Deep Water [OuterBanks]

05: mixed messages

They were on the road again not too long after the two thugs left. Scattered potholes caused the Volkswagen to rock vaguely, rattling the surfboards that were always anchored to the top, put there just in case they ever came across a new surf spot. Although it was incredibly unlikely considering Alana and the Pogue's had practically scoured every inch of Kildare, from The Cut to Figure Eight.

The blonde was lounged across one of the backseats, her back firm against the cool leather and blue eyes skyward, studying the accumulation of stickers on the vehicle's ceiling. A few of them were new, but most were old and faded, the colors not nearly as bright as the year before.

"I mean, it's obvious, right?" John B proposed randomly, one hand secured on the steering wheel, the other hanging out of the open window. "A family heirloom? What better place to hide a message. He had to know it was gonna get back to me, right?" He glanced to Kiara who sat beside him in the passenger seat.

"Yeah. It's possible." The brunette shrugged, her voice strained from so much crying, and her eyes still moderately puffy.

"It could also be possible that you're concocting wild theories, to help, you know, deal with your sad feels." Pope commented, his eyebrows threaded intently as he studied the bronze compass dangling from his fingers.

"Bro, you know how I process my sad feels." JJ added, sprawled out on the seat across from the Heyward boy. "Dank nugs and the stickiest of ickies, that's how I do it." He nodded, and Alana found her aegean eyes shifting from the stickers and over to the blonde boy.

"I'm not concocting, okay?" John B asserted defensively, eyeing Pope from the rearview mirror as he unscrewed the back of the compass. "My dad's trying to give me a message."

"If it helps you believe, John B." Kiara offered warmly.

"Look, I don't need a therapy session, okay?" The Routledge boy declared. "I'm not tripping out."

"It's okay to trip, bro." JJ reassured his friend while fidgeting with the silver ring around his thumb.

John B ran a frustrated hand over his freckled face. "Look, my dad is missing, okay? Missing." He repeated. "You guys don't know what it's like to have the person closest to you vanish and then have no idea what happened. Just wake up every morning wondering."

Alana chuckled internally, knowing exactly what it felt like. While Raina Kessler didn't exactly vanish at sea, she left without warning. No goodbye letter, no explanation, not a single I love you. So she understood how her friend could be so heartbroken even though his father rarely ever gave him a shred of attention. Because even after six years of moving on and trying to forget about her mother, underneath her mild feelings of resentment, was a tiny feeling of hope. A wistful longing for the woman she knew.