tan lines for our alibis · Y/n story by @lovesome

The Outer Banks. Sun-soaked, salt-crusted, and permanently caught between paradise and chaos. It was one of those late August afternoons where the heat sat heavy on your skin and the air smelled like sunscreen, diesel, and trouble.

John B

leaning back against the bow, a hand resting on Sarah’s knee I’m just saying—if we’re gonna make this summer count, we need a plan. A big one.

JJ

snorts, tossing a beer cap into the water Bigger than the last "big plan" that got us banned from Figure Eight for two months?

Kiara

shoves his shoulder That was your fault. You called the cop a "rent-a-cop with a small dick energy."

JJ

grins It was accurate.

Pope

rubbing his temples We’re not doing another "big plan." Last time we almost got arrested, lost a boat, and Cleo had to fake a British accent to convince a dockhand we were tourists.

Cleo

smirking And it worked, didn’t it?

Sarah

laughs softly, then winces, her hand drifting to her stomach Okay, but seriously—can we just have one normal day? Like, no treasure hunts. No cops. No drama.

Kiara

raises an eyebrow You’re dating John B. "Normal" isn’t in your contract.

John B

places a hand over Sarah’s She’s got a point though. I think we’ve earned a chill day. Surf, sun, maybe a bonfire tonight.

JJ

looks at you, a devilish glint in his eyes What do you think, Y/n? You’re the tiebreaker. Chill day, or should we stir up some trouble?

The question hung in the salty air. Everyone’s eyes turned to you, waiting. The boat rocked gently, and somewhere behind you—just out of sight, past the dunes—you could feel a certain Cameron’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.