Tongue Tied (jj maybank) 8/?
“That bread had mold on it three days ago.”
“I’ll just pull off the bad parts. Plus, mold is good for you. It’s just a…natural..organism.”
After their escape from the graveyard, the gang had headed straight for the Chateau, eager to find out what was inside of the conspicuous package. So there they were. JJ making a moldy sandwich, Pope criticizing it, and Kiara, Rosie, and John B all gathered around the FedEx package. After the sandwich debacle, Pope and JJ joined the group surroudning John B as he ripped open the envelope.
He pulled out a piece of folded paper which, as it was opened, revealed itself to be a map. But not just any map; a map with the location of the Royal Merchant marked.
John B proceeded to pull a black, rectangular device from the package.
“What’s that?” the mold-eater asked.
“Tape recorder. Dumbass,” Rosie mumbled, eyes trained on the map on the table.
Pope, JJ, Kiara, and Rosie watched as John B hit the play button.
“Who’s Bird?” JJ interrupted
John B replied, not looking up from the device, “it’s what my dad called me.”
I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. And you doubted your old man. I suspect at this moment you’re filled with guilt and self-loathing over our last fight but don’t kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn’t expect to find the merchant either…
Rosie could only count the stitches on her hand as the voice of John B’s father filled the room. She wasn’t able to bring her gaze up to him, or anyone else because she knew how painful it was for him. She knew like no one else did. The silence after the end of the recording was deafening. No one knew what to say or do.
Suddenly, John B bolted out of his chair and ran towards the door, falling against the frame. JJ called after him excitedly, but was quickly shushed by Kiara. As Kie went tried to comfort John B, who was now crying, Rosie found it even harder to look up from the stitches. His pain pained her almost more than her own. Because at least she had closure. At least she got to say goodbye, and at least she wasn’t left wondering.
Slowly, Rosie forced her eyes away from the stitches. She pad over to her friend’s sobbing frame. Kie met her eye. The two girls had a silent exchange before Kie gave John B one last squeeze and left him with Rosie.
Rosie was quick to wrap her arms around the boy. He buried his head in the crook of her neck soaking her shirt with tears and racking her body with sobs, but she didn’t mind.
“I know,” she barely whispered.
She didn’t need to say anything else. John B understood. Rosie and John B had never actually opened up to each other about the loss of their parents; about how they were both essentially orphans. With her refusal to confront her loss and John B’s denial of his, they’d never come around to the topic. But now, as they stood there in each other’s embrace, they realized how long overdue the conversation was. They shared a connection like none of the others.
Kiara, JJ, and Pope watched in awe at their friends’ moment. Other than JJ, they’d never seen Rosie talk about, or even slightly hint at the loss of her mom. Nor had they seen John B break down over his dad.
Kiara led JJ and Pope outside to give Rosie and John B some space. Rosie and John B stood like this for a while longer, but eventually his cries subsided. Once they had died down into occasional sniffles, he pulled away from her. His eyes were red and puffy, but nothing Rosie hadn’t seen before.
“Thank you,” he sighed but wore a real, genuine smile.
“You don’t need to thank me. Seriously,” she smiled back.
Rosie led the pair outside to join the rest of their friends. While they were inside, JJ, Kiara, and Pope had situated themselves at the end of the dock. Rosie leaned against the rail inbetween JJ and Pope, while John B took the spot beside Kiara. Kie strummed her ukulele as they joined their friends. The sound was the perfect background noise to the chirping birds and soft waves. Rosie and John B exchanged one last meaningful smile before the silence was broken.
“How much was it again?” JJ asked as he skipped a rock along the water.
“All right let’s talk the split,” JJ hopped off from his spot on the railing. “Now, before we say ‘evenly’, may I remind you that I am the only one that can properly defend us,” he pulled out the gun from his pocket that he never seemed to go anywhere without anymore.
JJ and Pope quickly broke out into an argument; Pope denying his request and JJ pushing it even more, until his voice fell on death ears.
“What are you gonna do with your 100 mil, Pope?” Kie changed the subject.
“Pay for college in advance,” he didn’t hesitate to answer, “and also textbooks. Those are expensive.”
“What about you, Kie?” JJ turned the question on her.
“Yeah, what does a socialist do when she’s rich?” Pope laughed.
She shrugged, “just wanna make a double album. About OBX, the Pogues. Record it at Marley Studio, Peter Tosh producing–”
“Dead. I know that, Pope. Spirit of Peter Tosh will never die.”
“I know what I’m gonna do,” JJ interjected, “I’m gonna get a big ass house on Figure Eight and go full Kook. Gonna get a marble statue of myself, and them I’m gonna get a koi pond.”
The Pogues all laughed. No matter how hard Rosie tried, she couldn’t imagine JJ in any Kook setting. Ever.
Rosie took a moment before answering, “I honestly don’t know. Probably save it, not spend it all at once, you know? I want a big family, lots of kids and stuff. Save it for them, probably.”
Kie smiled softly at her friend’s genuine answer.
“What are you gonna do, JB?”
He turned from the water to face his friends. Slowly, a grin made its way onto his face as he spoke for the first time since his breakdown.
The teenagers wore matching grins and clinked their beers together.
About a couple of beers in, the group had moved to the firepit outside of the Chateau. Pope and John B, who had only had half a beer each, started a fire. The warmth of the flames felt like heaven against Rosie’s skin in her dazed state.
“Kie! Play me a song,” she giggled and leaned her head onto the other girl’s shoulder. Kiara laughed at Rosie’s tipsy state, but positioned her ukulele and strummed a series of chords nevertheless.
“Pope! Sing,” Rosie instructed while raising her can of beer to her lips.
“Yeah, Pope, sing!” JJ egged him on. Kiara’s strumming had begun to pick up in beat.
The boy shook his head frantically, “You know I would, but JB here’s rumoured to have the voice of an angel.”
John B didn’t hesitate to break out into some Christmas tune, though Rosie couldn’t tell which, to the beat of Kiara’s ukulele. Rosie clapped along with a dopey grin spread across her face. The combination of John B’s singing and Rosie’s state sent the entire group into a fit of laughter.
“Rosie, you’re drunk,” Kiara stated the obvious.
“What? No I’m not, I’m only two drinks in,” she held up her left hand to form a two. “Just a little bit tipsy.”
“If you’re just a little bit tipsy than I’m just a little bit poor,” JJ laughed while popping open another can of beer.
“Let’s play a game!” the shorter girl exclaimed, ignoring the blond’s comment. “What’s a good game?”
“Never Have I Ever?” Kiara suggested.
“Nah, that one’s no fun. We already know everything we have and haven’t done,” Pope shot her down.
“What about Truth or Dare?” John B suggested.
“But if you forfeit, you shotgun a can,” JJ added.
“Are you trying to get us all shitfaced?” Kie laughed at JJ’s addition to the game.
The blond shrugged with a smirk, “only if you forfeit.”
Rosie picked up a piece of bark and chucked it at Pope’s head across the firepit. Granted, she wasn’t sober so she missed by at least a foot.
Rosie tapped her finger to her chin in contemplation until an idea hit her, “Ooh! Would you rather only drink water for the rest of your life or drink whatever you want, but it always has to have a little bit of pee in it?”
Kiara laughed at her friend’s ridiculous question, which also sent Rosie into a fit of giggles
“Water. Water’s great. No pee,” Pope was quick to respond, rejecting Rosie’s question.
“What? Come on, man. A little bit of pee isn’t gonna kill you!” JJ laughed and nudged his uptight friend.
“Yeah, have some creativity, bro!” John B joined in.
Before Pope could initiate a never-ending arguement over drinking pee, Rosie threw another piece of bark at him. This time it hit him in the chest, but only out of pure luck.
He picked up the piece of bark, and threw it at John B. “JB, truth or dare?”
Pope grinned deviously, “Ok. You’ve gotta give me a foot massage until your next turn.”
“That’s it?” John B asked, waiting for the catch.
“Hey, I’m just playing the game!” Pope laughed.
John B picked up the piece of bark and chucked it across to JJ.
“Dare,” the blond spoke before John B even asked the question.
John B grinned as he massaged Pope’s feet, “Sit on Rosie’s lap until your next turn.”
Rosie giggled and pat her lap to invite him on.
“Dude, I’m gonna crush her!” JJ pointed out the obvious. He was a good foot taller than the short girl.
“No! I’m strong. Look at this muscle,” Rosie flexed her biceps, pushing up the skin with her other hand to make it appear bulging.
“You heard her,” John B laughed.
JJ shrugged, and plopped himself onto the bouncing girl. She grunted and tried to continue laughing, but his weight was too much. John B gave him permission to slide down and sit inbeween her legs instead.
JJ tossed the piece of bark to Kiara, who had moved to sit beside Pope.
“Truth,” she caught it in the air.
“Hmm, oh, I know! Who’s the last person you kissed,” JJ shot her an evil grin as he sipped from his beer.
Rosie’s eyes widened at this and she tried to slap the beer from his hand but hit him in the face instead. “JJ, noo! You can’t ask her that!”
She tried to whisper in his ear, but in her drunken state, it came out as a breathy yell. Kiara and John B’s faces immediately turned red, while Pope stared at his friends, completely lost.
“Toss me a beer,” Kiara glared at the smug blond, taking the forfeit. JJ and Rosie cheered her on as she chugged the can and threw it to the ground, marking her second beer. She then tossed the bark to Rosie, who failed miserably at catching it.
“Truth! No, dare! Truth!”
Kiara rolled her eyes at Rosie, but couldn’t fight back her laugh.
“Well while we’re on the topic of kissing, Rosie, who do you wanna kiss right now?”
Rosie gasped and widened her cloudy eyes. She shook her head frantically.
Rosie knew her answer, but even in a drunken state, she wasn’t dumb enough to give it away. But she wasn’t exactly smart enough to lie either.
“Beer me!” JJ held out a hand. Pope tossed a new can to him, which he stabbed a hole in with the edge of his keys. He handed it up to Rosie, who didn’t hesitate the chug the whole can, letting out a loud burp afterwards.
The game continued on like this for a while with laughs shared, shotguns completed, and the piece of bark being tossed around the fire. These were the moments Rosie treasured most. The ones where they weren’t doing anything particularly exciting–just lounging idly around a fire playing a childhood game. About three rounds in, Pope and Kiara had switched clothes, John B was balancing a can of beer on his nose, and JJ was yet to move from his spot inbetween Rosie’s legs. The shortest girl reached for her can of beer, but was stopped by the blond beneath her.
“You’re cut off,” he laughed at the whining girl.
She was drunk, but not so drunk she was unaware of her actions. Rosie was in that blissful state of drunkedness. Although, JJ was right. If she continued drinking, she’d soon be vomiting and wake up in a trainwreck of regret.
“It’s 2 AM, guys. I need to head back before my dad kills me,” Kiara sighed reluctantly.
“Yeah, me too,” Pope added.
Kiara went to stand, but stumbled slightly. She was fairly drunk, and Pope was tipsy himself.
“Let me give you guys a ride,” John B stood with them. He’d had the least to drink with only one beer.
Rosie frowned and JJ protested, “Oh, come on! It’s only 2!”
“Goodnight, guys! Sleep tight!” Kiara giggled and followed John B and Pope to the van. Rosie and JJ watched as the old car pulled out of the driveway, and drove out of sight.
“And then there were two,” JJ sighed, leaning back against the log so his head was against Rosie’s stomach. The pair watched the flames of the fire flicker for a few minutes in silence. Rosie subconciously thread her fingers through JJ’s messy locks, causing him to lean further into her.
“I wanna lay down,” Rosie sighed and pat JJ’s head. “Let’s move to the hammock”
He groaned, but complied. The pair of teenagers stumbled towards the hammock in the trees, occasionally bumping into each other with a laugh.
JJ held the swing steady and spoke with an exaggerated British accent, “Ladies first!”
“Why thank you, kind sir!” Rosie giggled, playing along.
She hopped into the large hammock, and JJ quickly followed. She giggled as they swung back and forth. With both side views obstructed, the only thing Rosie and JJ could see was the sky above and each other. They lay side by side, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the stars.
“Isn’t this the part where you point out all the constellations?” Rosie nudged the blond with a sly grin.
JJ cleared his throat, “Well right above us we’ve got the big spoon thing. And then to the right I think that’s supposed to be a dude with a belt but I don’t see it,” he lazily pointed out.
Rosie’s relentless giggles were infectious, and soon JJ was in a fit of laughter as well. The hammock swung underneath them. Eventually their laughter died down, and the hammock stilled. Rosie and JJ were reaching the 'lazy drunk’ stage. The one where you just want to lay down and talk about nothing for hours.
“Do you think we’re actually gonna find all that gold?” Rosie turned her head towards JJ, who continued to look at the sky above.
He paused before answering, “Yeah. We have to.”
“It’s all a little far-fetched though, don’t you think? 400 mil in gold sitting underwater for over a century?” she sighed.
JJ shrugged, “Sounds crazy. But I’ve got a feeling that something’s out there.”
Rosie hummed and turned her head so she was facing the sky again. A light breeze blew in, rocking the hammock back and forth.
“Why don’t you ever talk about your mom?” JJ mumbled.
This time he turned to face her, and she continued staring at the stars. Rosie sighed and shifted under his stare.
“Because if I start I won’t be able to stop.”
The pair laid side-by-side in silence as JJ processed her answer. A minute or so later, he sucked in a breath, indicating he was about to start talking again.
“Vulnerability isn’t weakness, Rosie.”
Rosie sighed and turned her head to face JJ. His blue eyes were darker than usual.
“I know,” she breathed so quietly, she was surprised he heard.
Both teenagers turned back to face the starry sky above.
“Why do you think we fight so much?” Rosie changed the subject
JJ laughed at this, shaking the hammock slightly.
“Why do you think we do?” he turned the question on her.
Rosie grinned, “I asked you first!”
The blond shrugged. She could feel him thinking hard as he tried to formulate an anwer. One that extended beyond him breaking her arm, and her breaking his nose.
“I think we’re more similar than we want to admit sometimes.”
Rosie scrunched up her nose at this. Never in her life had she considered herself to be anything like JJ. She’d always viewed them as worlds-apart different.
“I think you’re just as impulsive as me. You just do a better job of hiding it. I get mad when you do dumb, impulsive shit 'cause I know your process–it’s the same as mine. And I wish it wasn’t. I’m already a fuckin’ lost cause and I don’t want you self-destructing into one too.”
Rosie’s mind spun as JJ spoke. She watched his lips move and the crease between his brows shift. She wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. Her throat was dry, and her vocal chords were pulled tight. Rosie tried to read the expression on JJ’s face, but she couldn’t make it out in the dim light.
“Your turn,” he breathed.
Unable to speak, she whispered.
JJ still wouldn’t look at her, but Rosie could tell he was listening.
“Happiness and anger are easy. I’ve been feeling those emotions my whole life. But when I feel anything else, anything deeper, it’s like my body rejects it. Grief, guilt, sadness,” she continued with a shaky voice, “You pull this–this thing out of me and I don’t know what it is, so I just replace it with anger. I hate you because you make me feel.”
JJ finally turned to face Rosie. Her eyes were wide, almost as if she was scared of her own words. One stray tear leaked from the corner of her eye and trailed down her face. Instead of hiding for once, she let JJ cautiously wipe it away with his thumb. They subconciously inched closer to each other, their noses just millimeters apart.
“What do I make you feel?” he whispered.
Rosie didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned into JJ until their noses bumped. The proximity of his breaths made goosebumps erupt all over. She let her eyes flutter shut. He nudged his nose against hers again. It was just them. No beating waves, no chirping crickets, no swaying hammock. Just JJ and Rosie. And then slowly, her lips just barely grazed against his, as if to say, I’m scared. His brushed against hers a little harder; I’m here.
Just as they came together, they were torn apart. An almost.
“JJ, Rosie! You comin’ in?”
The pair jumped apart, rolling off the hammock in surprise. John B laughed at the two teenagers groaning in the dirt.
“Well I’m beat. See you in the morning,” John B called out to his friends before entering the house and heading to his room.
The pair had already sobered up some, but the shock of the fall brought them back completely. They pulled themselves from the ground and followed John B inside the Chateau. There was a newfound tension between Rosie and JJ that made the usually comfortable silence almost unbearable.
“Well, uh, I’ll take the couch,” the blond scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
“I’ve got guest room, I guess,” Rosie sent him a tight-lipped smile and a sharp nod.
She spun on her heels and headed for the room in the back of the shack, ignoring the burning desire to stay with him on the couch. The further she walked from JJ and the closer she got to the guest room, the stronger the desire grew. But instead of giving in, Rosie did what she did best. She pushed it away, suffocated it in hopes it would die–or at least, leave her alone for now.
But as Rosie closed the door of the guest room behind her and changed into one of John B’s t-shirts, she couldn’t avoid the questions.
Were they really about to kiss?
Was it just the alcohol talking?
What would’ve happened if John B hadn’t shown up?
Rosie’s mind was reeling with the events of just minutes before. As she crawled underneath the covers, she tried to distract herself. She thought about her shift at The Wreck the next day, and the Royal Merchant. But no matter what she tried, a pair of baby blues would always cloud her mind. Rosie wasn’t sure how long she stayed up tossing and turning. She longed to be on the couch with JJ, and her body wouldn’t let her sleep because of it. Her heartrate wouldn’t slow, eyes wouldn’t close, breaths wouldn’t even out. But she wasn’t about to give into her desire.
So Rosie lay there, drifting in and out of the conciousness for hours, thinking only of her almost.
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