book 2 of 4
on the outside, looking in, bianca prescott was back to who everyone knew her as- kook princess, island royalty, who couldn't give less of a fuck about the pogues like they were poo on her jimmy choo's.
but bianca had a hit list. just...
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If Bianca Prescott was known for anything, it was making a statement. And today was no different.
As she stepped out of the Twinkie, surrounded by the Pogues, condescending stares met her flushed skin. Not only because The Kook Princess lowered her standards to the lowest of the low, but also because the Pogues traitorously associated themselves with said girl.
It was slowly dawning on Bianca that her first public appearance with the group, had drawn more attention than initially anticipated. Sure, they might've been at the bottom of the financial food chain but if she was going to be judged for sticking with the island's scum of the earth, then she might as well go all in. Kook life was boring anyway.
The bonfire was already crowded before they arrived, packed like sardines around the flames flickering in the center. Cinders floated into the night sky, clouds of smoke swept away with the light breeze that had picked up. Tall trees encompassed the clearing, the leaves rustling in the wind. Distantly, a boy revved his lime green motorbike, leaving skid marks against the concrete.
John B high-fived and greeted people, being the first to split off the group. After finding a fortune and losing it, becoming a fugitive, and being sent to prison, Bianca didn't blame him for being excited to finally let loose.
JJ followed after him, but not before placing his hand on the small of Bianca's back to whisper, "I'm going to get us some drinks. I'll be right back."
Kiara scowled at the beer empty beer cans and red solo cups strewn across the ground, grumbling to Bianca about the plastic and how it would end up in the ocean and choke some poor, helpless sea creature.
Bianca was a little distracted, however, by the narrowed gazes that met her back. Feeling self-conscious, she tugged her skirt further down her legs and fiddled with the bracelets Kiara lent her.
"Look, I'm just saying that if you talk to your parents- you know," Pope shrugged, his hands shoved into his pockets. "And, like- actually let them talk, and listen, maybe they'd let you back."
"Okay, but I feel like you're not listening to me," Kiara groaned, tossing her head back in exasperation. "You sound like my dad. I mean, it's classic, you know? She kicks me out because I tell the truth."
"Right," Pope sighed softly, realizing he wasn't going to win with reasoning. Instead, he turned to Bianca, who he noticed hadn't tuned into the conversation at all. It was odd, given that she was so unapologetically opinionated, "Hey. Ignore them."
Bianca's eyes flickered up to meet his and attempted a small smile to reassure him that she was okay. But even Pope's calming words couldn't soothe the growing anxiety within her as she glanced over her shoulder for the umpteenth time that night.
