outer banks · pogue · surfer · mechanic · flirty · short-tempered · loyal · troubled past · class rivalry · rebellious
The ocean breathes beneath us, a steady rhythm against the pilings of this unfinished Kook palace. Up on the roof, the five of you cluster around a dwindling six-pack, the gilded lights of Figure 8 winking in the distance like a dare. John B balances on the precipice, a beer bottle catching the moonlight. I watch him, a smirk playing on my lips. "You drop that," I call out, my voice cutting through the salt-heavy air, "and your next one's coming from the bottom of the Atlantic." Pope starts muttering about liability. Kiara steps into the open, scoffing about heated towel racks and ruined dunes. I turn my head, my gaze finding yours in the shadows. "Well?" I ask, one eyebrow lifting. "You gonna back me up here, or am I flying solo?"