𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒. ᵒᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵇᵃⁿᵏˢ ¹

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 27.

━ 𝘃𝗹𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗮𝗹.

"𝐇𝐄𝐘! 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐑, are you— are you sold out?"

A strong sense of recognition enveloped my body when the three of us ran onto the main ports, towards the ticket booth, for the Ferry. The familiar suffocating scent of fish and salt, stale food, and body door wafted through my nose, making my head spin— just like the first time I'd faced myself with all the angry fisherman on my first arrival. I looked at the exact spot that I had gotten off the Ferry. Where I had gotten my first look at the island overhead.

It sent a feeling of bewilderment into my stomach, the fact that I once stood there, looking ahead to the place I'd spend my next year. The girl who had gotten off of that Ferry ride had no idea that she'd be galavanting around with the island's Princess and a boy who had no common sense— whom both, she now called her friends— for a secret mission. When I had stepped off that boat, I wasn't looking forward to the next year, I was only excited for the beach. I was Charlotte Collins. Now— I suppose I was just Charlie.

While we ran towards the booth, my hair flowing behind me, a thought occurred as I stared at the back of John B's head. My stomach turned. If I hadn't met him, I would have most likely been at home, sitting with my grandparents, with no idea of rivalries and Kooks and Pogues. I wouldn't have gone to the motel, been chased by square groupers, ran from the cops, stargazed in the middle of the night— all in my first week. I wouldn't be running through the fog, my shoes making thuds on the grounds of the port, if I simply liked the taste of Cherry Cola.

"You're not the only one trying to leave the island," the ticket man chuckled mockingly, while strapping his backpack over his shoulders. The wide man turned away without another word, and walked in another direction.

John B cursed and leant his hands on the wooden booth, gently face planting his head with defeat.

"Well shit," I huffed sarcastically, out of breath from running to the port so quickly. I was stopped beside him, my hands on my hips, and Sarah stood next to me.

"Um," Sarah looked around.

"What do we do now," I said, with a light tone, looking at John B.

His eyes were squinted as he trailed them around the area, not speaking. After a long second, my chest heaving in and out at an unsteady pace, he lifted his hand up and pointed a finger out in the distance quickly, a look of realization painted over his face.

"I have an idea—" he said with fast words, while reaching down for my wrist in a rough motion, "follow me."

As some sort of reflex, I reached over for Sarah's arm, interlocking ours together right before John B began to pull me with him. I dragged her along, and he guided the two of us us past workers carrying crates of fish, the salty aroma of it burning my nose.

"Hey, have you guys ever been on a tugboat?" He glanced over to Sarah and me walking fast beside him. There was a sly smirk on his lips. He wasn't holding my wrist anymore, and so I slowly let go of Sarah's arm.

    "A what?" My eyebrows narrowed.

    "You're not serious," Sarah looked over my head at him, and spoke with a tone of slight disbelief.

    "Hey, what's a tugboat?" I persevered.

    "Look— we just gotta talk our way onto this barge," John B answered her, ignoring me.

    "Tugboat," I narrowed my eyebrows.

    We turned a corner, newly faced with many more people, the long dock filled with tall crates of items and wooden planks everywhere. The strong smell was worse closer to the water. Tourists walked around mindlessly, men wearing military uniforms, and others wearing neon yellow vests and baseball caps.