Ocean and Alcohol ✘JJ Maybank✘

Ocean and Alcohol

Alcohol thrummed through your system, moving your body to the beat of the music. Sarah Cameron, Queen Kook of the Outer Banks, danced beside you. The two of you weren't exactly friends, but when the other kooks got too much to handle, you turned to each other.

You hadn't intended to spend the night dancing beside Sarah Cameron, but the pogues threw a kegger and you were the last person to miss a party. Unfortunately, that meant interacting with the three groups of people you hated the most; the kooks, the pogues, and the tourons. So, pretty much, everybody on this island. Still, there was free booze and music, which was all you needed to shut the rest of the world out.

Things turned sour when the big three, the trifecta of asshats, stepped in to join the party. Topper, Kelce, and the worst of the bunch, Rafe Cameron, Sarah's very own brother. He was cruel to everyone, not just you, but you hated him anyway.

But he wasn't going to ruin your night. Your dad had left for the mainland for a few days, which meant you could finally breathe. It didn't matter if Rafe was staring you down from across the beach, high of his ass, wanting to start a fight with literally anyone. There was no way you were getting in a fight tonight, not when you had the house to yourself. The night was cool, the waves sloshing against the shore, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees. For once in your life, everything felt peaceful.

Peace, however, was against Rafe's coding. He always had to start something.

"Hey, Elma! Did you learn to dance like from your Mommy?" Rafe called across the beach. You dropped your arms, the sway in your hips freezing. Ice ran through your veins. You met Sarah's eyes. She shook her head slowly, continuing to follow the beat of the music. But Rafe had sufficiently ticked you off, his one and only talent. With a huff, you stepped down from the fallen tree you were dancing on and stormed through the sand, marching past Rafe.

"Don't fucking call me that," you seethed as you walked past him. You listened to the howling laughter of Rafe and his friends get drowned out by the crashing waves. When you could no longer hear the music or the laughter or the chitter-chatter of the party, you plopped down in the sand.

You called it the goldilocks zone. It was the part of the beach where you could keep your feet in the water without getting your shorts wet by the waves. It was the best place to be when you needed to get your mind off of something. The water was cold enough to chill your senses and clear your mind, the wind blowing the tears off of your face.

You weren't sure why you always let him get to you. He was just an idiot boy who had too much money and time on his hands with pockets full of insecurities that he projects onto others. It wasn't your fault his mom left him and his family. It wasn't your fault his dad expected him to take an inch of responsibility every now and again. Of course, it wasn't your fault that he was addicted to whatever drugs he had snorted that day. But he somehow managed to make you feel like it.

Every muscle in your body tensed, every nerve on fire. You weren't sure it was from the alcohol or from your anger, but at the moment, it didn't matter.

With a growl of irritation, you pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes. Your knees bounced up and down from the adrenaline that coursed through you. Tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks, and, frustrated by your tears, you picked up a handful of sand and chucked it into the ocean. You stood with a grumble or two about idiot boys, determined to return to the party. Besides, your shoes and purse were still at the tree that you had been dancing on and you weren't going to leave without your shoes.

You didn't get very far before you heard the sound of a fisticuff not too far ahead of her. Sure, you were sick of the fighting, you saw enough of it at home, but when you caught sight of the irritating shade of pink that was Topper's signature polo shirt, you knew that this was not a fight you were about to miss. Your frustration flooded out of your system as you snuck closer, just to see who the players were. If Topper was there, that meant that Kelce and Rafe were the others on his team. The other team was two boys, but she couldn't see their faces in the darkness. They were getting beat pretty badly. One was on the ground, Kelce sitting on top of him and shoving his face into the sand. The other was being held by Topper as Rafe beat the shit out of him.