Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clay

Clay Jensen settled into his office, arranging his things, but focus kept slipping away. His eyes kept drifting toward the file on the desk a file he had every right to open and read, yet he wanted to focus on settling in before starting work.

He fought his curiosity, truly, but eventually lost the battle and surrendered with a long, dramatic sigh. Clay was fairly sure the principal next door had heard it.

When his eyes finally locked on the file, he read the name printed across it with full concentration: Jackson James Maybank.

He straightened and opened the folder his first individual case, no supervisor, no mentor, just Clay.

Ignoring the noise of students in the hallway and the girl standing silently in the corner of the office, he began to read.

Disrespect toward authority. Unstable mood. Frequent absences. Repeated fights with peers. Improper behavior. Escaping school grounds. Random outbursts toward teachers and students.

Clay frowned. None of this would help him understand the boy, let alone help him.

No mention of his life outside school. No background. Nothing human.

Just labels and complaints from tired teachers opinions, not attempts at guidance.

He closed the folder and lightly knocked his forehead against the desk.

In fifteen minutes, he'd have to meet this kid, and the only thing he knew for sure was that everyone thought he'd be trouble.

"No," Clay muttered.

He wouldn't judge before meeting him.

If the file was useless, he'd make a new one himself.

His eyes fell on the clock. Minutes passed one, five, fifteen.

The hands ticked past 10:45 a.m.

When Jackson was ten minutes late, Clay began to lose hope.

Then a sharp knock pulled him out of the fog in his head.

"Come in," Clay called.

The door opened, and a blond boy stepped in hair messy, grin wide and arrogant. He didn't ask for permission, just tossed his light backpack onto the table. It hit with a loud thud, scattering some of Clay's pens and papers to the floor, before the boy dropped casually into the chair across from him.

Clay smiled in return, determined not to give the kid the satisfaction of getting under his skin.

"You must be Jackson James Maybank," he began, pretending to read the name off the folder.

Jackson's expression soured at the sound of his full name.

He glanced at the brass nameplate on the desk, then smirked again.

"And you must be Student Counselor, Clayton Jason Jensen," JJ mocked.

"Clay," he corrected smoothly. "You can call me Clay."

"Good," the boy replied with a crooked grin. "You can call me JJ."

=-=====-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=====-=

Cora Wardwell

Eli Wardwell

OBX cast as they are

13 Reasons Why cast as they are

Chapter Text

Clay

The two of them stayed in that polite silence for a moment before Clay finally asked, "Alright, JJ. I want you to tell me about yourself."

JJ's eyes widened slightly before he caught himself, lifting one eyebrow."You think this is a date, Mr. Counselor?"

Clay didn't answer. He started writing something in his notebook instead.

JJ frowned. "I asked you a question and you're writing? What are you even writing?"

He leaned forward, trying to peek, but Clay quietly tilted the notebook away and waited.

The silence dragged on until JJ sighed.

"Fine. I don't know what you want to know. Be more specific."

Clay smiled lightly.

"Start with your hobbies."

JJ sighed again, running a hand through his hair, surrendering to the conversation.

"Hanging out with my friends. Surfing. I don't really see the point of these questions. Aren't you supposed to warn me and send me back to class?"

"Is that what your last counselor used to do?" Clay asked.

JJ looked confused.

"Yeah?"

Clay had expected that, but didn't react. He'd taken this job to help kids٫ the way he wished someone had helped him, or Justin, or... Hannah.

His eyes flicked to the corner of the room before returning to JJ.

He had to remember: not everyone in this job wanted to help. Some were just here for the paycheck.

"Look," Clay said, nodding toward the file on his desk, "I've got a folder here full of information about you. I don't want to form an opinion based only on that. I want to help you, and for that, I need to actually know you. Some of the questions might sound stupid, but answer them anyway preferably honestly."

When their eyes met again, Clay saw surprise flicker in JJ's face.

"Alright," JJ said quietly. "I'll try."

Clay waited. He didn't want to steer the talk — he wanted JJ to decide what to share.

To his surprise, JJ blurted out, "When I was younger, I wanted to be a cop."

Clay looked at him and saw that he seemed embarrassed by his own words or by how quickly they'd slipped out.

"That's good," Clay said softly. "Is that still something you think about?"

"No," JJ muttered, shaking his head. "Not really. Doesn't seem like a good idea anymore."

Clay thought the conversation couldn't get more awkward, but maybe this was the right path talking about the future instead of the past.

"And why's that?" he asked.

"You're new here," JJ said flatly. "Give it some time and you'll see why it's not a good idea."

And just like that, all of Clay's optimism went down the drain.

JJ's familiar smirk returned as he leaned back in the chair, pretending not to care but Clay saw something different this time.

A wall. Built brick by brick around the boy, and Clay wasn't sure he could get through it.

Still, he didn't give up.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"I don't want to talk about that," JJ said sharply. "Why don't we talk about why I'm really here?"

Clay exhaled. "From what I understand, you got into a fight. You threw the first punch. Why don't you tell me why?"

JJ laughed.

"What's funny?" Clay asked.

"The question," JJ said with a grin. "What does it matter now? It happened. Tell me not to do it again, and just send me back to class."

"Tell me the reason first," Clay said calmly, "and then I'll send you back to class. No more questions after that. How's that sound?"

JJ hesitated, thinking it over, then nodded in reluctant defeat.

"Topper was talking crap about my friends. I couldn't take it. That's what happened."

Friends.

Clay recalled JJ's earlier words "hanging out with my friends" and realized they weren't just a casual answer.

This is not a typical answer to the question, "What is your hobby?"

loyalty.

Clay smiled faintly.

"Alright. You can go back to class now. Just... don't let it happen again."

JJ gave a small smirk, stood, and gathered his things.

As he reached the door, Clay added,

"I'll see you at the same time next week."

"What? Why? You said no more questions."

"No more questions for today," Clay replied with a patient smile. "See you next week, JJ."

JJ stomped his foot like a frustrated kid, muttering curses as he left the office. Clay tried to pretend he didn't hear them.

The first session wasn't a total failure but it wasn't a success either.

He loosened his tie, exhaled, feeling cold sweat slide down his spine. God, he was tense.

"Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

Clay looked up. She was sitting in the same chair JJ had just left.

"And who would that be?" he asked, a faint smirk forming.

"Justin."

Chapter Text

JJ

JJ walked through the empty halls of Kildare High, heading toward class after leaving the guidance counselor’s office. The echo of their conversation still rang in his head.

He did everything he could not to think, messed with his unkempt hair, kicked an imaginary ball down the hall, even slapped his own face once or twice, trying to knock Clay’s question out of his mind.

"I want you to tell me about yourself."

Sixteen years of life, and no one had ever asked him that before.
Why would they? Everyone already knew who JJ Maybank was.

So he never thought about how to answer that question. Who was he, really?

He didn’t know. He only knew what people said about him.

Mike Carrera said he was a thief most of the time, even in front of Kiara.

Mr. Heyward said he was a bad influence, that he’d drag Pope down with him.

The Kooks thought he’d end up in jail one day.

And his father.

Yeah, his father had always been honest about what he thought too. A useless little piece of shit.

The loud ring of the bell announcing the start of class snapped JJ out of his head. He stumbled down the hall toward his classroom, and when he reached the closed door, his hand touched the handle — only to pull back like it was burning him.

One day wouldn’t hurt.

He slipped quietly through the hallways toward the chemistry lab, avoiding teachers as best he could. When he reached the empty room, he shut the door behind him, walked straight to the window, opened it wide, and tossed his backpack outside — then followed it himself.

By the time he hit the parking lot, he took a long, happy breath.

Freedom.

He swung his leg over his dirt bike, ignoring the helmet.

Who was he?
It didn't matter right now.
Right now, he was going surfing.

He kicked the bike alive, the wind hit his face, and the familiar salt of the ocean air filled his lungs.

=-=====-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=====-=

Clay 

Clay didn’t talk much to the girl, not like he used to when he was younger. But he didn’t have to work too hard to ignore her, because not even thirty minutes later, someone knocked sharply on his door and walked in without waiting for permission.

The principal entered like he owned the place. “How are you finding the school so far, Clay?” he asked, locking eyes with him, something about his tone already rubbed Clay the wrong way.

“It’s been fine so far,” Clay answered flatly.

“Oh, good. How was your meeting with Mr. Maybank?” the principal asked.

Clay smiled genuinely this time. “It went well. I think he’s a good kid. I actually had a few ideas about how I could help—”

“Maybank skipped class,” the principal cut in, his voice dry. “Or, to be more accurate he ran off again.”

Clay froze, the smile fading. The principal looked annoyed.

“Don’t worry, it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. That boy’s a problem, Clay. You should just be grateful he didn’t drag any of his friends with him this time. Look, I think you’ll do great here. But don’t waste your energy on kids like Maybank. You’ll only end up disappointed.”

He said it like a man reading a script he’d recited a hundred times before, then turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him without waiting for a reply.

Clay sat there, biting his lip, guilt spreading through his chest.

He replayed the conversation with JJ in his mind, word by word, searching for what he might have said and what he might have done to make the boy angry enough to skip school.

=-=====-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=====-=

JJ

When JJ reached home and saw his father’s truck parked out front, his stomach dropped. He hadn’t thought about it on the way back; he’d assumed his dad was working. But Luke being home this early was never a good sign.

He just had to get in and out fast, no problems. As soon as he stepped onto the porch, the sight hit him again, something he’d never gotten used to. Empty beer cans, oil stains, trash scattered around, and that stale air that made his skin crawl instead of disgust him.

He sighed and breathed through his mouth, pushing the front door open as quietly as he could. He shut it softly and walked on his toes through the living room with no sign of his father. Relief flooded through him.

Maybe Luke had gone out, maybe a friend picked him up. He started toward his room, but from the corner of his eye, he saw him — out in the backyard, slumped in a chair.

JJ swore under his breath, hoping he was passed out and hadn’t heard the bike. He ignored everything else and rushed to his room. It was a mess, the kind of disaster he’d never let his friends see. God forbid they ever stepped inside this house.

His surfboard leaned beside the desk where he’d pinned all the things worth remembering: Photos of him and the Pogues, his old history test from fifth grade that Pope helped him pass, a picture of him and John B with a fish too big for either of them to lift.

And one smaller photo.His parents, sitting side by side, with little JJ on their lap. His dad kissing his mom’s cheek. JJ smiling wide at the camera, two missing front teeth and everything.

He pulled the pin, took the photo down, stared at his mother’s face, and smiled faintly. But what burned in his chest wasn’t her, it was his father’s eyes.

He sighed, slipped the photo into his pocket, grabbed his surfboard, then remembered the stash of weed under the mattress. He lifted it halfway before a voice froze him.

“Well, look who decided to visit his old man.”

JJ dropped the mattress and looked up, caught in the glare of Luke’s cold, tired eyes.

“H–Hey, Dad.”Luke’s smile spread slow, mocking. He stumbled forward until they stood face to face close enough that JJ could taste the alcohol in the air.

“‘Hey, Dad,’” Luke repeated, mimicking him.“A whole damn week gone, then you sneak back in like a rat. You ungrateful little shit.”

“I’m sorry, Dad—”

“Shut up.” Luke’s voice cracked like a whip, and JJ flinched.

“I told you to clean the house. I had people coming over. Did you? No. You disappear instead.”

Right. He remembered now. He was supposed to clean, but he’d gone surfing and thought he’d beat his dad home. When he saw Luke’s friends there later that night, he just… didn’t come back. He forgot. Luke didn’t.

“No answer?” Luke growled. “I tell you to do something, and you ignore me? Why?”

JJ looked anywhere but his eyes. Luke’s hand shot out, gripping his jaw tight, forcing him to look up.

“Say something.”

There was nothing JJ could say that would matter. He’d learned silence was safer. Any word, any breath could become fuel for his father’s rage. He knew even if he knelt and kissed his father’s foot, Luke would twist it into a lie, call it manipulation and kick him with the same foot he’d kissed.

JJ opened his mouth to answer, but the words never came. Luke didn’t wait. The blow came fast and hard, a back of a closed fist.

JJ’s body snapped back, crashing into the corner of the wooden bed. The bed shook. An empty beer can rolled across the floor, the metallic clink echoing in the quiet house.

Pain flared through his jaw first, then a sharp sting above his right eye, followed by the metallic scent of blood. He touched his face. His fingers came away red, his nose bleeding, a deep cut above his eyebrow.

He didn’t cry. Didn’t speak.

He just swallowed the pain and looked up at his father not in defiance, but to see if it was over.

Luke only snorted, bored now more than angry, and turned away.

He left the room, door slamming behind him. JJ adjusted himself, sitting up against the bed, breathing slow.

It was over.

He’d survived another storm.

Chapter Text

JJ

When JJ finally regained the urge to leave, when the numbness faded, the kind that hadn't come from any of his injuries, he stood up and felt the ground tilt under him.

He looked at his surfboard with longing. His thoughts drifted to spending an entire afternoon out on the water, trying to imagine anything except his father's hand gripping his arm.

Blood ran down from above his eyebrow to his neck. He glanced at his shirt collar and saw it was red. He grabbed one of the shirts lying on the floor, walked to the counter, and looked at his reflection. His jaw tightened in anger when he saw the bruise forming along his cheek and jawline. He wiped the blood off his eyebrow just to see what was underneath.

When he thought he had cleaned it, he realized the cut was deeper than he had imagined. It would definitely need stitches. The hospital was never a good idea. He had to go to Ricky and pray he would not close the door in his face. He already owed his cousin too much for taking weed from him without giving anything back.

He sighed and fought the urge to slam his head on the table. He had already taken his share for the day, so he was not careful when he left his room or when he closed the front door loudly behind him.

When the motorcycle engine started, JJ greeted the loud sound with a smile, hoping it would drown out the voices creeping into his mind. Ignoring the rules of speed and safety, he rode like a madman toward the deeper part of the Cut, where Ricky's trailer was.

He smiled as he drove, and for a moment, JJ actually breathed. He was not thinking or feeling, only the wind hitting his face. He closed his eyes for a second to enjoy the strange, beautiful feeling, but that second was enough.

A car horn blared. When JJ opened his eyes, he saw a sedan right in front of him. He swerved quickly, avoiding it, but lost control. The bike hit the curb, and JJ was thrown over it, crashing into the ditch behind.

He rolled on the ground twice before landing on his back. Above him, the trees broke the sunlight into scattered rays. The blue sky reminded him of the ocean. He imagined it moving like waves, carrying his friends above it.

He should have checked his body before imagining the sky as the sea and his friends above it, but he wanted to hold onto that feeling from a moment ago. He did not want it to leave him.

"Are you okay?"

JJ blinked, dug his hands into the dirt, and pushed himself up with a weak groan. He looked toward the voice and saw a woman standing on the road with a small girl beside her. When JJ noticed the child's wide eyes, he remembered the blood on his face and turned his gaze away.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, you can go," JJ shouted, still looking at the trees.

He heard footsteps behind him and sighed but did not turn around.
"Can you look at me so I can make sure you're okay?" the woman said.

JJ knew she would not leave until she saw him. He gave up but had to make sure of one thing. "Make sure the little girl is in the car."

"What? Why?" This woman was already giving him a headache.

"Just do it. I'm not sure my face is something a kid should see right now," he said quietly, lifting the end of his shirt and wiping the blood from his face.

"Of course. Do I need the first aid kit?" she asked.

"I think so."

He heard her footsteps move away, and then the girl arguing loudly, saying she wanted to stay.

"You can't stay, Hannah. I'll just make sure he's okay and then we'll go home." JJ only caught that part, then heard the girl shouting that she wanted ice cream, which made him snort and smile faintly.

It did not take long before the woman came back, carrying the first aid kit. She crouched in front of him, smiling, but her smile vanished as soon as she saw him clearly.

"Oh my god, are you serious, kid?" she said, her expression turning stern. It reminded him of Kiara before she would smack him for saying something stupid.

"I panicked. The kid was there, and my face was covered in blood. What was I supposed to say?" JJ said, nervous under her raised brow.

"Anything but 'I'm fine,' literally," she sighed.

JJ imagined steam coming out of her nose and smiled at the picture. He was still smiling when she snapped her fingers near his face, pulling him back.

"What are you smiling at? You're covered in blood."

"Nothing." Under her unimpressed look, he added, "Something stupid. Probably not something that would make that frown disappear. I'm the injured one here, woman, not you."

"You're injured because you're an idiot who rode where you shouldn't. And calling me 'Woman' instead of asking for my name politely is a choice you'll regret when I disinfect that cut."

His eyes widened in mock fear before he asked with fake politeness, "Would you do me the honor of telling me your name, ma'am?"

That earned him a small smile. "Ani."

"Now that you've shared your name, Miss Ani, can I ask for one small favor?" JJ said, giving her a pitiful, pleading look. She gestured for him to continue. "Please be gentle with the cleaning part ."

"I will if you tell me your name," Ani said as she opened the first aid kit and took out the supplies. JJ looked at the bottle of antiseptic like it was his enemy, which it was.

"JJ," he said with a charming smile that disappeared as soon as the disinfectant touched his skin.

"JJ, this might sting a little," Ani said with a sweet smile.

JJ tried to smile bravely, but it made him look more like a scared cat than a brave lion.

Every time she cleaned a wound, curses formed in his mouth but died under her glare. She looked ready to clean his mouth too, so he gave up and stayed quiet.

When she was done, she looked at the gash on his forehead with concern. She pressed a temporary bandage over it and said, "This needs stitches. I'll take you to the hospital."

"No." JJ caught her wrist mid-air, then quickly let go and cleared his throat before speaking fast. "No hospital. I was heading to my cousin. He's a medic, he'll take care of it."

"The hospital is close, I can take you," Ani said gently.

"I can't afford it, and my cousin is used to fixing me up," JJ said quickly, trying to convince her to leave it alone.

"I can't let you ride that bike like this, JJ. I can take you to the hospital, don't worry about the money," Ani said reasonably.

Her tone made him even more irritated. The polite act disappeared, replaced with anger. "I can handle it. I don't need your help."

He jumped to his feet and stormed toward his bike, ignoring Ani's voice calling for him to wait.

When he reached the bike and set it upright, he tried to start it. Nothing. Tried again. Again. "Piece of garbage!" he shouted, kicking the bike hard, only to scream in pain and grab his foot, hopping on the other.

A loud laugh came from behind him. He turned and saw the little girl giggling at his misery. "Kids," JJ muttered under his breath.

Ani reached the curb, still holding the first aid kit, and sighed.

"Alright, how about I just drive you to your cousin's?"

JJ kicked a rock on the ground. "That would be nice," he said flatly.

Ani looked at him like he was insane but went to put the kit in the car. She told Hannah to get in the back seat, then motioned for JJ to get in too.

He dragged his feet like a prisoner walking to his execution before climbing inside.

JJ closed the door and folded his arms. When the silence stretched, he glanced to the side and saw Ani's raised eyebrow. He somehow knew the car would not move until he put on his seatbelt.

He reached for it, and as he pulled it across his chest, a small face popped up between the front seats, smiling with four fingers raised.

"I'm four!" Hannah said proudly.

JJ smiled and gasped. "Really? You look like you're ten."

The girl laughed and reached out her hand for a handshake.

"I like you. I'm Hannah. What's your name?"

"JJ."

Her eyes lit up. She turned to her mom with excitement, which Ani quickly shut down. "No, we're not calling you HH. Sit back, Hannah."

The girl obeyed, buckled her seatbelt, and looked at her mom through the mirror before sticking her tongue out.

JJ grinned at Ani's annoyed expression, then, just to mess with her, stuck his tongue out too. Hannah's laugh filled the car again.

When Ani finally drove off and JJ began giving her directions, he felt a bit more at ease. He glanced at the back seat, where Hannah sat with a picture book in her hands, tongue poking between her lips.

His father would have slapped him if he had ever stuck his tongue out. No, there was a time his father would have smiled and ruffled his hair.

JJ sank into the seat and noticed Ani looking at him from time to time. He ignored it.

When they were close enough to Ricky's trailer, JJ asked her to stop because he did not want her to know the exact place. She followed his word and pulled over to the side of the road.

JJ opened the door, grabbing his bag. "Uh, thanks for the ride," he said.

Ani smiled. "Don't worry about it. Take care, JJ."

Once he was out and a safe distance away, he turned and waved.

"Bye, HH!" JJ shouted.

And ran off, smiling proudly when he heard the sound of Hannah laughter behind him.

Chapter Text

JJ

“Done,” Ricky said, wiping over the clean bandage. He looked JJ in the eyes and held a finger in front of his nose. “Two days. Hear me? Two days before you take it off, not less. And in a week, come back and I’ll pull the stitches.”

He tossed the gloves into the bin and started wiping the table.

JJ sank into the worn-out couch in the middle of Ricky’s trailer. He’d been here a million times, but he was only now noticing how nothing made sense. Ricky’s trailer was always a mess, but this… this was another level. Clothes everywhere. And some of them weren’t even Ricky’s. Jeans Ricky couldn’t fit in those if his life depended on it. And a bunch of black T-shirts JJ had never seen him wear.

“Is someone living with you?”

Ricky looked up from the tiny sink, smiled, and said, “Lucas. He’s out.”

JJ shot up from the couch like a firework and practically slammed into his cousin, who immediately tried to put distance between them.

“Are you serious? When? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

JJ unloaded questions like bullets, not waiting for a single answer, and immediately started cursing Lucas for not telling him.

Ricky—done with JJ destroying his eardrum—grabbed him by the shoulders and held him still.

“Calm down, man. He didn’t tell anyone.”

JJ raised a brow, pissed, shaking his head at the obvious lie. But before he could say a word, Ricky cut him off “Except me. And not because he wanted to. He needed a place to stay.”

JJ bit his lip and looked at his cousin. “Okay… but why?”

Ricky stepped away and wiped his face.

“Look… yeah, he got out. But our father didn’t. So the second-best option? Lucas. You know how my dad is… he owes a lot of people a lot of money.”

JJ understood, but one thing still didn’t add up.

“Okay, but why is Lucas the second option? Why not you?”

Ricky smirked. “And now we know who your favorite is.”

JJ’s face lit up red and he stumbled over some excuses Ricky waved off immediately.

“Relax. I’m not an option anyway. I never took part in anything Lucas and my dad did, so no one’s coming after me.”

“So Lucas is hiding here from some bad guys who want a piece of his ass. That's about right?”

Ricky nodded.

JJ continued, “Where is he now?”

“No idea. Leaves in the morning, comes back around midnight. You know Lucas—he’s terrible at hiding.”

JJ laughed. Lucas had always been terrible at hiding.Three years since they’d last seen each other—all because JJ’s father had banned him from visiting Lucas. “Bad influence,” he’d said with a straight face while snorting cocaine off the table. The man was good at everything… except hiding his own hypocrisy.

“Now tell me how you got that injury. Your old man roughing you up again?” Ricky asked, pretending to be casual, but his eyes gave away the worry.

“It’s not as bad as before. I barely go home anymore.”

Ricky let out a breath he’d been holding, and JJ smiled at him.Ricky stepped back instantly when he saw that mischievous look in JJ’s eyes.

JJ trapped him against the counter and grabbed his face with both hands.

“Look at you. Ricky Maybank, worried about his baby cousin. Who would’ve thought?”

JJ pressed two wet, obnoxious kisses to Ricky’s cheeks. Ricky twisted like a snake trying to escape, then wiped his cheeks in disgust before glaring at JJ.

“You’re disgusting.”

JJ only grinned.

Ricky sighed, then looked serious. “If you ever need anything… come here.”

He meant it. And that alone made JJ’s chest ache. Everyone got to be kind—except his father.

JJ smirked and said, “I need some weed.”

“Get out.”

=-=====-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=====-=

Clay 

Clay wasn’t surprised that the first thing to greet him at home was a wild little creature charging straight at him. He caught Hannah before she collided with him, lifted her into the air, and looked into her wide eyes and blinding smile. Every ounce of exhaustion disappeared.

“Daddy!” she screamed, throwing her skinny arms around his neck and burying her face into his shoulder. Her hair got straight into his mouth, but Clay ignored it. He rubbed her back gently and looked up, seeing his wife leaning from the living room doorway with a soft smile.

Still holding Hannah, Clay walked over and kissed Ani.

Hannah’s muffled voice came from his shoulder: “I missed you.”

Clay pulled her back to see her face. “I missed you too.”

He kissed her forehead, then looked at Ani, arms crossed, waiting for him. “And I missed your mom too.”

Ani smiled.

Clay set Hannah down and dropped onto the couch. The TV in the corner played cartoons. Ani quietly disappeared toward the kitchen and dining area—visible from where he sat.

Hannah climbed onto the couch across from him, vibrating with leftover energy, eyes begging him to ask.

Clay laughed. “Okay. Did something exciting happen today?”

She lit up.

“I want to change my name to HH! And I met the coolest boy ever! And I ate ice cream!”

Clay opened his mouth to match her enthusiasm but… none of that made sense. He looked at Ani. “What?”

Ani shouted from the kitchen, “Nothing important! Don’t encourage her. I don’t want her getting used to it.”

Clay could only smile as Hannah stomped toward her room, yelling about her boring mother and coward father.

Clay hadn’t even had a moment to relax before his phone rang.
He pulled it out and saw Justin’s name.

He answered to the sound of machines, metal, and random yelling.

“Hold up one second!” Justin shouted.

Clay was used to Justin calling him from the middle of the auto shop like he wasn’t holding a live drill in his hand.

A moment later, Justin finally spoke.

“Clay! How are you doing, man?”

“Pretty much the same as the last two times you asked me. Yesterday,” Clay shot back.

“Good, good. You’re the only person who gets pissed about having a perfect brother like me.”

“Perfect, huh? Let me just summarize this for you: Hannah’s great and still loves her favorite uncle. And no, she didn’t forget what you look like—I show her your picture every day. And ِAni’s fine too.”

Clay smiled when he heard Justin groan like a kicked dog.

“Screw you. How was your first day at work?”

Clay slapped his forehead hard. Great. Another question added to Justin’s arsenal.

“It was fine. And a new rule: don’t ask about work unless we’re face-to-face.”

Clay felt proud of himself, clean boundary.

But Justin’s laugh killed the satisfaction immediately.

“Why are you laughing?” Clay asked.

“Because… it’ll be sooner than you think. Thanksgiving’s coming up.”

Clay narrowed his eyes. “We agreed we’re not meeting this year. Mom and Dad are going to Italy.”

“Yeah, but our beloved old friend Zach Dempsey decided this year needs a reunion. He made plans.”

Clay could practically see that smug grin.

“What plans?”

“He wants surf lessons. We’re coming for Thanksgiving. And you can’t stop us, brother.”

“I hate my life.”

=-=====-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=====-=

JJ

JJ lay on the fold-out couch at the Chateau, waiting for his friends.

After thirty messages Pope scolding him for skipping school, John B complaining about being ditched, Kiara asking where he was he finally answered.

The Twinkie’s engine roared outside, followed by yelling, slamming doors, and footsteps rushing up the porch. He could hear all of them now.

“Are you sure he said he’s at the Chateau? I don’t see his bike,” Pope said first. Kiara followed immediately after.

“Yes, Pope, I’m sure. Want me to show you the damn proof?”

Pope apologized, John B laughed as he entered first.

JJ sat up just as John B’s wide smile died when he saw him.

“What the hell—what happened to your face?” John B yelled.

Fair reaction. JJ’s face was a disaster: a massive bruise stretching from jaw to cheek, his shirt soaked in dried blood, and even parts of his blond hair were stained red.

“I fell off my bike,” JJ said, staring back at them.

Pope’s eyes were huge. John B was angry but not at JJ—he was angry at who caused it. Kiara, meanwhile, smiled a cold, vicious smile that made JJ shrink.

“JJ, why weren’t you wearing your helmet? You promised, you absolute idiot.” She launched herself at him and slapped his chest.

“I didn’t think I’d fall!” JJ shouted, trying and failing to block her hits.

“No one thinks they will. That’s why normal people take precautions,” Kiara fired back before dropping beside him.

Saint Pope, bless his soul, asked, “Are you okay?”

JJ smiled at Pope and shrugged. “Yeah. Just a few stitches. But I’ll live. My cousin’s hands are magic, you know.”

He stretched out on the couch and elbowed Kiara in the ribs. A little revenge.

Kiara bought it.

Pope bought it.

John B did not.

He kept studying JJ’s face, then asked quietly, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Now tell me—where’s the princess?” Kiara scoffed next to him, mood suddenly sour.

“Her best friend came back,” she muttered, staring at her nails.

“Who?” JJ asked.

“The Wardwell twins,” John B answered.

JJ’s eyes widened. His heart skipped a few beats.

“Yep. And Sarah went home to get ready for the welcome-back party,” Pope said, squeezing himself between JJ and Kiara.

Cora and Eli are back.