[ xxxii. girls night ]

➸➸➸

WILLA DEVERAUX EXPECTED THE world to gradually begin spiraling from the moment they found the well beneath the depths of the haunted Crain household, but she did not expect that presumed gradual descent into chaos to ultimately turn into an immediate descent into chaos.

But she certainly should have.

"No fucking way! You brought her here? So what? She's in on this now?"

Kiara's enraged voice reverberated through the thick, charged air which enveloped the six teenagers as they stood, locked in a tense standoff beneath the shelter of the Chateau's wrap-around porch awning. The open space seemed divided, as if split into two opposing sides, and Kiara dared to balance the fraying line between where Willa, JJ, and Pope sat on one of the many torn couches that lined the porch's wooden railing, and where John B. lingered by the front door of his home with a guarded Sarah Cameron.

Willa was chewing ferociously on her bottom lip as she stared across at the Cameron princess. The breath had been practically knocked from her lungs when she first had seen John B. approach the Chateau with her, without warning, but she knew he had done it on purpose. Surprising them would have been his only chance at getting his friends to listen.

Yet it was a battle that John B. was struggling to win, nonetheless. In their own ignorance, Kiara seethed with anger, Pope fidgeted nervously, and JJ bristled with tension. And Willa—well, she was just sad.

Sad without a proper or understandable place to put her pain. Sad without a reason to ultimately feel such pointless grief. She knew that any reaction she felt was entirely her fault. And still, she could not shake it. Why could she no longer look between John B. and Sarah Cameron without wanting to burst into tears, to burst into flames? She hated feeling so pointless and so weak. She hated this overwhelming frustration with no outlet, and if were not for Kiara already yelling bloody murder, then she most certainly would have.

"Look," JJ sighed, breaking the heavy silence, "all I care about is her cut comes out of your share."

Kiara scoffed at JJ's comment and wheeled back around on John B. "You know, I don't remember taking a vote," She glowered. "This is our thing."

Pope lifted a timid hand. "I've got to say," He added. "I'm just a tad uncomfortable with all of this."

"When are you not uncomfortable?" John B. snapped.

"I don't know," Pope snarked back. "I rode here on the back of JJ's bike pretty comfortably."

JJ chuckled under his breath. "It's true," He confirmed. "Most relaxed I've ever seen him."

John B. rolled his eyes and shook his head, seemingly unable to believe the way two of his best friends were currently treating him. "That's cute, guys," He muttered.

"We were all extremely comfortable until you brought her," Kiara deadpanned.

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" Sarah Cameron exclaimed.

"Then leave."

Willa watched his bated breath as her friend tilted her head stiffly to the side and motioned toward the porch steps. It was certainly a challenge, but it was one that would not be taken. Sarah Cameron scoffed loudly and looked back to John B., her eyes narrowed in near disgust. "I told you," She insisted coldly.

"Told him what, exactly?" Kiara demanded. "That you're a liar?"

"No, that you're a shit-talking bitch, Kiara."

Kiara exploded in fury then, and Sarah Cameron was quick to follow with a snap of defiance, both girls' voices quickly escalating into a ferocious whirlwind of female rage as they tore each other apart, trying to drown the other out. Shouts and profanities were heard in the chaos, but Willa could suddenly barely hear them over the hushed and excited whispers between Pope and JJ on either side of her, the boys rapidly taking bets on which girl would win the inevitable brawl. It was only once a ten-dollar bill was waved under Willa's nose, with JJ attempting to pass it over her and to Pope, that the Deveraux daughter broke her silence. She snatched the money away from them both and stood up abruptly.

"Okay, that's enough!" Willa yelled. She needed to intervene before irreparable damage was done. However, she was not the only one attempting to bridge the divide, for simultaneously, John B. shouted, "Everybody shut up!"

Even Willa froze then, her own voice suddenly pale in comparison to John B.'s thunderous command. He seemed almost surprised by his own outburst, too. The Deveraux daughter and Routledge son had both paused as they looked at each other across the now-silent, war zone-like space of the open porch. Willa could only see him now, and yet she could barely hold his burning gaze, barely breathe as his hickory stare poured into her sage. She hated how much she could already read in his expression, hated how much she already knew what he was going to say next. She hated how much she already knew about John B., and yet all the same he had never felt more like a stranger now.

A stranger . . . All because of the Cameron girl who stood between them. Willa could feel Sarah Cameron's eyes on her face, but she did not dare lower her gaze. She was trying to stop a fight. Not join one.

John B. was the first to pull his eyes away from Willa and turn back toward Kiara. "Kie," He addressed. His voice had dropped to a much softer, fragile tone. "You are my best friend, right?"

Kiara shrugged as if she were unsure.

John B. huffed in frustration, but continued speaking, nonetheless. "And Sarah." He had turned back to the girl who sat beside him, safe in the shadow of his touch. "You're . . . You're my . . ."

As the words escaped him, he chuckled breathlessly. Sarah Cameron, her scowl fading, now offered a soft smile to the boy, and nodded her head encouragingly. "Say it," She murmured.

"You're my girlfriend."

Something inside of Willa broke then. Something heavy, and painful, and merciless. The brewing pain that had simmered since the night of that drunken Midsummer's had come to a boiling head, but before it could reach the surface of her soul, before it could obliterate what was left of her circle, of her trust, Willa swallowed it back down inside once more. She swallowed the newfound shards of glass that had suddenly and viciously ruptured her system. Swallowed them and left them to haunt, left them to turn them into barbs around her own shriveling heart.

For something inside of Willa Deveraux had broken then, yes, but something stronger had just been remade, too.

Willa's throat felt tight, but she would let no agony escape. This was not the time, and this was not the place. Again, she knew that any pain she felt was entirely her own fault. And she refused to feel upset right now. There would be time to break later—and that time would be when she had finally secured her own fortune and escaped from that godforsaken island.

"Oh." Once more, Willa was thankful for Kiara's interruption of her thoughts. "She's your girlfriend now?" The Carrera girl mocked. "What was all that talk about you were just using her for information? Get a map, cut her loose?"

Sarah Cameron's expression immediately dropped, and Willa felt cruel for feeling relief that such a princess was capable of being hurt, too. For the briefest, most minuscule of moments, Willa dared to believe that their happy-ever-after might implode before they ever reached a sunset together.

"You said you were using me?" Sarah Cameron asked as she turned her head toward John B. Her words were stiff and robotic. Cold and upset.

John B. tried to deny it. "No—"

"Yeah, you did," Pope interrupted.

John B. rose his hands in frustration as he wheeled on the five teenagers still watching him, still waiting to see how he would attempt to crawl out of this hole. "Look, love just walked in, okay?" He insisted. "I didn't expect it. It just—it kind of happened. And I'm not going to deny it."

Love? Willa nearly choked on the word, and she was grateful she did not try to say it aloud. Instead, all she said was, "Didn't you just start seeing her two days ago?"

John B.'s attention flashed toward her again, and he licked his lips timidly. "When you know, you know," He said softly.

Behind her, JJ began to quietly gag in a mocking manner. The sudden and playful sound slowly brought Willa back to her senses, and if she were not already beginning to ease back, she certainly would have when Pope muttered, "That's corny."

Willa turned around and motioned for JJ and Pope to separate on the couch so that she could go back to her original seat. As she settled in between them, JJ swiped the ten-dollar bill out of her clenched fist and stuffed it back into his own pocket. Elsewhere, still straddling the line of two sides, Kiara exhaled a trembling breath. "Look, cut the bullshit, John B.," She advised illy. "If she's in, I'm out."

"Kie, I'm not doing this," John B. protested. "I'm not going to decide—"

"You are going to decide," Kiara growled. "I'm very interested, actually. Me or her?"

"Both."

"Oh, Jesus," Pope muttered on Willa's left. On her right, JJ whistled cockily and added, "Went for the Hail Mary."

Willa rolled her eyes, and Kiara scoffed. Then, without hesitation, the latter spun on her heel, making a decision that no one else seemed willing to make. She walked away. Silence descended upon the porch as Willa and the others watched Kiara storm down the steps and disappear around the side of the Chateau. A few moments passed in eerie stillness, but there was no sound of a getaway car's engine starting, indicating that the Carrera girl still lingered somewhere on the property. Perhaps she had taken a walk down to the jetty to cool off.

Sarah Cameron was the first to finally break the angry silence that had settled around them. "It'll be cool, right?" She said to John B. Her words were ice, her eyes guarded, and it made Willa wonder what John B. had promised her on their way to the Chateau earlier that afternoon. Clearly, that promise had not been kept. "I'm going to leave," Sarah Cameron decided, as she reached down to grab her small bag and then rose to her feet.

"Sarah, don't . . ." John B. pleaded quietly.

"You all can chat," Sarah Cameron huffed bitterly. "Let me know what you decide." Without looking back at John B., she crossed the porch and made it to the steps. However, just as she started her descent, she turned her head slightly and glanced back at Willa from where she sat between the other two pogues boys. Her expression revealed nothing as she uttered to the Deveraux daughter, "I think I'm starting to understand pretty clearly now."

In an instant, memories flooded back to Willa as she recalled their shared conversation from days ago outside of Miss Bonnie's shop. They should have never run into each other that day, but ultimately, they had. Neither of them could have possibly known then that their meeting would be the beginning of something . . . but in the hostile air between them that had shifted maybe they were beginning to recognize that beginning now.

Sarah Cameron cleared her throat. "Maybe we are going to start seeing more of each other," She bid. The golden-haired girl sounded like she was on the verge of crying, but much like Willa, she was too strong to let her tears fall. Perhaps the two princesses were more alike than one once thought.

With those final heavy words, Sarah Cameron turned and began walking in the opposite direction of Kiara's retreat, heading away from the porch. Willa watched her go, silent in her place on the ratty and crowded couch, and wondered, albeit ever so briefly, that perhaps she should have said something back.

➸➸➸

"I'M SURPRISED YOU'RE STILL here."

A startled Willa looked up from her focused game of solitaire at the sound of JJ's intrusive voice. She had been sitting alone in the Chateau's kitchen, perched atop a clean counter with her knees crossed, head down in concentration. In front of her were several rows of cards that JJ nearly knocked over as he jumped up on the counter beside her.

She wrinkled her nose as she resettled her cards. "I pretty much live here now, remember?"

JJ chuckled. "I know. Just wanted to hear you say it again."

Echoing frustration from the afternoon still lingered in the air. "It hasn't even been forty-eight hours and I'm already tired of that joke, JJ," Willa muttered, her patience wearing thin. "Find a new one."

"Any subject off-limits?"

"You wouldn't recognize limits if they smacked you in the face," She insisted as she laid another card down.

"Got me there, kook bait," JJ conceded.

"I'm hardly even that anymore," Willa corrected him with another frown. JJ would have to find a new nickname for her if this treasure hunt adventure continued for much longer. And pogue bait just did not have the same ring to it.

"You'll always be kook bait," JJ seemed to promise her. He leaned forward over the rows of cards and examined Willa's hand. He then pulled a card free of her grip and carefully laid it down on one of her small stacks. "You're welcome."

"I didn't say thank you."

Willa still was not looking at him, but she could visualize his teasing smirk vividly. Then after a moment, JJ hopped off the counter and sauntered over to the fridge where he casually helped himself to one of John B.'s beers. He did not bother asking if Willa wanted one, though she did not expect him to. What did surprise her was when he returned to her side, hopping back onto the counter and resuming their conversation. Surely there were better things for JJ Maybank to occupy himself with than her presence alone.

"So, why aren't you with Kie?" He wondered.

Again, Willa kept her eyes down on the cards. "She wants to be alone," She shrugged. "You three should know to respect that."

JJ's gaze drifted toward the window beside them, the sunlight streaming in, casting shadows across the kitchen. Willa's eyes followed his, and they both looked out toward the jetty where Willa was insinuating the bothersome presence of Pope Heyward as he hovered over Kiara who sat over the still water's edge, dangling her feet. Clearly, she had disappeared to be alone. Clearly, Pope had not gotten the message.

"He's just trying to help," JJ defended.

"She doesn't need help. Not right now," Willa asserted firmly. A protectiveness had creeped into her tone. "She's upset, and she's allowed to be. No one can tell her otherwise."

"She's being dramatic."

"No, she's not. What John B. did was shitty."

"You're only saying that because your little heart's breaking, too."

Now, Willa's stern green eyes flashed to JJ's burning blues. "Don't act like you know me, JJ," She warned. "Because you don't."

"So, you haven't been pining over John B. this entire time?" He challenged her. Willa just scoffed and shook her head, quicker in her denial than John B. might have ever been. "Oh, come on," JJ snickered. "I saw you two at the Boneyard that first night, you know."

"Yeah?" Willa bit back, just as cold. "Well, you were seeing something that wasn't there."

And truly JJ had not seen anything. Not that night, anyway. That night, Willa and John B. had been little more than strangers chasing a cinnamon high. They had been stupid teenagers trying to lose themselves in the summer for just a little bit longer before the reality of a new school year set in. They had been lost in their own oblivion, forgetting about pogues and kooks for just a single moment. There had been no romance there. There had been nothing at all, except two strangers daring to see if they could become friends.

"Whatever you say, kook bait," JJ muttered. As always, he was desperate to get the last word wherever she was involved. "Just don't come running to me when the tears start flowing."

But she would not give him that satisfaction. Willa's stern gaze had turned into a narrow snarl. "You will be the last person I ever turn to," She huffed. "You can trust me on that."

"Trust you on what?"

Both so lost in their own world, Willa and JJ's startled eyes suddenly snapped in the direction of the kitchen entryway as John B. strolled in. He was looking between the two of them with a confused expression, waiting. No matter, the two teenagers in question only shook their heads in response, and answered together, "Nothing."

John B. hesitated but did not decide to push the matter. For all he knew, it was another pointless bickering match that he did not care to break up after all the other arguments he had already been through that afternoon. Instead, he turned toward the fridge and grabbed two beers. He held one out. "Willa?" He offered.

Willa silently accepted with a tiny nod and cracked the can open. Taking a small sip, she ignored JJ's watchful stare on her face as she returned to her game, desperate to distract herself from the growing tension. That was why she had pulled the cards out in the first place, after all.

Thankfully, her attempts at self-distraction were short-lived as Pope soon reentered the house. He looked a lot like a kicked puppy as he, too, made his way into the already crowded kitchen and reached into the fridge for a can of beer.

"So, what did Kie say?" John B. wondered.

"That you're an idiot," Pope responded bluntly.

John B. rubbed his eyes wearily, and Willa dared to ask him, "Did you expect her to say anything else?" The Routledge boy did not answer her. It was clear that the weight of his mistake was crushing him.

Beside Willa on the counter, JJ finally interjected, his words cutting through the tense atmosphere. "It's a no-brainer," He said. "You're picking Kie."

"Look, I can't make a decision," John B. protested, exasperated.

"So what? We're just dead in the water because you're pussy-whipped?" JJ argued. "We can't do this without Kie, and you know it."

"And I can't do it without Sarah, okay?" John B. retorted. "They both have to be in on it."

Pope's voice dripped with skepticism. "Good luck with that," He muttered.

John B. let out a defeated sigh. "You know what? I know this was my fault, all right?" He admitted. "But it's our problem. I've got a plan. And it starts with you, Willa."

Willa narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why do you think I would agree to help you?" She asked, her guard firmly in place.

"Because you don't want to do this without Kie, either," John B. reminded her.

"I could leave, too."

"But you won't."

Willa laid down her cards and shifted towards the negotiations at hand. She knew she would not be finishing her solitaire game now. "What's in it for me?" She prodded.

"The opportunity to make life-long friends?" Willa did not even blink at John B.'s playful and pathetic offering. Another moment of awkward silence beat on between them. Then, he rolled his eyes and said, with much more truth, "A bump in your cut?" He suggested.

"How big?"

John B. hesitated, now grappling with the unexpected hook he had thrown toward her. He, perhaps, hoped it would not catch. "How big do you want it to be?" He finally replied.

Willa contemplated briefly. "A million—"

"Okay—"

"Each," She cut him off. "One million from your three shares."

JJ could not contain his disbelief at her abrupt thrust in ambition. "No way!" He exclaimed in protest. "John B.—"

"Shut up, JJ," His best friend ordered as he held up a hand, silencing his objections.

JJ refused. He jumped from the counter and wheeled on Willa. "What about Kie's cut?" He demanded.

"I'm not taking from Kiara's cut because she has no idea what's coming," Willa explained firmly. "Besides, she's my friend."

"And we aren't?" JJ questioned. Willa almost laughed. As if he had any audacity to ask that after the way he had spoken to her mere minutes ago.

"Not right now you're not," She responded coolly. Then, she turned back to John B. and pushed off the counter, too. "That's my offer. Take it or leave it. But know if you leave it, I'm leaving, too."

John B. was silent for a long moment, considering his options. He glanced over at Pope, but the Heyward boy smartly held his tongue. He appeared to be fine with letting go of a piece of his fortune. And two ultimately outdid one.

"Fine," The Routledge boy resigned. "Three million"

"Good." Willa nodded her head gratefully. "I'm also going to need a stereo. And a half-gallon of Fireball."

"What for?"

Willa Deveraux smirked as she started out of the kitchen. She could feel the inquiring—and nervous—stares of the three boys following her, but she did not look back to meet a single gaze. "That's for me to know, John B.," She called mischievously over her shoulder. "And for you not to find out."

➸➸➸

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, WILLA'S nerves were, once again, rattling with guilt. This time, however, it had nothing to do with a damned Routledge boy, but everything to do with an unsuspecting Carrera daughter and a spoiled Cameron princess.

"Are you serious right now?"

"You've got to be joking!"

Willa Deveraux stood quietly back on the ship deck, inching away from the two fuming teenage girls that threatened certain death and mayhem as they screamed across the marsh to a trio of chuckling, sinisterly gleeful teenage boys who lingered on a nearby smaller vessel. With a half-gallon of Fireball whisky tucked behind her back, she waited for the exploding rage within two of her old friends to simmer down. At least, she hoped the storm would calm. It would only be a matter of time before Kiara and Sarah Cameron realized that she, too, was in on this mischievous plan to help two lost girls find each other again.

Yet so far, despite the evasion of the truth on the girls' end, the plan that Willa and the boys had come up with the evening before was proving to be a good one. Sarah Cameron had been oblivious to the trap John B. and JJ had set for her below deck, and Pope had easily managed to lull Kiara out onto the marsh under the pretense that John B., JJ, and Willa were stranded while out on delivery using Pope's father's boat. Once both girls had been secured on the boat, and Willa had been planted in place, the three boys had been quick to abandon ship and find solace on the much smaller HMS Pogue that still ran without a hitch.

Now, with nowhere left to go, with no ship to command, Kiara Carrera and Sarah Cameron were effectively stuck out in the middle of the marsh. They would be forced to communicate—lest they chose to spend the whole night in silence at opposite ends of the boat, which could very likely be possible, and was where Willa's presence came in. She would be the mediator for the night.

And it was going to be a long, long night.

"Get your asses back here!" Kiara screamed once more across the marsh.

"We can't!" John B. hollered back. "Not until you two figure it out!"

Kiara faltered at the mention of a number. She whipped around to Willa. "You were in on this?" She demanded.

Willa shrugged. "Maybe."

Kiara raked her fingers through her windswept brown locks. "I will kill every single one of you," She muttered in frustration.

Elsewhere, Sarah Cameron was still shouting after John B. "You can't just leave!" She cried.

"There's food and booze in the cabin, and JJ rolled a blunt!" Pope offered.

"This is ridiculous," Sarah Cameron snarled. Instantly, she began kicking off her shorts and pulled off her top to reveal a neon-pink bikini beneath. She was going to make a break for it. Rather—swim for it.

Kiara began doing the same and stripped her own shirt off. "I would rather drown than stay here with you, so . . ."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Willa lurched forward and grabbed Kiara's arm. "Sarah, you don't even know where you're going," She added.

Sarah Cameron brushed her off with a snap and leaped over the boat's railing, disappearing into the murky water below. Willa and Kiara cautiously awaited her resurfacing, and as soon as she broke through the water's surface, she immediately started paddling after the HMS Pogue, which was already receding into the sunset. "John B., you asshole!" She called after them, but her voice was nearly smothered by the lapping waves.

The last Willa heard of the boys before they were truly out of sight and heading back for the island was JJ's coy and playful laughter. "Love you, guys! Bye!" And then they were gone.

Willa watched as the sun slowly began to dip over the horizon. Below her, Sarah Cameron was still floundering in the water, still trying to follow in the direction that the boys had left. Beside Willa, Kiara was still fuming, even as she refused to speak.

"Lighten up, Kie," Willa advised. "It's one night. And we've got her outnumbered."

"Do we?" Kiara rolled her eyes. "Because it doesn't really feel like you're on my side right now, Willa."

Suddenly, Sarah Cameron began to squeal and yelp. Willa leaned over the edge of the boat once more and watched as the girl dipped beneath the waves, only to shoot back up a mere second later, clutching at her side. She was in near hysterics as she gasped out, "I got stung by a jellyfish! Shit!"

"Well, you swam right into a man-o'-war," Kiara deadpanned. "I don't know what you thought would happen."

Sarah Cameron began to swim, struggling with only one arm, back towards the ladder on the boat. Kiara remained unmoving at the stern, showing no inclination to help. Willa, however, moved swiftly to the ladder and extended her hand to the whimpering Sarah. The injured girl hesitated, but ultimately accepted the aid and allowed herself to be pulled back onto the deck. "T-Thank you," She stammered through her sobs.

"Don't mention it," Willa replied, as she offered her a towel next. As Sarah Cameron lifted her arms, Willa eyed the fresh sting and winced. Three red and puffy marks flashed painfully across the girl's tanned ribcage.

"Does it hurt?" Kiara asked smugly from somewhere over Willa's shoulder.

"Kie," Willa warned. The former just rolled her eyes again and turned her attention back to the horizon.

Sarah Cameron's teeth chattered as she settled down on the deck, her body trembling not from the cold, but from shock. Willa felt a pang of sympathy for the oblivious kook. It was clear that she had never experienced swimming in the marsh before. "You kn-know," Sarah Cameron attempted. "You know w-what they say . . . about curing j-jellyfish stings?"

"Oh, absolutely not," Kiara shot down, already knowing where this was going.

"You have to pee on me," Sarah Cameron insisted.

Kiara immediately ducked into the cabin, and Willa paused. Then, with as much strength as she could muster, she held her laugh down and instead turned to grab the large bottle of whisky she had put aside. "The best I can do is a shot," She offered the Cameron princess.

For a moment, Sarah Cameron did not move as she eyed the whisky that seemed to glow a golden amber in the dying sun. Willa watched her, inching the bottle closer, hoping she would take it. Never once had they been this close in so many years when alcohol was involved. Sure, they had been to many parties together growing up, but never once had they actually partied together.

Willa Deveraux found that she was willing to extend that olive branch to Sarah Cameron. Not just for the boys. Not just for Kiara. But for herself, too. To a forgotten kook girl who, just like the other teens that had slowly come to encompass Willa's entire life, might just become a remembered friend all over again.

Perhaps Sarah Cameron could see that possibility in Willa Deveraux, too.

Without another moment's hesitation, Sarah Cameron swiped the Fireball from Willa, flicked off the cap, and took a giant swig. A swig that was big enough for three shots. Slowly, Willa began to grin. The night was just about to begin.

➸➸➸

BY THE TIME NIGHT fell, Willa Deveraux, Kiara Carrera, and Sarah Cameron were completely obliterated. Drunk, and high, ridiculous, all rolled into one. But even though the three teenage girls were very much all on the same level, guards were still lifted, and attitudes were still tense, even as midnight rolled through.

But slowly, ever so slowly, tensions were beginning to fade.

Currently, Sarah Cameron was laughing uncontrollably as she watched Willa precariously balance on the ship's railing. With only one lantern left to illuminate the deck, and Willa's vision blurred and doubled, it truly was an impressive sight watching the reckless Deveraux daughter so confidently put one foot in front of the other.

Kiara sat closest to said lantern, holding the ghostly remains of JJ's lone blunt he had left for the three girls to share. They had burned through it so quickly. Now, she had no choice but to watch Sarah Cameron watch Willa, and her face was twisted with annoyance. Not for Willa's careless antics, no, but for the mere presence of the Cameron princess whom she so certainly despised, even after hours of forced close proximity.

For a while, Willa had done her best to keep the conversation flowing, pulling out all the best drinking games that she knew, but soon the whisky had come after her, too. Now, rather than being a counselor to mend a broken bridge, she was more of a collaborator in tearing it down further.

But who could blame her?

Quite frankly, in that moment, Willa did not care about the potential disappointment from the boys if they were to return in the morning and find no progress had been made. She was living in the moment, enjoying herself. Sarah Cameron appeared to be doing the same. The night was still young, and there was still hope that Kiara could find some enjoyment, too.

"Hey, guess what?" Sarah Cameron abruptly sputtered. "Would you rather . . . would you rather have . . ." She could barely get the words out between her waves of silly laughter. "I was just imagining you like this just now, Kie . . . It was pretty funny." On the opposite side of the lantern, Kiara was still dead silent, glowering, almost daring the golden-haired teen to continue in her drunken stupor. "Would you imag—no, no. Would you rather . . . have nipples for eyes or eyes for nipples?"

"Easy question," Willa drawled from across the deck. She was still balancing high above the two girls on the sleek railing. "Nipples for eyes."

Sarah Cameron's jaw dipped dramatically, and she laughed. "Okay, okay, but imagine . . . imagine if you get really old and your nipples—" She trailed off, and then continued again as if remembering her train of thought. "No, your boobs get saggy, and your nipples, if they were your eyes, you could see if your shoes were untied."

Willa tilted her head to the side. "Would I not be wearing a shirt?" She asked suspiciously. "You're telling me . . . in this scenario that I'm walking around entirely naked except for my shoes?"

Sarah Cameron laughed harder at the mental image Willa was conjuring. "Yes! You'd . . . You'd forget because . . . because you'd be so old."

"Bold of you to assume I'll ever get old."

Willa cackled loudly at her own teasing comment and took another sip of her drink. She currently had the entire bottle of whisky tucked under one arm. The cap had long since been lost, which Sarah Cameron and herself conceded meant they needed to drink the whole thing that night. Willa had done most of the damage, though, as Sarah Cameron was struggling through the hazy fade of a first-time high.

"Hey, Kiara . . ."

Kiara shut Sarah Cameron down immediately. "Oh, my God. Enough of the 'Hey, Kiara' bullshit!" She snapped, her words cold and mocking. Immediately, the latter girl stopped laughing, and Kiara decided to press on, "Why did you do it?"

Sarah Cameron's voice softened. "Why did I do what?"

"We were friends once, remember . . ."

The two girls' voices dropped even lower, and Willa hastily turned away as Kiara and Sarah Cameron continued to quietly converse, knowing this was a conversation she was not meant to hear. Given that the two girls were not screaming at each other, but rather daring to hold to their calm, Willa knew better than to try and mediate. They did not need her right now. In fact, she was almost certain they never had. She could never force the two girls to make up. They would have to do it, have to want it, for themselves.

And Willa was happy to leave them to their privacy. Perhaps they could even find room to bond over their mutual frustration with Willa's involvement in the pogue boys' plan. She hoped that they would.

"Fireball, weed, and nipples. Talk about a girls' night," Willa sighed to herself. She looked up toward the dark sky, littered so openly with bright and beautiful stars, as she took another step along the railing. She had one arm out to balance herself, the other still clinging tightly to the bottle. "What could—Oh, shit!"

Willa slipped.

For a fleeting moment, she was weightless, her body suspended in darkness. Then, the cold water of the murky marsh enveloped her. It tugged at her flimsy bikini, soaked her hair, threatened to invade her mouth, her nose, her eyes. Gasping and spluttering, shocked and in pain from the sudden impact, Willa twisted her body back to the surface, one arm breaking through the water, while the other clutched the open whisky bottle high above her head.

Two alarmed and terrified voices cried down to Willa as she resurfaced and she shook her head wildly, desperate to clear the water from her eyes and her ears. Willa could feel her feet kicking against the side of the boat—she did not dare to think of the other possible things her feet could be touching in the darkness of the marsh.

"Willa!" Kiara cried. "What the hell happened?!"

"Are you okay?" Sarah Cameron demanded.

Kiara held the lantern outward so that it lit up more of the water around Willa, and she was able to clearly see the two girls staring down at her in concern. Willa looked back at them, still treading water, with one arm, for the other was still occupied.

"Don't worry," Willa called back up to them. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and her ribs ached painfully as she regained her breath. But beneath it all, she had begun to laugh as she hoisted her arm higher, and suddenly warm, auburn glass reflected in the moonlight. "I saved the Fireball!"

The two girls standing on the deck were silent for less than a second before they began to join in the laughter, realizing that Willa truly was okay. Drunk and wet, now, most definitely, but okay. The intertwined joy of Kiara and Sarah Cameron was still ringing in Willa's ears as she swam to the ladder, grabbed the extended hands of her two friends, and allowed herself to be pulled back into the light and safety of the boat.

➸➸➸

BELIEVE IT OR NOT, when Willa Deveraux agreed to play the middleman between the warring Carrera and Cameron daughters, she never once anticipated that she would be physically sandwiched in the middle of them as they all laid on the open deck of the Heyward delivery ship. The night was unforgiving, the cold biting at exposed skin, and sleep seemed like a distant dream.

"Willa, I'm never going to get any sleep with your teeth chattering like that."

With blankets already pulled up to her chin, Willa tried to pull a semi-dry towel closer around her face. "S-Sorry," She murmured.

If Willa could guess, it was likely around four in the morning. It would not be long before the sun would begin to rise, and the world would begin to warm up again. Willa had already accepted that she would not be getting any sleep in this state. She just needed to survive the cold and the dark a little longer.

"Here," Sarah murmured softly. "Take another one of my blankets." She pulled the fabric free from beneath herself and passed it over to the shivering girl. Sarah then turned on her side, attempting to further shield Willa and fend off the gentle, but ever-so-persistent, wind that swirled over and around them.

"T-Thank you," Willa said as she twisted onto her back, and burrowed her hands into her newly acquired blanket. "I-I'm g-going to k-kill the boys tomorrow."

Kiara made a quiet sound from within her own cocoon of blankets. "Regret the plan yet?"

"And m-miss o-out on th-the cuddle p-puddle?" Willa tiredly teased. "N-no way." Quiet laughter filled the night once more. At least Willa still held her spirit, even as the drunkenness had faded away and the coldness of her swimsuit—her only clothing—set in for the night.

Several more minutes passed by in silence. Willa was still shaking, but she kept her eyes closed, hoping—just hoping—that sleep might be graceful enough to take her. But then Kiara spoke again, breaking the lull once more. "Hey, Sarah?" She called out.

"Hey, Kiara," Sarah responded coolly from Willa's other side.

Willa sensed Kiara shifting on her side in the darkness. "If you're with us . . ." Kiara paused and released a hesitant breath as if relinquishing a heavy burden. "Promise us that you won't bail on John B."

"I won't."

"Promise?" Kiara pressed, still understandably seeking reassurance.

Sarah nodded quietly in the dark, and Willa could feel her press closer to the two girls; feel her press closer to two of her new friends. "I promise," She whispered.

Willa could feel Sarah's gaze on her face, and she turned to meet her stare. No words were spoken as the two princesses locked eyes in the shadowy embrace of the marsh.

Take care of him, Willa Deveraux longed to say. Take care of him because I could not.

But instead, she only held her breath. Because Sarah Cameron would take care of him, and Willa would trust the girl to do that.

Then Willa let that same breath go, and she felt a sudden and profound weight fall off herself, too. Because John B. Routledge really was not hers anymore, and she finally trusted herself to let him go.

And so, even with a dying promise lingering on her silent lips, Willa held her tongue and decided that sometimes it was best to say nothing at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

right now, willa's in her reputation era. she has no time for bad feelings or bad blood. she decides what she allows to her hurt her now... if that means letting sarah cameron in, and letting john b. go, then so be it...

but how long is that going to last? muahahahahahaha

on another note, i've missed you all so much. i really need to get through season one if i have any chance at getting to a season three journey with miss willa... that is, if she survives that long. no matter, thank you all for continuing to show willa and the pogues and this story so much love. i appreciate the constant support so much. this is truly my favorite story to write. anyways, let's talk about this chapter. a lot happened! we had some fighting, we had some making up, who knows what's in store for these kids!!! what are you all thinking?!

again, sending you all my love. stay safe and well.

--B.