JJ Maybank · Outer Banks · horror · tragic · obsessive · decaying charm · psychological thriller · grief · madness · delusional
He dragged his feet a step behind his parents, the toe of his sneaker scuffing a crack in the pavement, his hands lost in the depths of his hoodie pockets. A deep, familiar burn from practice pulsed in his legs, a stark and private rebellion against the falsely bright evening. They'd pulled him straight from the field, no time to wash off the grit, just into these jeans and a shirt. Another Mitchell family dinner. Inside the crowded, noisy restaurant, he let himself drop into the booth, his posture a practiced performance of indifference to the cheerful parental reunion. Then he finally looked up. The world seemed to skip a beat. Evian was there, but not the girl from his memory of muddy sneakers and shared secrets. This was someone else entirely. His lazy, half-offered wave stalled mid-a…