word count: 2.1k
summary: in which your best friend jj drives you crazy in the best way possible
a/n: there's no season two spoilers in here, i wrote it in may. enjoy!!
✰ ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ✰ ⋆ ✰
You loved the pogues. You really did. Their constant pestering and reminders of a certain crush you may or may not have had? Not so much. In your head, and even out loud sometimes, you had to reassure yourself it wasn't true. There was absolutely no way in hell you could have a crush on JJ Maybank. And that is exactly what you would keep telling your friends.
You all were sat out on the Chateau's porch, enjoying a hot afternoon with a few beers and the company of one another. Unbeknownst to you, it wasn't a regular hang out. It was, as Pope stated, an intervention.
"Intervention?!" You exclaimed. "What exactly do I need that for again?"
"Would you like that alphabetically or in order of importance?" John B quipped in a serious tone.
"Ha ha. Very funny, John B." You mocked. "Seriously, what's this 'intervention' you speak of?" Your fingers came up to air quote the words as you grimaced, looking between Kiara, Pope and John B. "I don't need help with anything."
"You're right." Pope settled. "You don't need help. You need to confess your crush on JJ."
A scoff left your lips as soon as the words fell from his, folding your arms across your chest. "Excuse me?"
"We know you like him, Y/n." Kiara informed.
"No, you know what?" John B interjected. "She doesn't like JJ, she looooves him." He dragged out in a pesky tone.
"And I'm the one who needs the intervention? All three of you are insane." You asserted.
Pope sighed. "We're here because we love you, Y/n. Regardless if you love JJ more than us or not." He chortled. "We just want you to admit it, it's not healthy to keep inside."
"You know, it's sad that you all wasted your time jumping to these bizarre conclusions. I don't know what you're talking about."
They all gave you skeptical looks.
"You don't?" John B asked.
"Nope. I do not like JJ. Not one bit." You shook your head as you said your piece. "If anything, I hate him. He's a big jerk who is always teasing me and trying to get under my skin."
Kiara quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
"Denial." John B muttered under his breath, masking it with a cough that earned a menacing glare from you.
"What do you hate about him, Y/n/n?" Pope inquired curiously.
"Well.. for starters, he's never on time for anything. Horrible punctuality." You began kicking a rock around on the wooden planks of the porch as another way to let out your so-called hate. "Or sometimes he doesn't show up at all. Then he makes you worry about him and wonder where he's at. Only to turn up fine in the next day or two."
"Hm." Pope hummed, taking mental notes as he studied your behavior.
"I hate the way he never brushes his hair. It's like he's a damn golden retriever. And the way it tickles when it brushes my forehead is so annoying. Not to mention when I find it on my hair ties after he steals them." Not once did you look up, continuing your assault on the poor rock. "Oh! That's another thing. He's always stealing. Like when I was 8 and he stole my pet turtle Franklin right out of his tank. Because he wanted to make Franklin a cute bowtie to wear and surprise me with it, but still! He could've killed my turtle! I mean, who does that?"
