The Cool Kids - JJ Maybank

Hangovers and Buff Men

The next, wonderful morning, I find myself in someone else’s room, wearing someone else’s clothes. A boy’s clothes. I sit up quickly, ignoring the ringing in my ears. The bathroom door opens and Dean walks out in his towel.

“Oh,” he says, adjusting his towel, “morning, Gwen.”

Instantly, I relax. My shoulders fall forward as the tension leaves. I should’ve recognized the room. Maybe everything was still affecting me; too many memories at once?

Dean interrupts my explanation, “I covered for you. Told your mom you were at Sarah’s.”

I nod a little. “Thanks.”

He smiles and I’m reminded of the past. Before we were given orders to date. When we had been best friends and I had been close enough to be trusted with the news that he’s a gay: another reason the fact that he had been grinding on those women - don't try to take them from me when you're into men only. Before Dean let his title get to him. He tosses me one of my spare shirts and shorts. “But I know your mom. She might come looking for you.”

“Thank you regardless,” I tell him.

. the cool kids .

They’d be by the docks, I think to myself, answering my own question of where the Pogues are. I’m not entirely sure why this case interests me so much but God, it interests me a lot. I don’t care about what could happen to me - I just want answers.

“Watch where you’re going,” a gruff voice tells me.

I frown to myself, noticing that his food is sticking out like he had tripped me on purpose. “Don’t stand like that, then. If either of us is at fault, it’s you.”

He straightens himself, staring down at me even though I’m not even that short. And I realize where I’ve seen him before. It’s the man with the beard that doesn’t work with his features. I look over to the guys next to him: the bald guy and the beer-belly one. The red flags that had to have noticed the fact that I keep in touch with the Pogues.

“You wanna say that again, Gwen Turner,” the bald one says.

I tilt my head, keeping my expression neutral. “If any of us are at fault, it’s one of you.” She has this terrible feeling that she’s not just talking about her tripping on their foot. That horrible, crushing feeling is the same one she had that night. Something about these men isn’t right. “Good bye, boys.”

As I continue walking, I see him. The back of the man they had been following on the boat. I could get him to turn around. I can catch his features if I keep walking. But it seems like he knows when I’m close to seeing his face because he turns back to the men waiting for him when I get too close. And I’m forced to keep going to find the Pogues, not glancing back so they don’t get suspicious.

“What did they get into?” I mutter the question to myself. Could it be like Jake? And Tasha? Could this all actually be connected? The back of the man’s head… it looks familiar. His build… it looks so goddamn familiar.

. the cool kids .

My run-in with the familiar boys haunts me as I go through the marsh, looking for the Pogue’s small boat, avoiding the sandbars as best as I can. I honestly start to believe that they’re not out there until I see it, quickly going toward them. Kiara’s glare is set on me; Pope tries to play everything off with a wave; JJ scratches the back of his neck while Taylor nudges him; but John B is missing completely.

I pull up next to them and ask, “You good if I board?”

Kiara instantly says no but Pope says yes, earning a glare from her. Taylor moves a second later, helping me tie my boat to theirs before JJ offers me his hand. “Or,” Kiara says sourly, “sure, why not?”