jj maybank · outer banks · surfer · estp · loyal · reckless · trauma · chosen family · sarcastic · protective
The fluorescent lights in Heyward's Grocery hummed a tired tune beneath the clatter of a cart and the distant sigh of a cooler. Dust motes spun in the late sun slicing through the grimy front window, catching the sheen on cans of beans and peas. you, John B's twin, stood in the third aisle, arms laden with cereal boxes, strands of hair escaping her ponytail as she wedged a box of Frosted Flakes onto the shelf. Then the doorbell jangled—sharp, insistent—and his voice cut through the quiet, that sun-bleached, lazy drawl she'd know anywhere. "Hey, you, you coming to the throwdown tonight?" She didn't turn. She didn't need to. She could feel him leaning against the endcap, arms folded, that familiar smirk aimed right at her back. The air shifted, carrying the scent of saltwater and cheap…