Chapter Text
John B was excited, stoked, off-the-walls-ecstatic.
JJ could see it in the way his friend talked a million miles an hour; in his animated bouncing and twirling (and maybe even a little singing) during recess; in the way he couldn’t sit still for a second, even after the threat of being sent to the principal's office if he didn’t calm down. JJ could see it in his constant smile and the way he couldn’t stop talking about “tonight.”
To JJ it wasn’t that big of a deal. To John B it was everything .
Because Big John had finally agreed to let JJ come over to their house to hang out. Something John B had been begging for since they first met halfway through second grade and after their official declaration of becoming best friends at the start of third grade. But despite the begging, Big John never relented, telling his kid — who would promptly relay the information to JJ — that he didn’t want anyone over who might break something. Which translated to “I don’t want to lose any of my precious research on the Royal Merchant that is way more important than my son’s happiness.” At least that’s what John B said it meant.
But finally, after three years of persistence, Big John relented and JJ was heading home with his best friend.
And JJ was…excited. Sure. He was curious to see his best buds home, know what his room looked like, where John B spent his days away from JJ.
He also knew that homes could be sketchy.
JJ didn’t understand why John B was so desperate to have him over. They could have more fun hanging out at the beach or somewhere else around town. If John B wanted to eat, they could grab a meal at a cheap restaurant and lounge under the stars. JJ wouldn’t mind spitting some money at a good cause, he needed to find food soon anyway if the gnawing hunger and dizziness was anything to go by. JJ thought that was a better idea than being home, but apparently John B didn’t. And if eating a meal and hanging out at John B’s meant something to his friend, JJ was prepared to make it mean something to him as well.
“JJ!”
A hand landed on his shoulder from behind and JJ felt himself tensing in surprise before whirling on his friend, the wall of lockers now behind him. John B still had a giant grin plastered on his face.
“JB!” He said right back, raising his voice so it held a lilt of mocking.
John B slapped his arm, though it held none of his usual power. That in itself was a testament to his excitement.
“You ready to go, JJ?” John B asked, eyeing JJ’s deflated school bag suspiciously.
“Definitely,” JJ responded. Then, noting John B’s skeptical look, he laughed. “I left my books around school, John B…”
John B’s eyebrows turned down as if trying to understand what the explanation even meant. Oh, how naive, JJ laughed to himself while looping his arm around his clueless friend’s neck and beginning to walk towards the doors of freedom.
“Let me work this through with you, bro. I leave my books around school, right?” JJ waited for a nod before continuing. “Okay, then when the janitor cleans what does he find?”
“Your books?” John B guessed.
“Exactly! My books. Then…drum roll please….it’s his responsibility to bring those books to the lost and found box!” JJ grinned, sneaking a glance at his friend as he waited for the realization to kick in.
John B shrugged JJ’s arm off his shoulders, marching ahead to pass out of the threshold of school and enter the land of the living a second before JJ did. It was always a competition between them: who could escape the stifling confines of the building first. But if JJ was being honest he normally gave the win to John B, just to see his triumphant smile when he looked back to watch JJ pass through a second after him.
“I still don’t get it,” John B mused, his mind back on their conversation as his feet easily carried him along the well worn path to his home.
JJ followed a pace or too behind. “I’ll have to go retrieve my books from the lost and found, right?”
“Well, yeah…”
“And what else can be found in the lost and found box?”
“Uh…lost things?”
JJ clapped slowly. “Exactly…other lost things. Everything people have been too careless to hold on to. And I’ll have my pick of any of them.”
JJ knew exactly when it clicked with John B: the way his eyes blew wide and a little gasp squeezed past his lips.
“You’re going to steal things people will be looking for?” John B asked.
“Well yeah…it’s not like there will be anything too important in that box. Whatever's lost is always the stuff people don’t care enough about to hang on to. Most people won’t even miss anything enough to go check the lost and found for it.”
John B nodded, accepting the answer, though JJ could tell it didn’t exactly sit well with him. That was the way they rolled though, because JJ was always going to do things that didn’t exactly line up with the things he should be doing and he’d already made it perfectly clear that that was never going to change.
“I like the way I am,” JJ had whispered after their first argument over some not-quite legal thing JJ had done, back when they’d first started third grade. “If you want a better friend, then go find one, because I’m not changing. Not for someone else.”
And John B had grumbled and complained, but he’d stuck around.
The boys turned onto the road that led to John B’s house, and John B declared that they only had a couple more minutes before they would see his home. Which, JJ had to admit, was a lot closer than he had expected, considering that his home was quite a bit deeper into the Cut.
“Ta-da!” John B suddenly exploded arm shooting out in front of him. “That’s it! That’s the Chateau!”
JJ took it in, eyes wide. The house was big! Nothing like the ones on Figure Eight, but compared to JJ’s own house this place looked like a castle. Relatively secluded from anyone, surrounded by the odd tree and a lot of land, and the house was gunning for Kook attention.
“Why’d you never tell me you were a Kook?” JJ asked, turning an accusing look on John B, though there was laughter hidden behind his eyes.
John B shoved his shoulder, pushing JJ slightly off balance. “I’m not a Kook, J” He warned, laughter spilling from his lips as well.
They approached the house in relative silence after that. JJ taking in his surroundings. It was a nice piece of land, close to the water, buried behind trees and hidden from other houses around. It felt secluded, but not in the way his home did. This felt peaceful, nothing about the lot screamed “I’m ominous, avoid me as often as possible!”
When they approached the steps some minutes later, Big John was standing in the doorway waiting. He was a big man, bigger than JJ’s own father, with a strong build and a firm face. Not a mean looking face, but not a particularly nice looking one either. And even though JJ had met him before — in town, or on the occasion that he took John B someplace and allowed JJ to tag along — today felt different, like the man was sizing him up to see if he would be easy prey. JJ felt a lump rise in his throat and his feet freeze in place on the top step.
“Good afternoon, sir,” JJ mumbled, ducking his head to try to still his heart's insistent pounding.
“Good afternoon, JJ. How was school?”
JJ looked up quickly, trying to assess whether the question was directed at John B or himself, but when his best friend made no move to answer he decided to do so himself. “It was pretty good…sir. We…uh….” JJ tried to think of something they covered. “We learned stuff,” he finished lamely.
Big John didn’t seem to appreciate that answer as his mouth pressed into a thin line. “We can only hope,” he mumbled in that way adults do when they think children’s hearing is less developed than their own. JJ ignored the words anyway.
“Come on! Let's go inside!” John B insisted, grabbing JJ’s wrists and dragging him inside.
JJ bit back an exclamation of pain as John B’s fingers wrapped around the fresh bruises Luke’s strong grip had left on him the night before. He shook himself out of John B’s hold as soon as possible, pretending to be interested in some fixture sitting on the coffee table—a little metallic piece that looked like it was supposed to carry some shape but ended up resembling a contorted pile of silver more than anything else.
“What is this?” JJ couldn’t help asking.
“That’s a shark,” John B said with disinterest as he tried to get JJ to follow him to the back of the house where his room was.
JJ squinted at the piece. He supposed it could be a shark. There were sharp spikes protruding from the top and sides that were probably supposed to resemble fins. It did narrow out on one end, so that could be the tail. But you really had to look to see any sort of resemblance.
“Why would your dad buy this?”
John B turned back to look at JJ who still hadn’t followed him into the hall. “He didn’t. Dad and I made that.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
Oh…
Of course. They made it. Together. Father and son...
“Cool,” JJ whispered, finally turning away from the table. He made sure to keep his head lowered as he followed John B to the back of the house, blinking back the pinpricks in his eyes…boy that coffee table sure was dusty.
“And this is my room!” John B exclaimed after pointing out a guest room and bathroom along the way.
JJ stood in the doorway, taking in the room. It was small. Nothing more than a bed and dresser, really. But it looked comfortable, with a calm blue bedspread that reminded JJ of the ocean and a couple loose posters tapped haphazardly along the walls.
“What do you think?” John B asked.
In response, JJ dashed into the room and flung himself on his best friend’s bed. “I think we should switch rooms.”
John B chuckled. “Your room can’t be that bad.”
JJ tried not to think about his room, littered with trash and broken glass and empty bottles that flooded in from the halls. His room wasn’t much smaller, also housing a mattress and dresser, but the space felt cramped. The walls felt closer, more pressing, like even they wanted the chance to push him around a bit.
“Nah…yours is way cooler!” He emphasized the point with a bounce, testing the springs.
John B laughed, stepping out of the doorway and joining JJ on the bed. “Now I really want to see your room.”
JJ shook his head. “Yeah… I don’t think that’s happening.”
“Why?”
“Because my room is ugly?”
John B rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at JJ’s head. “I hang out with ugly all the time.”
The blonde boy caught the pillow right before it made contact. “Oh…you’re going to get it this time John Booker!”
He lunged at John B, swinging the pillow. The other boy jumped off the bed, running out the door and skidding through the hall. JJ followed close behind, pillow still clutched in his hands as he shouted threats at his friend. The boys rounded a corner, John B slowing himself down by slipping and JJ taking the opportunity to swing the pillow forward and…right as it was about to make contact with the other boy the pillow was lifted from his hands.
“And where do you think you’re going with this?” Big John asked, eying the open front door they were heading towards. The look he gave the boys was one that seemed to say ‘I knew I shouldn’t have allowed a friend to come over.’
JJ took a step back from Big John as he realized just how close he was to the big man’s legs and his heart seemed to sputter a few times before kicking into overdrive.
“We were only playing, Dad. We wouldn’t have lost it,” John B protested.
“Pillows stay inside and they certainly aren’t for playing. Why not you go play outside for a bit, I’ll work on finishing up supper.”
John B nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Come on, J!”
The blonde followed his friend outside, returning to the chase despite not having a pillow. There were better choices of weapons anyway. Like a stick.
JJ snapped the long, thin branch he’d picked up from around the base of an old pine tree. The pines still attached to the branch’s length brushed along John B’s arm.
“Ha ha! I win!” JJ cheered, throwing his arms above his head.
John B whipped around a stick in his own hand. “No way! I still have a lot of fight left in me!” He brandished the stick as if it was a sword. His being a rather short and stubby branch that probably had more power than the flimsy one JJ held.
“Then I’ll just have to knock that fight out.” JJ lunged forward, stabbing his branch at John B and quickly realizing that his branch would never do much damage as the end bounced up and down like a spring.
John B got closer to get within range of his short weapon. He lightly banged his stick against JJ’s side. JJ brushed the pines along John B’s face in response, distracting the other boy from his attack JJ used the distraction to tug at his friend’s stick until it fell from his grasp, landing in a layer of leaves and needles that brushed the ground floor.
“I win!” JJ shouted.
Big John, who had just walked outside with a plate of hamburgers acknowledged the exclamation. “I always knew Bird was a poor fighter, he’s better at running away. You disgrace the family name, John B.”
There was a laugh in the older man’s voice, but JJ couldn’t help the chill that ran down his spine as he considered Big John’s words. He didn’t think John B’s father hit him, but if his own father had said those same words he would have been speaking from experience. Maybe Big John was too.
“That’s not fair,” John B pouted. “JJ cheated.”
“Did not.”
“You totally did. Your stick was better.”
“No it wasn’t. I couldn’t even hit very well with it.”
John B eyed the stick still in JJ’s hand with suspicion. “You still cheated.”
“Now, now, son, stop being a sore loser,” Big John called from the fire pit not too far away. “Just give your buddy a pat on the back and rematch later if you think you can do better.”
John B rolled his eyes, a smile lighting his lips so they knew he wasn’t really mad. But he reached for JJ anyway, slowly patting his shoulder as his father watched. JJ grinned, accepting the mantle of winner and ignoring the pangs of pain that the touch caused. His father had been angry last night, partly because JJ was being his useless self that always got in the way, partly because he was drunk, and…partly because he’d found out that JJ was spending the evening at John B’s instead of helping around the garage.
So what though? It was one evening, and he didn’t understand why he was expected to be much help if he was so useless anyway.
John B gave him one final, firm pat, his hand just a bit lower than the others. And JJ couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped his lips as he took a startled step forward.
“JJ?” John B’s voice instantly rose in concern, his previous joking look replaced by softened features as he inspected his friend, trying to assess what had happened. Even Big John’s head had snapped up from where he was poking the fire, his attention suddenly fixed on the boys.
Using his quickest, and self-admittedly weakest, escape, JJ decided to play the situation as if it hadn’t happened. “So, rematch after supper, Bree? I totally got this in the bag.” He lifted his floppy pine branch menacingly, waving it through the air and watching it bend from the movement.
John B’s eyebrows turned down and his bottom lip jutted out in the way it did when he was thinking about something for too long. “Did I hurt you, J?”
Luke had made some pretty nice bruises with his favorite tarnished belt. He’d only hit JJ with it a couple of times, but it was enough to leave a mark.
Deny. Deny. Deny.
“Nope.”
That was believable. Totally.
“Then why’d you…?” John B left the question open, clearly unsure how to describe JJ’s exclamation.
JJ was a good liar, he knew that. He was a good liar when he’d broken something expensive and needed to act as if he hadn’t. He was a good liar when he was caught stealing from the local convenience store when he was half way out the door. He was a good liar when he didn’t complete his homework and the teacher asked where it was.
He was a good liar when he wasn’t lying about his dad. In those situations he never knew what would count as a believable lie.
“Uh…kooks?” He tried.
John B took a step towards him, tapping his sore shoulder blade gingerly.
JJ tried to hold back a gasp, but when John B put more pressure he couldn’t stop another intake of breath as he shoved his friend off.
“Shit.” He whispered. “Leave it alone, Bree.”
“What’d they do?” John B’s eyes were big and curious.
JJ shook his head, wanting to find a way out of the conversation. “Nothing.”
“But you just said-”
JJ cut him off. “Is the food ready, Mr. Routledge.”
Big John nodded, gesturing for the boys to take a plate. When they approached the fire, JJ saw the older man’s eyebrows pulled down.
The meal was quite tense, with JJ not knowing what to say to break the silence and John B still stuck on their previous topic. Or just mad at being interrupted. And Big John’s gaze cutting across JJ every couple of minutes, his eyes traveling up and down his body with such intensity he could have been looking for his gold under JJ’s clothes.
JJ was almost glad when the burgers were devoured and it was time to start picking up. He rushed inside with his plate, not hesitating to start the washing. Anything to get away from the heavy atmosphere that had suddenly fallen on the group.
A couple minutes later Big John and John B walked in with their own plates, dumping them in the soapy water that had already been filled in the sink. JJ selected one of the new plates without so much as a glance at his best friend or his best friend’s father and began meticulously scrubbing at the ketchup stains. This one was definitely John B’s he decided.
Then a hand caught his elbow and JJ froze. He turned his gaze up to meet the concerned brown orbs that were Big John’s eyes.
“Why not let John B finish with the dishes and come help me with the fire, son?” Big John said, tugging lightly on JJ’s elbow.
JJ wanted to argue, wanted to tell Big John that he washed dishes all the time, that it was one thing he was actually pretty good at. He knew what Big John wanted to talk about, and he still hadn’t come up with an excuse that felt adequate, but he put the dish down anyway. He wiped his hands on the towel that hung on the oven handle and allowed himself to be led outside.
On the silent walk to the fire, JJ could feel a mirthless laugh bubbling in his throat willing itself to break past his sealed lips. He didn’t want to give Luke the power of ruining his day, but his father had certainly found a way to dampen the fun. Like he’d known the night before that belting JJ would leave just the right amount of soreness to make hanging out with his best friend just a little less enjoyable.
“Take a seat, JJ,” the older man instructed when they reached the flickering flames.
JJ did as he was told, sitting on the side farthest from Big John who had also found a seat. The older man picked up a long stick and began prodding at the fire absentmindedly, while his eyes remained trained on JJ.
“How’d you get hurt, son?”
JJ wasn’t expecting him to be so blunt.
“I’m not hurt,” JJ whispered, lowering his gaze to the ground. “I was just teasing John B.”
Big John let out a skeptical hum. “Is that so?”
JJ nodded quickly, head bobbing up and down repeatedly.
“Then you won’t mind if I take a look at your shoulder, son? Just to be sure it was all a tease?”
JJ froze. What was he supposed to say to that? He turned towards the house, hoping to see John B walking outside so he could change the topic, but all he saw was the outline of the Chateau in the fading evening light.
“JJ?”
The blonde's head snapped back up. “I’m all good, Mr. Routledge, sir. I think I should go see if John B needs some company, he’s taking awfully long in there.” He punctuated the statement by rising to his feet.
Big John stood as well, propping the stick he’d had in his hands gently against the edge of the fire pit and the ground.
“He’ll be out soon, son, but I can’t in good conscience have a kid hurt on my property without knowing what happened to him.”
“But nothing happened.”
Big John took a step forward, his hand stretching towards JJ’s shoulder. JJ braced himself, knowing what Big John was trying to do. He managed to last two seconds with the older man’s hand resting on his bruised shoulder before the pressure felt like it would just about combust him and he had to take a hesitant half step backwards. An audible release of air followed as the hand finally slid free and he was free of the weight.
Big John’s mouth turned down. “I don’t think it’s nothing, JJ.”
Tears welled in his eyes. What was he supposed to say? Luke always said he did what he did to prepare his son for the real world, but the world hadn’t felt more real to JJ and nothing Luke had done seemed enough to prepare him for this.
JJ just shook his head.
Big John sighed. “Who did this, boy? Who hurt you?”
His lips wouldn’t move.
“Was it just some old bully? A kook you said?”
His breath caught in his throat. Was he supposed to say yes?
“Your daddy then? Was it your daddy?”
And just like that his stupor ended. “No!”
Deny. Deny. Deny.
Big John shook his head like he believed the opposite to be true. Like he knew the truth despite JJ never speaking the words. But Luke had told him that the only way anyone would know shit about anything would be if JJ told them, and JJ would never tell anyone. Especially not someone he hardly knew. Especially not his best friend’s father. Especially not Big John.
“JJ...” Big John’s eyes seemed to melt, sinking past the shield the lie was meant to create.
JJ took a step back, glancing over his shoulder. John B was finally approaching. Just like that the pressure that had been slowly building in his chest evaporated. His escape had arrived. He turned away from Big John completely, running across the yard to meet up with John B, arm slinging around his best friend’s shoulders.
“You take forever washing dishes, Bree.”
“I was waiting for you to come check on me. I could have had a heart attack or something.”
JJ scanned his friend intently. “Only old people get heart attacks…I thought you were being robbed. I wasn’t about to go in there and get killed with you.”
John B met his eye and barked a laugh. “I have got to find a better sidekick.”
JJ opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by the sound of Big John’s voice from where he still stood by the fire. Dread coiled in his gut as he and John B turned toward the sound. Big John stood with the stick back in his hand, the end sparking with the remnants of fire. Unconsciously the blonde boy pulled back, waiting for the stick to lash across his chest or his face, beating him for his gall to ignore the older man.
John B cheered. “S’mores!”
The round object in Big John’s other hand suddenly made itself seen, and the full plastic bag by his feet chirped as the wind brushed over it.
“S’mores?”
John B just nodded, already moving across the yard, back to the stone pit of fire that seemed to spit insults to the sky. The world warped as the boys neared the flame, stifling the air and making it difficult to draw in a breath. And with Big John’s eyes following his every move, JJ felt as if another weight altogether was left sitting on his chest. He chose to ignore the older man, hoping that he would just let the matter drop as the night drew on.
“Okay, boys, who wants to roast some marshmallows?” Big John asked, extending a stick towards each of them.
Both boys took the sticks eagerly, watching with intent as Big John slid a marshmallow on the ends. Then watched with less intent as Big John instructed them how close to the fire they should hold their sticks, “You want to eat them, not start a fire.” He gave JJ a pointed look at that, like he really expected him to start a fire…as if.
JJ’s stick exploded in flames not five seconds after he placed it above the pit. His eyes grew wide, a smile curving his lips. “Hey, Bree, look at this!” He waved the stick back and forth, the flaming marshmallow shriveling.
John B turned towards his best friend, eyes alight with excitement. “Blow it out! Quick!”
“En garde!” The boy lifted the stick before him.
“JJ!” Big John’s hand shot out, catching a portion of the stick that was not yet engulfed in flame and thrust it into the fire pit with vigor. “You don’t need to put the marshmallow in the fire for it to roast.”
JJ shrugged.
“Just watch how John B does it while I get you another one,” Big John sighed.
So JJ watched John B as he held the stick above the lapping tongues of flame. One side of his marshmallow remained perfectly white and round while the other sagged as the sticky goop melted away into the inferno below, the heat eagerly digesting the snack. John B smirked at JJ, dipping the treat closer to the fire.
“Here you are,” Big John passed another stick over (and John B quickly jerked his stick back up before his father caught him). “Be careful this time, you don’t get a third shot.”
The second stick was grasped just as eagerly as the first.
“Let’s see how you’re coming along, Bird,” Big John reached for John B’s stick, inspecting the dripping sweet. He shook his head slightly, but placed it within the crackers anyway, handing the treat back to John B.
John B eyed the mess for a second. “JJ can have this one. He’s the guest after all.” The s’more was shoved in JJ’s face.
“No way…that one’s yours, no question. This one’s mine.”
For his part, JJ hadn’t meant to catch the marshmallow on fire the second time, but sweeping the stick around to show John B his nicely browning marshmallow had brushed it right through the line of fire — literally. And once it was on fire, JJ couldn’t help himself, he wielded the flame like the burning weapon it was, swiping it through the air and watching the light linger in its wake.
John B laughed, digging his own stick into the embers of the pit and watching the end light up as well.
“Boys!” Big John cut in, panic seizing his voice. “Drop. Them. Sticks.”
John B tossed his stick into the fire pit. And JJ dropped it. Right on the grass.
John B gasped, stepping back and dragging JJ with him as the fire leaped on its new kindling. The greedy heat devoured the grass in its immediate area, then sped along the ground to the brush behind. Big John was quick to grab a pail of water and slosh it over the fire, knocking out most of it before the real damage began. Dirt flew for a second as he hurried to cover the fried grass before anything sprang back up. Then he turned to the boys.
“How old are you?” His gaze was directed at John B but JJ felt his own body stiffen at the raised voice.
For his part, John B stood quite frozen as well, fingers picking lightly at the bottom of his tee and eyes boring holes into the dampened ground.
“It was my fault, Mr. Routledge.” JJ piped up. Because he couldn’t let his friend take the brunt of his mistake no matter how nervous Big John’s angry eyes — now planted firmly on him — made him feel.
“It was a shared responsibility,” Big John said, letting out a puff of air. “And I expect you boys to be old enough to take this as a lesson in and of itself and not require a lecture,” he gave John B a pointed look, “though I think you and I are going to have another sit down about fire safety rules tomorrow.”
John B nodded solemnly. “Sorry, Dad.”
“Heaven knows the shit I was doing at this age,” Big John muttered under his breath.
JJ felt his own muscles relaxing at the quick de-escalation. Could that really be it? A few angry words, a long drawn out sigh, and a series of muttering as Big John turned back to the fire.
Next thing JJ knew, two sticks were extended their way. And not in a “get ready to take a beating” kind of way, just passed around the pit all slow like.
“Let’s try this one more time, shall we?” Big John said as the boys both hesitated to take the offered sticks. “And this time let's try to keep the fire inside the pit, huh?
New marshmallows were added to the ends of the sticks and the JJ followed John B’s lead in hovering the stick a respectable distance above the flame. When the white of the marshmallow barely began to brown, they both rotated the sticks to let the other side melt as well. Maybe a little too cautious this time, the marshmallows came off the fire less brown than they would typically be but also fire-free. So… middle ground was met.
John B cracked a smile as JJ pulled his s’’more back from his face.
“Wha’?” JJ mumbled around a mouthful of a gooey treat.
“Only you could get that messy from one bit, J. Only you.”
JJ swatted at his arm. “Shut up.”
John B just chuckled, wiping some marshmallow off his finger onto JJ’s nose. JJ stepped back with a huff as he pulled his own s’more apart and pressed one half to John B’s cheek. Then, while John B scrubbed irritably at the sticky mess on his face, JJ threw the other half in his mouth, smirking.
“Don’t mess with a Maybank, dude,” JJ shrugged. “Never ends well.”
John B opened his mouth to retort but the sound of an engine cut him off, bringing a truck barreling down the long drive. It was obviously old. Rusted metal lining the sides like streaks of burnt glitter. The hood was popped slightly on the left side due to the compacted front that could have only been a result of an accident or the beating of debris from a hurricane. The back of the truck hung open, tailgate snapping up and down as the vehicle bounced along the drive at unnatural speeds.
JJ recognized the truck instantly. It was his dad’s.
The truck pulled to a stop, the driver clearly slamming on the break to avoid cutting through the grass. Both boys stood shoulder to shoulder, staring in silence, and from the corner of his eye JJ could see Big John already taking a couple steps forward, concern lining his eyes.
The car door snapped open.
JJ felt himself tensing.
A woman stepped out.
JJ’s shoulders uncoiled.
“Momma?”
His mother ran a hand through her hair, scratching at the back of her neck. “Hey, JJ. You having fun?”
JJ stepped away from John B, making his way closer to his mother. “Yeah, yeah I am? Why are you here?”
His mother ran a hand through her hair again and this time JJ noted how her fingers shook, and her red rimmed eyes, and the fresh blotchy mark along her right cheek.
“I came to pick you up, J. I think it’s time you stopped exploiting hospitality, you’ve been here too long.” Her voice was soft, light, but JJ could hear the threat behind it. He was in trouble.
JJ tried to keep any anger out as he tilted his head to the side and asked, “What’s wrong, Momma?”
But her tone did sharpen this time, not quite a yell, but not gentle either. “I told you already. You’ve been here too long, J! It’s time to get back.”
Big John stepped forward at that. His hands fisted in his pockets and subtly shifting weight between his feet. “Uh, you know, ma'am, your son hasn’t been any trouble. We don’t mind keeping him a couple more hours. I can drop him off at your place later.”
Her head shot in Big John’s direction like a startled deer who just realized a car was parked on the edge of the road watching it. With another person in sight, her demeanor suddenly changed, eyes turning soft and smiling brushing along her lips. She ran her hand through her hair once more, this time shifting the golden locks to fall over the angry mark so it was no longer visible.
“I appreciate that, but I think it’s best I take him home now. His father wants to see him, needs some help in the garage, and heaven knows I don’t know nothing when it comes to cars.”
Dad wanted him. That couldn’t be good.
“But it’s only seven; you said I could stay until nine,” JJ protested although he was really pushing his luck here.
John B chimed in as well. “Please let him stay a little bit longer. We’ll bring him over soon.”
JJ shot his mom a hopeful look, but the way her eyes rolled into a tight grimace said more than the words she muttered next.
“You have to come home now, J. You can hang out with your friend at school on Monday.”
And the fact that she hadn’t mentioned anything about going out over the weekend told JJ exactly the state he would be left in after he went back home. His shoulders rose to his ears as he turned to say his goodbye to John B.
“It was fun hanging out, Bree. Your house is nicer than I thought it would be.”
John B looked crestfallen at the early cut off to their night as well. “Yeah, I had fun too. Maybe you can come by over the weekend?”
JJ shook his head. “Probably not. I’ll see you Monday though.”
“Okay,” John B leaned in closer to whisper. “You can come by whenever you want. Dad either works most of the day or he’s in his office so if we stay in my room or outside he won’t know.”
Tears welled in JJ’s eyes and his chest tightened. He’d spent two hours here and he already knew he’d rather stay than go back to his own home. There was just an air about the Chateau that invited someone to relax. Maybe it was the relative absence of trash littered around the house, or old rusted pieces in the yard. Maybe it was the fact that John B’s room had a friendly blue comforter that looked like the ocean, or that his bedroom door didn’t tediously hang off its top hinge. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because Big John had sat outside with them as they screeched and yelled and tried to scorch the yard…
“JJ! Come now.” The car door slammed as his mother jumped into the driver’s seat.
“See ya, Bree.” JJ offered a wave before turning away and sliding into the passenger seat of the truck.
The engine revved as the key turned, and JJ heard John B’s yell of “anytime” over the sound. Then they were pulling out of the drive and heading to the home JJ knew all his life and away from the one he already liked better.