𓆝 𓆟 𓆜 𓆞 𓆡
One. Agatha Was A Feisty Storm.

A day filled with trees, creaking against the wind — in a dance where they battle for the top spot. People huddled inside spaces, and corners just so they could make it out of the storm alive. Agatha wasn't happy so she left her mark for hours until the end. Throughout the night a light orchard shade dripped down the windows and reflected into the room, its shadows forming paintings that disappeared by one movement. With her hands outstretched arms in an empty bed, she got ahold of her phone from the nightstand. At this time, she would be face timing Pope and discussing whatever plans JJ and John B felt the need to drag them into. Sadly, no service.

Aaliyah scanned the room in a daze until sleep decided to finally wear off, she'd already taken three naps and wasn't so sure if she could handle another one. After rubbing her eyes with a yawn that made her almost fall off the bed, she walked around the room, mainly to walk the sleep away, and decide what she was going to wear for the day and finally decided on tugging on the same pair of denim shorts she wore yesterday (her jeans rarely got dirty), then slipped on an oversized tee she stole from Pope (he's never getting it back) to conceal her green bikini top underneath. The emerald and blue orchid pendant necklace and multiple beaded bracelets made their arrival on her skin, whereas her braids were styled in a half updo with two strands in the front. And like always, her green tote bag was in clutch.

Pondering for a moment, she falls back onto the bed. Slowly her thoughts come to consume her whole. She needs to get up.

Aaliyah tried to not think about the hurricane, keeping her thoughts hidden between all 304 pages of Pretty Little Liars. She almost wished it was a dream, wished it was a part of some movie where the island would just have some small bit of damage. But she knew all too well that it was just her imagination talking and things like that rarely happen in real life.

A quiet sigh escaped Aaliyah's lips, the restrained feeling of fatigue building inside her as she forcibly pulled herself out of bed yet again and released her limbs from the shackles that were laziness. Her eyes ponder over the empty dip in her bed, it being from when Brianna sat. When the storm got worse the thirteen-year-old decided to spend the hours in Aaliyah's room where the storm wouldn't be close enough to touch her. She'll swear that she wasn't scared but both she and Aaliyah knew better.

With her bedroom door slamming shut behind her, Aaliyah's nose scrunched up from the many different smells the air gave her. She always found the smell of post-hurricane oddly satisfying but abnormal at the same time. It was tangy, slightly fresh with the smell of salt growing strong. It clung to her hair, got damp in her shoes, wrapped around her bare arms and torso. Aaliyah knew that Figure Eight wouldn't have had an issue with the hurricane since it tended to get back on its feet before the average human could blink. The Cut, however... she knew it got the worst end of the stick.

While resting her back against the kitchen counter, she couldn't help but look down at her phone. None of the boys called the next morning. None, and she'd been checking her phone every five seconds to see if she'd just missed a call or message. Aaliyah expected the Cut to lose their power but the thought of that didn't make her feel better. She was worried about them. Like a mother peering out of the window every second for her child to come back home — that's how she felt. She hadn't seen what the outside looked like yet. Refused to see what it looked like. She didn't like hurricanes. The idea of death surrounding it made her feel queasy inside. And so she found her mother walking into the kitchen, a phone pressed against her. "Morning Mom." She calls out.

A smile appeared on her mature features, the corner of her eyes crinkling softly, Amanda addressed her daughter with a small wave. "Morning honey, can't talk right now — important call." Turning her head, she brings the phone even closer to her ear, "Yeah, yeah, make sure that everything..."

With a shake of her head, Aaliyah headed out into the backyard and it was quite something. A broken tree trunk had fallen into the pool, yard was littered with leaves and branches. She was sure that they had to have had snakes lingering around somewhere. And it didn't help that the Jackson Estate developed its flood but with the workers Elliot called, it was a matter of time before their home returned to what it was before the storm.

Crossing her arms, she knew that it would be a matter of time before either he or Mom would ask her to do some chore on their behalf. It wasn't until Brianna finally made her arrival with her arms crossed as well.

"Think mom and dad'll make us help clean? Asked Brianna whose braids flipped over her solider. "Because I promised to go over to Wheezie's place."

"I'm sure with all the people he has here our assistance wouldn't be needed." Glancing down at her phone, the lock screen of her and Pope appeared. "But I do have some business to take care of down at the Cut."

• • •

Just as she suspected, the Cut was turned into an absolute disaster. Like vines cables hung hazardously on houses, the longing sense of danger being evident as it could kill someone with just one touch, Agatha was angry, and with all she touched the houses came crashing down, and roads were muddy and blocked. It was a complete wreck and like many wrecks, Aaliyah couldn't help but feel guilty. With her Jeep parked near the Tiki's Boutique. So far the shop was in decent condition with no flooding and Aaliyah was happy, which meant fewer problems on her hands.

    With a box in her hand, she handed out the first aid supplies to those who needed them (her mother had her do the rounds first, and later on in the day she'd stop by). Whilst struggling with the box a bold and big sign that read Heyward's Shop played in her vision while Aaliyah walked down the boardwalk. The familiar stature of a man and his son grew more clearer and she was more than happy. Her lips naturally stretched into a smile and immediately waved. "Heywards!" She called out.

    Pope and Heyward turned their heads in her direction, eyes squinting from the heat before opening in realization. "I've been wondering when I'll see you pop up." The father announced brightly. Whenever it came to Aaliyah his usual hardened expression withered away. "How you doing, Aaliyah? I hope it didn't get too bad over there."

"I'm good. Agatha didn't do us too bad, just a trunk in our pool, leaves everywhere. The usual." Looking around, she couldn't help but sigh. "She sure did a lot here though."

Heyward could only chuckle. "It ain't nothing like we haven't dealt with before."

Eventually, he walked away to head back into his shop and Aaliyah could only smile at Pope as he hosed down the dock. "Hey."

"Hey, AJ."

Placing the box down, she tilts her head with a knowing expression. "Let me guess, Pops still got you on lockdown?" She asked, referring to last night's conversation."

He sighed. "You have no idea. I've been out here since seven in the morning and I'm sure since then that I've gotten a tan."

"I can see that." Referring to his open shirt, a teasing grin made its way across her lips. "Putting in that work I see."

"I try." Pope shrugs it off giving off the impression of trying to look cool about what Aaliyah said but deep down inside butterflies slowly fluttered inside his stomach.

"Well, look who we have here." John B humored, accompanied by JJ's whistling. Both turning their head they spot the HMS Pogue with its passengers inside. John B's chin tucks into his chest, a hand cupping over his mouth, to mimic an intercom, "We have a safety meeting. Attendance mandatory." A static crackling scratches his throat.

"Uh—"

"I would love to but my mom kinda has me on duty right now." Declined Aaliyah who looked down at the box. It was almost empty so if she were to leave she'd be fine, she just didn't want to deal with the wrath that is her mother.

"My pop's got me on lockdown," Pope adds to her statement, squinting his eyes from the harsh sunlight, observing as the boat reels in towards the end of the pier. He can feel his dad's presence circle to stand behind him.

"Come on, man." JJ drops his chin, imitating John B. by cupping his mouth. "Your dad's a pussy. Over."

"JJ." Aaliyah scolds with a roll of her eye. "You're not helping whatsoever."

"Oh, I heard that. You little bastard." Heyward spat, his heavy, set eyes glowering at the blond. He didn't mind JJ, it's just that sometimes the teenager liked to poke fun at him for the thrill of it.

     Snapping his fingers in Aaliyah's direction, JJ's quick to whisper. "Can you please ask him? He's likely to let Pope here off the hook if you ask. We all know you're his favorite because of your mom."

      "Right, uh, okay..." Aaliyah turns to Heyward. Her voice becomes louder and clearer, "I was wondering if we could steal Pope for a bit—"

      "We need your son." John B. blurts strongly. He ignores the quick little head shake from Pope and instead stares up innocently, a little too innocent in the sense that made it clear that they were up to no good. No good at all. Heyward picked up on it quickly.

    "With your permission of course," Aaliyah adds, hoping with her input it would make the decision a bit easier.

      "Yeah, and island rules." JJ made up on the spot which only made them raise a brow at his statement. "Day after the hurricane's a free day."

     "Who the hell made that one up?" Heyward juts his hip out, it was a bodily expression that Aaliyah'd seen many times when her mother was suspicious of her going out plans.

     "Uh..." JJ ponders for a moment. He searches Aaliyah's eyes for answers.

     "The Pentagon?" Aaliyah states, sounding unsure since she wasn't so sure if that was an actual thing. "Right! I read it in an article once."

     "Pentagon — yeah, I think. We have security clearance. I have a card."

     "Think I'm stupid?" Heyward scoffed finding the excuse unbelievable. No?

     Pope, only being a leap away from the boat, glances between his father to his treasured friends. Life or death situation, if you will. So, he decides on the spot, "I'll do it tomorrow. I promise. Tomorrow."

"Uh, If it makes you feel better I'll accompany him." Throwing her tote bag on the boat, Aaliyah grabs Pope's hand, and they wind up leaping onto the boat quickly, much to Heyward's disappointment. "We'll have him back in one piece."

"You tell me if those boys are troubling you, Liyah!" He grunts, watching as the water slowly treads them along. "I'll kick every single one of their asses. You wait until you get back, boy. You gonna be cleaning shrimp, clean fish—"

"Love you, Pops!—"

"You'll clean your dirty-ass room!"

"One piece." John B reiterates Aaliyah's words.

"And I don't like your friends!" His voice carries off far into the wind, after the running boat. "Now what am I supposed to tell Amanda." He refers to Aaliyah's mother, frowning off into the distance at the sight of her sitting next to Pope.

"Kids these days." Shaking his head, he grabs the box from where Aaliyah placed it. "Got no damn manners."

        AUTHOR'S NOTE.
Chapter one is officially now out! What are your thoughts on Aaliyah? Her parents? Sister? Her and Pope's relationship? Her and the boys dynamic? Let me know and I hope you enjoy it!