you.” You frowned at his statement, noticing the injuries on his own face. When you stopped, JJ wrapped an arm around you, soft enough that you could pull away if you really wanted to.
You didn’t.
Silently, he pulled you into the building, guiding you through the bathroom and into a locker room, carefully setting you down against the wall. The second you were out of his hands, he jumped up, checking every cabinet and drawer he could find, even running off into the bathroom to search for something, cursing under his breath at every empty drawer.
"Aha!” You heard from the next room, watching him run back in with a first aid kit in one hand and a wet rag in the other. “Here we are.”
He sat himself down in front of you, eyes softening at the injuries you sustained.
“This’ll sting.” He said, dabbing your face with the rag to clean off the blood.
You flinched, hissing when the water made contact with the cuts on your face. JJ apologized quietly, moving as gently as he could.
“So,” JJ started, carefully picking up your hand and cleaning the blood off your knuckles. “Why’d you do it?”
You shrugged, gaze falling down to watch JJ’s work on your hand. “He was being an asshole.”
“When is he not?” He laughed.
You hadn’t heard him laugh in a while. You didn’t realize how much you missed it.
“But seriously, you were always the one getting me out of fights, what did he say to make you throw the first punch?”
When you didn’t respond right away, JJ ran a thumb over your hand, coaxing you into speaking.
“Nothing that was true.” You really didn’t want to tell JJ what he’d said, half afraid he would internalize it and hate himself for it when he was alone at night.
“C’mon,” He set the rag down, opening the first aid kit, and grabbing neosporin, dabbing it on his finger and rubbing it over the cut that was on your cheekbone. “You can tell me.”
Taking a deep breath, you meet his eyes. “He was just saying some shit about you ending up like your dad. Like I said, nothing true.”
JJ stilled, hand still resting on your cheek.
“You got into a fight with Rafe Cameron over me?”
You were surprised at how soft his voice was, a frown beginning to appear on his face.
“Of course I did. Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”
JJ swore he felt his heart break into pieces.
“Y/N…”
“Hey, I don’t wanna hear it, okay?” You cut him off, pushing yourself to your feet now that he was done cleaning you up. “I appreciate your help, but I don’t need your pity. You said it yourself, I’m not a pogue.”
You’d barely made it to the doorway before JJ’s hand caught your wrist. It was impossibly gentle, in a way someone like Rafe Cameron would never understand.
Slowly, you turned back to face him, gaze stuck to the ground as you prepared for another fight.
What surprised you, though, was JJ pulling you into a tight hug. It took you a moment to relax, but when you did, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. You buried your face into his neck, letting a couple tears fall.
When he heard you sniffle, he pulled away, wiping the tears from your eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, cradling your face in his hands. “You’re absolutely one of us, you always will be. I wanted to reach out to you the second you left, I’m so sorry I never did. I should’ve said something.”
You didn’t say anything, letting your eyes flutter closed, basking in the feeling of being around JJ again.
“I think part of me was scared that you would actually be better off with the kooks. That after years of-” He stopped, his breath hitching.
You opened your eyes, giving him an expectant look.
“…That after years of loving you, you’d be better off without me.”
A beat passed.
“What?” You couldn’t stop the word from spilling from your lips.
He laughed nervously, his smile turning into more of a grimace. “Don’t make me repeat it.”
“You… loved me?”
“Hey, I never said it was past tense.” You could tell he was nervous as all hell, tenderly grabbing his hand.
“JJ?” Reluctantly, he looks at you. “You’re an idiot.”
He laughed, the tension in his shoulders dropping when he saw the way you smiled. “Yeah, probably.”
You pulled him into another hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too, J.”
“Thank god, cause I was not ready to lose you again.” When he pulled away again, he nodded towards the wall you were previously stationed at. “Now sit back down, I still have to bandage your battle wounds.”
The smile on his face made you realize everything was gonna be okay again.
It felt like a new beginning.