𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ¹

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 18.

━ 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝘂𝘀𝗲𝘀.

    𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, the red bicycle was leaning against the tattered screening of the front porch.

    After watching John B run away from me, in his fit of anger, I returned back to Sarah who was equally as discomposed as I was. I had curiously asked her what he meant by losing his job. She explained to me with minimal detail, how he'd snuck onto her father's boat a few days before— borrowing air tanks without permission for something she didn't know of. I didn't push her any further.

    Although John B had performed quite the spectacle, and seemed morally fixed on the idea that Sarah had snitched on him, I didn't want to pick sides. Something had clearly happened with the cops. Something was clearly off about his assumption towards Sarah.

    I had asked Sarah to drive me home while we were walking off the docks. She did, and when we pulled up to the small white home, Carla, the truck, wasn't on the lawn. Sarah didn't seem to mind that my grandparent's house could fit ten times into her own, which filled me with a warmth, nor did she ask or say anything about it. We had said goodbye, and she offered again to take me on a tour of TannyHill, some time in the week.

    Now, I sat on the mattress in my bedroom, biting the inside of my cheek and wondering if I should go and see him. The sun was going down as I stared out the window, the window that he once showed up at, and debated in silence. It wasn't my issue. And really, I didn't know if I would be welcomed at his house out of the blue. But I wanted to ask what happened at the Sheriff station— and that, was sort of my issue.

    Just as I was about to stand up from the bed and head outside for the bike, with intentions of driving over to his home, Caroline and Daryl paraded into the house. I left my room, to face them piling boxes of stuff onto the round table, their shoes sliding off their feet. Caroline  looked up to me, her usual happy grin plastering over her face, as she carefully dropped a plastic bag and walked over to where I was standing.

    I had changed out of my dirty clothes, and switched out the stained shorts for a fresh pair of jean ones, a dark denim colour. My white tube-top had spots of brown on the back from leaning against the wall of the rooster coop, so I changed into a black one instead, and left the grubby clothes in the hamper Daryl had given me. I left my hair loose, slightly waved. I decided for final that I was going to go back out again, and see what was up with John B.

    "Hey, bug," Caroline walked up to me and softly wrapped her small arms around my shoulders, "how was your day?" She asked, as I hugged her back, delicate.

    "It was alright," I said, as she pulled away. "I dropped your gift off at Lana Grubbs' house." I said to her, leaving out the grave part with the square groupers, almost dying, and running into John B.

"Thanks, hun," Caroline smiled a motherly smile, her face relaxing. "How was she?" She asked with a sadder look.

"Well, emotional," I tried to say it as kindly as I could. "But she was very nice," my lies were believable.

"Okay," Caroline nodded firmly, "I'm going to go down there tomorrow after work, check up on her."

I felt my stomach tighten, but kept my composure and nodded in agreement. She then shuffled through the plastic bag in front of me.

    "What'd you do all day," Daryl asked me casually, while maneuvering one of the heavy boxes and placing it on the coffee table, "You go on a bike ride?"

    "Yeah, actually— and," I half-lied, and stopped for a second, looking to both of them, "While I was riding, I ran into Sarah Cameron— you know, that girl who drove me home from the party?" I looked to Caroline.