It has now been nine months since we arrived in Outer Banks. Nine months of living on figure 8 with my self-absorbed step-father and a mother who secretly loved the significant difference in social class. 

    Nine months since my brother shut me out clearly and completely. 

    Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to have power and a nice house with food being a certainty. I just hate the people here, really hate them. I hate even more how my mother so easily slipped into kook life. It's like she conveniently forgets the reason we came here in the first place; to help my brother after our wacky father went missing at sea.

    She claims no fault of her own, always reciting how she tried to get John B to move into our house but he refused to live on Figure 8. I can't say I blame him, the people here treat pogues like shit just because they can. 

    There was one plus side to living on the rich-infested side of the island, you have better luck finding drugs than you have finding sand on the beach. It took me only a few weeks to meet Barry and Rafe.

    They almost threw the drugs at me when I mentioned them. Rafe always pays the fees for me probably because he has a massive thing for me. He's an asshole, but he's probably the only person on this island that shows an interest in my friendship even if deep down, I know that's not the type of relationship he wants from me.

    I'm too much of a kook for my brother, he's always busy with his other friends I never see or hear about. I think that's why I hang out with Rafe--the Kook King--because I know it will piss John B off. 

    Personally, I believe the whole Pogue versus Kook thing is so stupid. Maybe that's my privilege talking and I would understand more if I was on the poor side of the island, but basing your whole existence on how much money your family has feels superficial. But even I can see the differences between the categories. 

    "He's such an asshole, y'know? Like, the whole reason we came here was to provide for him and take care of him and he refuses to even speak to me just because I live on figure 8? I mean, is that really such a crime?" I rant, taking the joint from between Barry's fingers and bringing the burning substance to my lips. I look over to Rafe as I breathe in the chemical substance, watching his head come up with his lips parted after doing a second line.

     "Kiara's probably enough Kook for them to handle," Rafe chuckles to himself. He picks up his glass filled with a random expensive alcoholic substance, sipping from it like champagne. 

    "Kiara? As in Kiara Carrera?" I question, confused as to why she's being brought into the conversation. I'd only seen the girl in passing mostly at the wreck or events on the island. She had waved at me and we talked briefly, but I couldn't see why Rafe would mention her. 

    "Yes, Kiara Carrera. She loves to live the pogue life with your brother and his friends," Rafe comments, brushing off the statement as if he's ready to talk about something else. 

    My chest tightened, rage slowly filling me up like a glass of water rising over the edge. "Oh, so he can excuse Kiara for living on figure 8, why? Because he can mack on her? Screw this,"

    I jump up from my seat, heading for the white door of Rafe's bedroom while taking a long drag of the joint I stole. Just as I'm about to reach the door, I feel hands grip my upper arms and pull me back, my body spinning until I meet the dark eyes of Rafe. "Just, calm down there, Phoebe. Don't get all worked up over some pogues," 

    "Well, I'm not gonna calm down Rafe, no matter how many joints you throw at me," I tell him, wanting to rip my arm out of his hold and storm over to the self-proclaimed 'chateau' where John B is more than likely bunkered up. 

    "Look, let's go to the boneyard party and if he's there, I'll rough him up for you," He bargains, probably just trying to get me to stay. He very clearly doesn't care about what happens to John B or any pogue for that matter. Rafe is the prime example of what makes a Kook. He won't even look at some people from Figure 8 who aren't important enough to him. 

    This did give me an idea though. If John B is at this party, then he can see me in all my Kook glory, with Rafe Cameron by my side. 

    "C'mon, firecracker, you get 'em next time." Barry drawls from a chair behind Rafe. 

    "Okay," I sigh, a grin appearing on my face. They both laugh in victory as I walk back over to my claimed seat. I slump in the rich fabric of the single chair, draping my bare leg over one of the armchairs as Rafe sits on the opposite one. 

    "That's my girl," Barry exclaims, reaching to take the joint out of my hand. 

                    Barry didn't come with us to the Boneyard. He was knocked out cold as soon as he got home and Rafe doesn't like him enough to wake him up and get him. Plus, Barry likes to keep a low profile, y'know, the whole drug dealer thing and all. 

    The sun is setting as we make our way through the sand. Near the sealine, dead trees sit in the sand waiting for someone to sit on them. There are people everywhere. Tourons, Kooks, and Pogues, all mixed together in rare occurrence. 

    "I'm gonna go get a beer," I tell Rafe, walking away from him before he gets the chance to follow me to the keg. 

    I maneuver my way through the people. Most of them are drunk considering how late we got here which only makes it more difficult to sail through the sea of bodies and booze. Maybe Rafe and I shouldn't have taken so long having pre's, then the beach might not be so crowded.

    As I get closer to the keg, I see a hyperactive blond boy in a grey tank, trying his best to defend the alcohol from the seagull-like teenagers trying to fill their cups. He yells at them and calls them animals as he waves them off. 

    "Bar closed for the night then?" I ask loudly, gaining his attention. He turns to look at me and instantly grins, leaning on the keg in an effort to seem relaxed and cool. I stifle a laugh, waiting for him to respond to me. 

    He recognises that the silence between us is due to his lack of response. Soon enough, he coughs and rubs the back of his head.

    "Bar's never closed for a pretty girl like you," He claimed with a wide smile, grabbing a cup and filling it up before quickly handing it over to me. I gratefully take the drink from him, taking a sip of it before lowering the red solo cup and staring at him with a tilt of my head. 

    "Do I know you from somewhere? You seem familiar," I ask, wondering where I recognise the strange boy from. 

    "Is that uh, is that your attempt at a pickup line?" He asked, leaning over with his elbows on the keg to try to get closer to me. I laugh and roll my eyes, knowing I can get no straight answers out of a boy who only wants to hook up. He smiles at my reaction, jolting his hand out fast enough to make the homemade bracelets on his wrists shake. "I'm JJ,"

    I reach out my own hand, gripping his and slowly shaking it as I lift the cup to my lips. "Phoebe," 

    "Nice to acquaint you, Pheebs. Y'know Phoebe is actually my favourite name-"

    He's cut off from his ramblings as a taller, more built frame knocks him over, the shock sending JJ falling to the sand. JJ looks up at the person, the pieces of blond hair covering his eyes do nothing to hide the fact that he's glaring. I turn from keg boy to the frame now standing in front of me. Rafe stands over JJ, looking down and laughing. "Sorry man. Didn't see you there," 

    "Rafe. Not cool," I scold him, moving around to the other side of the keg only for Rafe to take this opportunity to drape his arm protectively over my shoulder. I quickly throw his arm back off my shoulders, stepping back from him with the drink still in my hand.

    "Oh, c'mon. He's a pogue, Phoebe! It was an accident-"

     "Come find me when you're done acting like an idiot," I cut him off, turning and walking away from him. Hopefully, I can find a spot to hide or someone else I know at this party.

    "Hey!" I hear from behind me. I pay no mind to Rafe's loud voice, only picking up my pace to try and lose him. As much as I love the Cameron boy as a friend, he never understands boundaries and when he crosses them. 

    It becomes harder to ignore the sounds of people I pass getting shoved out of the way only seconds after I pass them. I continue to try and ignore the angry protests, looking off to the distance where I make eye contact with someone I didn't expect.

    My big brother--my fallen hero--standing off to the side with some of his friends. His eyes leave the boy with black hair beside him as he turns to me. The cup he's about to sip out of stops in mid-air, lowering slighting. He scrunches his eyebrows, presumably to try and see if it was actually me in the dark despite my white dress illuminating me enough. 

    I don't realise that the sight of him after all this time renders me frozen in place. That is, until a grasp on my forearm swings me around and I meet the murderous gaze of the boy holding me tightly. The shock makes me drop my cup onto the group, the substance inside coating my sandals and feet. "Hey, don't walk away when we're having a conversation, okay? That's rude, don't be rude, Phoebe,"

    "You caused a scene and were acting like an idiot because I was having one conversation with some boy and you expect me not to be annoyed? You act like we're-"

    "Act like we're what, huh?" He cuts me off, dipping low to my face and flicking between each of my eyes. I can feel his fingers pressing harder into my arms the longer I speak, his head swivelling anytime mine moves even slightly. "If I'm not mistaken, Pheebs, you have no problem climbing into my bed when it benefits you and your drunk of a mother,"

    I clench my jaw, pressing my hands to his chest and shoving him back as hard as I can to create some distance. As soon as I do, I lift one hand up to rub the spot his fingertips have surely marked. 

    "And you're the guy who doesn't care why I'm there as long as I'm there," I saw lowly, staring him down with a wave of unrecognisable anger. I can see his face drop in shame and I know he already regrets what he said. 

    "Phoebe, I'm sorry-" He took a step forward, unintentionally making me step back. In the darkness, I don't notice the dead tree behind me until I'm stumbling over it. I feel something hard hit my forehead, sand mingling in my hair and migrating to my eyes.  

    Gaining recognition of what happened, I sit up with a hand to my head, looking towards Rafe in time to see familiar faces running over. One of them I recognise as Topper Thornton, Rafe's other best friend, followed by his girlfriend and Rafe's sister, Sarah. I hear noises behind me, turning around to see my brother storming over, throwing his drink to the side while two friends trail behind him. 

    As John B beelines for Rafe and Topper, I quickly try to push myself to my feet, feeling soft hands help lift me up. Looking up, I see Kiara looking at me with concern, her eyes widening at the sore spot on my forehead. I move my hand away from sensitive skin, noticing a patch of cherry-coloured liquid coating my palm.

    The sound of yelling pulls me back to the scene, watching as John B uses all his strength to push Rafe as hard as he can. He ignores the protests of the raven-haired boy beside him, trying to convince John B that this is a bad idea. To my horror, Rafe stumbles back enough for Topper to step in, sending a nasty right hook to the side of John B's face. 

    John B falls to the floor, his face landing into the ocean as Topper stands above him like some sort of supervillain. "Hey John B, don't make me drown you like your old man alright?" 

    "What the fuck, Topper?" I yell, seething in anger. The sound of his name is enough for him to turn to me, giving me an opportunity to send a forceful punch to Topper's cheekbone that almost has him falling to the ground.

    As much as I lost my connection with my father as the years went by, he's still my Father. No one should ever make jokes about someone's death. 

    John B takes the chance to grab Topper by the waist, sending them both toppling to the floor and slightly further into the water. They struggle with each other more, both tossing each other around and surely getting mouthfuls of salt water. I look around the crowd, trying to ignore the cheers of people egging on the fight and the dizziness in my head. I finally find who I'm looking for, making eye contact with him instantly. 

    "Help him, Rafe," I almost beg, trying to ignore the splashes and grunts beside me. Rafe simply looks me up and down, turning to the two boys fighting before shaking his head and turning around, disappearing into the crowd.

    This makes me angry. The thought of him leaving after the hurtful things he said to me started this fight in the first place. I straighten up, ready to run after him and yell or whatever it takes to get through to him when the blurry face of someone blocks my view. 

    I squint my eyes, trying to focus on the image in front of me until I recognise him as the boy from the keg. "Wow, you stay right here," He tells me, turning back to the fight just as John B hit Topper hard "That's what I'm talking about!"

    I slowly turn to the fight, feeling the slow drip of blood down my forehead. The hit to the head mixed with the substances in my system is not helping me in this situation. I feel like I'm about to crash. 

    "Come on, Topper. Let's Go!" I hear John B yell, his voice hoarse from the salt water and the rage he's no doubt feeling. They charge at each other and struggle for a bit more before Topper grabs a hold of John B and flips him, dropping him into the sea and grabbing him in order to keep him in the water. 

    "Topper stop!" I hear Sarah yell from a distance.

    The longer Topper holds John B underwater, the more panic I feel until I'm stumbling towards them, yelling out my brother's name. Somewhere between that, I felt keg boys' hands leave me. I don't realise why until I see him rush past me, something in his hand as he presses it to the back of Topper's skull. 

    "Yeah, you know what that is." I hear JJ taunt him with a smile on his face. Instantly, people start running away from the scene, no longer excited about the fight before them and now scared by what it's become. I hear Sarah screaming, my instinct to turn and grab her to stop her from blindly running in. 

    "JJ, stop!" She yells, looking over my shoulder. I turn my head, watching as JJ presses the gun slightly harder against Topper's head.

    "Did you say something, princess?" He mocks, almost as if he is enjoying the altercation or is so consumed by his rage that he doesn't realise the severity of what he is doing.

    Topper lets go of John B and raises his hands, chanting "We're good,"

    John B slowly lifts himself up out of the water, his arms shaking and his lungs wheezing as he struggles for air. I step away from Sarah, running into the water to help lift him up and pull him away from the water 

    "Okay, everybody listen up," I hear JJ yell, lifting my head to see he has stepped away from Topper and is now facing the crowd of morbid people who stuck around to see the rest of the fight. "Stay the hell off of our side of the island!"

    With that, he lets off two loud as-hell gunshots into the air, the noise making my pounding head throb enough for me to get disorientated. I vaguely see the two people John B were with before, both of them running over to JJ and arguing with him. But, the three of them slowly turned into six and my headache becomes worse the longer I try to identify how many doubles I'm seeing. 

    "Pheebs," I hear John B whisper through a cough in my arms. I turn to him fast enough to see his eyes roll back and his body fall backwards. Despite my efforts to keep him away from the water, his heaving body pulls me back with him until we both fall into the ocean.