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Corinne Peterkin always knew exactly who she was. She couldn't forget, even if she wanted to. Being the daughter of the county sheriff meant that her every move was on someone's radar—be it Kook or Pogue. It was like she lived in a glass house, where everyone knew her story before she had a chance to tell it.

Her mother, Sheriff Susan Peterkin, knew practically everyone in town. It was her job, after all, to know every secret, every scandal, every sideways glance. Corinne was no exception. But that never stopped her from doing what she wanted—rules be damned. She was a Pogue at heart, and that was something no one could take from her.

Corinne tiptoed down the creaky white-painted wooden stairs of her home, careful not to wake her mother, who was already a light sleeper. The early morning light barely filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows that stretched across the faded oak floors. In her hand, she clutched a bag stuffed with snacks, the kind the Pogues always devoured after a storm—chips, beer, and whatever else she could sneak from the pantry. It was a "post-hurricane hang," as JJ liked to call it—a tradition almost as old as their friendship.

Just as Corinne reached the bottom step, her mother's voice cut through the silence, stopping her dead in her tracks.

"Corinne Hilary," Susan's voice was soft but firm, carrying the kind of authority that came with a badge.

Corinne's heart sank, and she winced, muttering a curse under her breath. She turned slowly, her gaze drifting upward to meet her mother's piercing eyes. Susan stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, dressed in her familiar robe with a stern, knowing look that Corinne had come to dread.

"Where do you think you're going this early in the morning?" Susan asked though the tone suggested she already knew the answer.

Corinne debated two things in her mind: lie to her mother in hopes of being let off or tell her the truth and risk being shut down by the literal police. She was pretty sure what answer she knew was right, but she chose option A anyway.

"Going to volunteer down at the police station. You know, got to get in those post-hurricane volunteer hours." Corinne blurted, forcing a strained smile.

She could feel her mother's skeptical stare burning into her brown skin, the silence that followed suffocating, and Corinne silently begged whatever higher power was listening to cut her a break.

"I'm offended Corinne. I thought I raised you to know better than to think I'd believe that lie of yours." Susan responds, her voice dripping with mock disappointment.

Thanks a lot, whatever is up there.

Corinne's head slumps as she sighs in defeat. "Please, Ma. They're already on their way," She didn't bother masking the frustration in her tone. Her mother knew her too well.

"You were just with them two days ago Corinne."

"Exactly! Usually, it's every day, so I think I have days to make up for." Corinne retorted, pushing her glasses back up her nose as they began to slide. She watches as her mother sighs, moving down the stairs to meet her daughter halfway.

"What illegal activity is on the agenda today?" Susan asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Vandalism, trespassing, or maybe a little pickpocketing with JJ again?" The sheriff's list was half-true, half-mocking, but it still hit close to home.

Corinne rolled her eyes leaning against the banister, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. They had it at least once a week.

"First of all, that was not vandalism. It was artistic expression. Second, we're just going to hang out in the marsh. Nothing crazy, I promise." Her voice softened, but her resolve was clear. She was going, one way or another.

Seeing her mother's expression remained stoic, unmoved by her statement, Corinne played her final card. "Pope will be there. You like Pope, right? We'd never do anything illegal with him around."

Lies.

Just as Susan was about to protest once more, a revving noise sounded from the lake behind the Peterkin's house. Corinne turned to see the HMS Pogue appearing with all of her friends sitting inside, visible from the screen door.

"Ma, they're already here. Don't make them come all this way for nothing." Corinne gives one last plea.

Finally, Susan sighed, shaking her head in reluctant resignation. "Fine. But you're volunteering three extra hours at the station next week, young lady."

Corinne's face lit up, her frustration dissolving into a triumphant grin as she rushed up the stairs to meet her mother. "Thanks, Mom, I'm going to volunteer my butt off, I might get my friends to come," Corinne suggests, quickly pecking her mother's cheek.

Susan chuckled, giving Corinne a gentle push toward the door. "Yeah, right. Now go, before I change my mind, I love you. And be safe."

"I always am. Love you!" Corinne shouts as she swings the backdoor open, making her final exit.

Jogging down the rickety wooden walkway, Corinne's sneakers barely made a sound against the damp boards still slick from last night's storm. The early morning sun glinted off the lake, casting a warm glow that made the ripples shimmer like liquid gold. The Pogues' boat bobbed at the dock, its occupants already buzzing with post-hurricane excitement. John B was the first to spot her, his smile wide and familiar, the kind that always felt like coming home.

"Happy post-hurricane day, Cor!" John B called, leaning casually against the wheel of the boat. He wore his usual carefree grin, feeling the warmth of his welcome as she approached, a familiar comfort that had been there since they were kids.

"Morning, JB," Corinne replied, her own smile mirroring his.

"Top o' the mornin' to ya," Pope chimed in, lifting his cap in a playful salute.

"Morning, love," Kiara added. She leaned back, soaking up the sun as she gave Corinne a lazy salute, her stacked bracelets jingling softly.

JJ was the last to acknowledge her, his eyes lingering on her as she neared. He extended his hand, a silent invitation she'd accepted countless times.

"Hey, pretty girl," he greeted, his tone low and flirtatious, laced with the kind of affection he always tried to mask with jokes. Corinne smirked, taking his hand and stepping gracefully onto the boat.

JJ's gaze flicked to the tote bag slung over her shoulder, bulging with the promise of snacks. He reached for it with a mischievous glint in his eye, only for Corinne to swat his hand away.

"Uh—uh, greedy," she teased, slipping into her spot beside him with a cheeky grin.

"Hey, don't hog the goods," JJ pouted dramatically, his voice carrying a playful whine.

"If you could just be patient for once," Corinne says, playfully pushing his face away.

She began distributing the snacks, tossing each of them their favorites—barbecue chips for Pope, vegan and gluten-free sun chips for Kie, and sour cream and onion for John B. Finally, she pulled out two bags of salt and vinegar chips—one for herself and one for JJ. Before handing his over, she popped it open and stole a chip, crunching it loudly in his direction.

JJ gaped at her, pointing accusingly. "You have your own bag, greedy," He shot back, his mock annoyance barely hiding his amusement.

"Yeah, well, I bought them, so I can take as many as I want," Corinne quipped, stealing another chip with a devilish smirk, earning an exaggerated eye roll from JJ.

John B glanced over his shoulder from the wheel, shaking his head at the bickering pair. "She's been on the boat for two minutes, JJ. Can you try not to argue with her for at least five?"

"Not when it's this easy," JJ countered, his smile sly as he leaned back, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

As the boat glided through the marsh, the heat of the summer sun pressed down, coaxing Corinne and Kiara into ditching their T-shirts for bikini tops. The air was thick and sticky, with the faint scent of saltwater clinging to their skin.

"Hey, Pope. Can you go a little faster?" JJ calls to Pope as he is now driving the boat.

"Here we go. I'm moving. Doesn't work, though, remember? We've tried this like 6,000 times," John B reminded him, settling opposite JJ, ready for his infamous "party trick".

Corinne squinted at JJ, exasperation etched on her face.

"JJ, don't beat a dead horse. I'm begging you," she said, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun as JJ confidently moved into position.

"I got this. It's gonna work!" JJ insisted, standing at the bow with a beer in hand, poised like a pirate about to claim his prize. He raised the bottle to his lips, his stance widening as Pope accelerated slightly.

The boat roared across the water, the engine growling louder with each surge forward. The wind whipped through their hair, turning JJ's beer-chugging stunt into an even bigger mess. Foam and yellow liquid sprayed everywhere, missing his mouth entirely and splattering onto everyone in the boat.

"You're getting beer in my hair!"

"Oh, my God."

"JJ, don't make me push your ass off this boat." Corinne's voice was sharp, her annoyance cutting through the chaos. She tried to shield herself but felt the cold droplets splatter across her shoulders.

Unbothered, JJ laughed, holding his beer up like a triumphant flag, but his moment was short-lived.

Suddenly, the boat lurched violently, slamming to an abrupt stop. The world tilted as the Pogues were thrown forward, bodies sprawling across the deck. JJ was launched headfirst over the side, disappearing into the water with a loud splash.

The group of teenagers regained their composure from the hit, slowly crawling from the floor of the boat.

"Jesus, Pope!" Kie groans.

"Is everyone okay?" Corinne asks, receiving winded murmurs in response, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"You okay, JJ?" John B calls out to the boy in the river.

"JJ, you alright?" Corinne's eyes scanned the water, the ripples slowly settling. He emerges from the water, sputtering and gasping for air.

"I think my heels touched the back of my head," JJ choked out. Corinne couldn't help but roll her eyes at his unfazed response.

"Pope, what the hell happened?" The dark-haired girl questions the boy beside her.

"Sandbar. The channel changed." He informs the group, standing up to his feet.

"No shit."

"Ugh, this is probably gonna mess this whole place up." John B. complains.

Pope moved toward the front of the boat, peering down into the murky depths. His expression shifted from frustration to surprise, eyes widening as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Corinne noticed and moved closer, her curiosity piqued. "What's going on, Pope?"

"Guys... I think there's a boat down there." He pointed to the water, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Shut up."

"What?"

"No way." JJ and Corinne say in unison.

"No, no, guys. I'm serious. There's a boat down there." Pope points frantically at the water.

Kiara and John B rushed to his side, leaning over the edge. It only took a second for the sight below to register—a sunken boat, ghostly pale and lifeless on the lake bed.

"Holy shit, he's right. Let's go." Kie rushes to kick off her denim shorts to reveal her bikini bottoms.

"Oh my God, shit." Corinne followed suit, quickly shedding her own clothing and tossing her glasses aside.

"You think there's a dead body down there?" Pope asked, eyes darting between his friends.

"Pope, move!" Corinne snapped, adrenaline pumping as she dove into the water alongside Kiara and John B.

"Guys, wait up!" Pope shouts.

The lake enveloped them in cool silence, bubbles streaming past as they swam toward the sunken vessel. The underwater world was murky, with sunlight cutting through in hazy beams, giving everything an ethereal, almost surreal quality.

Corinne's lungs burned as she reached the boat, her fingertips grazing the sleek hull. She exchanged a glance with John B, both of their eyes wide with a mix of fear and excitement. They confirmed what they already knew—this wasn't just any wreck; it was something worth finding.

The group broke the surface, gasping as the cool air filled their lungs.

"You guys saw that?" JJ spluttered, slicking back his wet hair.

"What the hell...." Corinne muttered, still stunned. Her mind raced as they climbed back aboard the HMS Pogue, droplets of water streaking their skin.

"That's a Grady-White. A new one of those is like 500 G's, easy." JJ spouts out as the group swims back to the boat.

"Yeah. That's the boat I saw when I surfed the surge." John B added, settling back onto the deck. "Maybe it hit the jetty or something." He continues.

"Dude, what the hell?" She smacks John B, disbelief written all over her face.

"You surfed the surge?" Kie questions.

John B shrugged, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips.

"That's my boy. Pogue style." JJ laughs, giving John B. a fist bump. Corinne could only shake her head in exasperation. She and Kiara had warned them how dangerous that was, but the boys never listened.

"Who the hell's boat is that?" Corinne asks, still grappling with the reality of what they'd found.

"We're about to find out." John B shrugs, grabbing an anchor from the boat's compartment, and hefting its weight.

"Dude, it's too deep."

"Oh, for the weak and feeble, JJ." John B jokes a cocky grin on his lips.

"Well, I'm not resuscitating you. I'm just making that clear up front." He responds, holding his hands in the air.

"That's fine."

"John B." There's a beat of silence as Kiara looks up at John B. As if she couldn't believe what he was about to do.

"What?" He lets out a careless laugh.

"Diver down, fool." Pope salutes him.

Corinne sighed, resigning to the inevitable chaos. "Diver down."

"Yeah, he is," JJ smirks before shoving John B off the boat, sending him plunging into the lake with the anchor.

The seconds felt like minutes as the group leaned over, eyes glued to the water, waiting for any sign of John B.

He finally broke the surface, the tense air disappearing temporarily.

"Oh, my God. That took forever!"

"Any dead bodies?"

"Looting potential?"

"Anything interesting in the slightest?"

John B. denies all of the theories, breathless but grinning, a brass motel key dangling from his fingers. "I found this motel key."

What?

"A key," Pope deadpans.

"Yes, a key, Pope," John B. repeated, hauling himself back onto the deck. JJ pulled the anchor back in, dripping wet and bemused.

Why was there a motel key down there and who the hell did it belong to?

"Great! We salvaged a motel key." JJ states sarcastically.

"Guys, we should report the wreck to the Coast Guard. Maybe we'll get a finder's fee." Kie suggests as Pope begins to drive the boat once more.

"You know that's not a bad idea. My mom says they pay big for stuff like this," Corinne nodded, her mind briefly flickering to her mom's stories about police rewards.

John B shrugged, his usual careless charm returning. "To the station, we go."

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AUTHORS NOTES |
AHHHH i'm so hyped to start publishing this book and share my story with you guys. it feels so good to be writing again and i hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter <33