? · Y/n story by @Sabrineweenie

The bonfire crackled, sending sparks spiraling into the dark Carolina sky. The salty breeze from the marsh carried the smell of burning driftwood and cheap beer. Figure eights of teenagers weaved between Coolers and tangled beach chairs, laughter cutting through the rhythmic crash of the tide.

Sarah Cameron

shouting over the noise Y/n! Get over here! John B's about to tell the story about the time he almost drowned in the hot tub again.

John B. Routledge

grinning It was a jacuzzi, and I was definitely not almost drowning. I was... meditating.

Cleo

snorts from across the fire Meditation look a lot like flailin' from where I was standin'.

The night was warm, familiar. Safe. Everyone was where they were supposed to be. Then the music dipped, just for a second, and the quiet rang louder than the bass.

Sarah Cameron

whisper, barely audible No.

John B. Routledge

standing slowly, eyes locked That's not... that's not possible.

The figure stopped at the edge of the firelight. He looked different—thinner maybe, older, with a new scar cutting through his left eyebrow. But the grin. That cocky, crooked, I've-seen-everything-and-still-don't-care grin.

JJ Maybank

voice rough, like he'd swallowed saltwater Miss me?