"I THOUGHT THE CHATEAU LOOKED BAD."

Tatum hummed, keeping her hand in her left pocket at all times. There was no way she was letting her friends step a foot out of that boat without the protection of her pistol - even if Kiara would kill her for brining the thing along. But what she doesn't know can't hurt her.

"This place is a shitshow," John B agreed with a nod.

"Motel or meth lab?" commented Kie, her eyes switching back and forth from the sketchy building and Tatum's dirty wound.

"You be the judge," said Pope, standing beside Tatum and eyeing the weapon peaking out of her pocket. He didn't comment on it. He might be her best friend, but no amount of cheek-kisses would magically make his fears disappear. Everybody in Outerbanks knew how unpredictable Tatum Quinn was, and being her friend only made you even more cautious. Not even JJ would drop his guard around her with such a deadly weapon. One wrong word, and it would be over. Or maybe she would simply be bored that day, and decide that murdering someone might be fun.

"Doesn't look like the type of place somebody with a Grady-White stays," John B pointed out.

Tatum nodded. "I think Joseph stayed here to do a film once," she said, using all her will-power to not scratch out the stitches in her arm.

"So, probably a place someone with a Grady-White gets murdered," said Pope, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off his chest when she took her hand off the pink gun. Tatum, noticing his relieved reaction, turned to face him with furrowed eyebrows. She understood why people were so cautious around her, and she usually liked that, but when it was her friends, it stung worse than a wasp. It made her realise that, at the end of the day, nobody ever really trusted her.

"All right, here we go," said John B as they approached the swampy grass.

JJ smirked and covered his mouth, speaking as if he were on a radio as he said, "This is your captain speaking. HMS Pouge comin' in for landing."

Tatum grinned, already forgetting about Pope's uncomfortable reaction to her, and clapped her hands childishly. She loved breaking into places. She loved the rush it gave her - the adrenaline. She loved the idea of getting caught - the thrill of a life behind bars. Most kids were terrified of it, but she was a Quinn; she'd die in a cell whether she liked it or not. It was her destiny.

JJ jumped out first, tieing the boat to a log as the others prepared for the next step. John B was determined for a mystery, Pope was almost peeing himself at the thought of getting into trouble, Tatum wanted to dance in delight, and Kiara just hoped nothing went wrong - especially considering JJ, Tatum and John B were the ones to actually go in. The trio nobody could trust together, because they found absolutely everything hilarious and always ended up doing something stupid.

"We good?" asked John B, ready to get going.

"Yeah, we good," answered JJ, finishing the knot.

Tatum jumped out of the boat excitedly and wrapped her arms around the tall blonde.

"Hey," said Pope before John B got off to join them.

"Yep."

He pointed at their dancing, irresponsible friends. "Don't let them do anything stupid."

JJ and Tatum paused and looked up at them. "Oh, we will," said JJ, while Tatum was silently begging Pope not to bring up the gun. Kiara would murder her. In the most brutal way possible.

"I'm not making promises," John B told him, because he knew there was no stopping the two of them once they were started.

"Yeah, I know."

Tatum smiled, telepathically thanking him for not mentioning the heavy weapon in her pocket. He nodded back loyally. She didn't know whether it was out of fear or respect that Pope didn't snitch, but she was grateful either way. She loved him - she loved all her friends - and she wished they would realise that she would never hurt them. She would hurt the people that hurt them. Kill them, even.

Her face froze as she watched Kiara turn to John B. "Be careful," she said, handing him the key to the shitty motel. "I mean it." Tatum's mouth parted and her chest hurt. Physical pain. She received physical pain at the words of Kiara Carrera telling her best friend to be careful. Holy shit, Tatum Quinn was jealous.

She shook her head, instantly snapping herself out of the trance when she came to the realisation. There was no way in hell she would allow herself to be that girl. What the fuck was wrong with her? And why did Kiara drive her so fucking crazy? She followed John B and JJ as they began walking up the stairs, turning around to give Kie one last look before she left. But the girl was already looking at her, guilt in her expression, as if she knew exactly what Tatum was thinking.

"Why are all these mattresses out?" asked John B upliftingly, squeezing Tatum's waist playfully, waiting for her excitement to kick in again. It was hard to get her to shut up for five minutes on a normal occasion, nevermind when they were about to do something illegal. Quietness just wasn't a thing in her dictionary, but she hadn't said a word in the few moments that Kiara had left him the warming warning.

"After a hurricane, they ditch 'em' cause they're moldy," JJ answered, oblivious to the girl's silence, as he was so excited himself.

"No, it's probably because of all the porn they make here," said Tatum, throwing her arms over the boys' shoulders as they walked up the steps to the room.

Everything was going okay, and Tatum was back to being her bubbly self already. Until, JJ decided to rub John B's shoulder and hold his chin, saying, "Just be so careful, John," making her face drop all over again.

She walked ahead of the boys, focusing hard on finding the right door and trying to block out their words. But JJ was so loud that it was hard to hear anything else. Not even her mind was bold enough to blur out his noise.

"What was that?" he asked with a laugh, pulling Tatum back towards them before she went completely out of eyesight. She sighed.

"I don't know," John B said, throwing out his arms. "Maybe she wants us to be careful."

"Since she heard you were being threatened with exile, she's just been, like -" He began massaging John B's shoulders again, while Tatum frowned. "Oh! Be so careful, John B." And when his friend pushed him away again, he only went on more. "Oh, give me that John D already." He raised his arms in question. "Like, when are you gonna swoop on that, bro?"

Tatum clenched her jaw and squeezed the arm of her coat in comfort, drowning herself in the old scent of her childhood. 90% of her mind was always on Kiara Carrera. She literally thought about her 24/5. But she never thought of her with another one of their friends, and the very image of it made her stomach twist. She couldn't watch that every day. She couldn't stand there and listen to John B and Kie tell each other they loved each other. She'd lose her mind. She'd end up doing something bad. Maybe that was why Kiara never liked her back - because in the end, Tatum would always be the messy person who only ever does bad.

"Bro, you know the rule. No pouge-on-pouge macking," said John B. Nobody in the history of pouges followed that rule - until Kiara Carrera. She took in that rule and treat it like the law, no matter how many of her hot friends crushed on her. "Besides, you're the one always hitting in her."

"Dude, of course I'm hitting on her," said JJ simply. "She's a super-hot, rich, hippie chick slumming with us."

Tatum frowned at his description of Kie. He was completely right, of course, but she was so much better than 'hot'. She was beautiful, breathtaking and the only bright light in a life full of darkness.

"Why?" he went on anyway. "I can't figure it out either, but who cares, bro? I know that door's locked because I've already tried it. Have you?"

Even though the question wasn't directed at her, Tatum thought hard about her answer. There was no way Kiara hadn't noticed her liking for her. She might've been best friends with a bunch of thick-heads - minus Pope - but Kie wasn't anywhere near the dumb category. Maybe the door was locked for Tatum, and she should just give up trying after all.

"You need help," said John B, pointing a finger at the dumb blonde. "Not a little bit of help, you need a lot of help." He threw his arms out in front of him for emphasis. "It's like every girl who has a heartbeat, you're like...'uhh'!"

JJ pointed to an unusually quiet Tatum. These were normally the conversations she loved to join in and tease the boys. "Not Tate."

"You used to," said John B, "before she came out."

Tatum cringed at the memories of the boy she considered a brother being obsessed with her. "I only came out so he didn't kiss me," she said.

"Oh, so now you speak?" said JJ sarcastically.

They paused at a door. "Is that us? Twenty-nine?" asked John B, checking the key number. He looked back up at Tatum. "And besides, we're not even sure Kie's into guys."

"Great. So the only two hot girls that bother with us are lesbians."

Tatum rolled her eyes, a grin playing at her face as the idea of her and Kie came back into her mind. She nodded to John B, who was still looking at the door. "This is us."

JJ stood in front of them so that he could be the one to knock. He put on a girly, high-pitched voice, and squeaked, "Housekeeping."

Tatum, who had been doing this since she learned how to walk, giggled and checked the windows to make sure no one was home. She then carefully looked around them, managing to catch Kiara's eye again, who gave her a light smile.

"Should we try it?" asked John B.

She nodded. "Yeah
No power, no security cameras, no one's gonna know."

In response, JJ mumbled some words in Spanish that neither of his friends understood. He opened the door, and the three of them stepped inside of the plain motel room.

Tatum looked around. Everything was basic, other than the two duffel bags on the bed and bench. "Well," she said with a bored face, "this is pretty shit."

John B shook his head, desperate for some kind of mystery. "Check the bag," he ordered. "See if there's a name on there somewhere."

"Do it yourself," said Tatum with a pout. She smirked at the scented machine in the corner. "I'm in need of energy."

"I thought ADHD did that for you," said JJ.

"Fuck off," she replied sweetly, turning on the coffee machine as the boys went to check through the bags.

"A jacket," said JJ.
"Denim slides," said John B.
"No name on the jacket. It's a nice jacket, though."
"Definitely over 50. He's got new balances."

Tatum rolled her eyes, humming to the sound of the water boiling and tapping her fingers along the set of drawers - a set of surnames along the sides. There was one name that caught her eye. It made her breath hitch. It took her completely off-guard. Limbrey. There was no way.

"You guys, come here," said JJ, cutting her out of the moment. "Maybe this is where they went fishing."

"Fuck off, I'm making my coffee," Tatum told him, blocking out their voices as they went on into a random conversation.

"I'm surprised you even know how to use that thing, considering we're too poor to afford one," said John B, standing behind her.

"Rafe Cameron has one in his bedroom," she told him simply. "Joe stole it the other night."

She waited for the boys to leave before curiously glancing back at the draw. There was over a hundred families with the surname 'Limbrey' these days, so there was no way it could mean - just the thought of it made Tatum sick with anxiety, but also giddy like a child. She hugged the coat she never took off close. She inhaled the unwashed scent. She missed it so much.

The sound of beeping made her attention snap back towards the boys. She furrowed her eyebrows and stared down at the locked safe.

"Punching shit at random. That will...definitely work," commented JJ sarcastically as John B tried opening it.

Tatum took her freshly-brewed coffee and stood behind them curiously. JJ went back to the desk, and muttered on about fishing coordinates. But her attention was fixed on John B, who looked as though he may have worked something out. He held a small piece of paper in his hand, and typed in a new code on the safe. The lock clicked, allowing him to open it.

It was extraordinary. The sight of all that money literally made Tatum spit out her hot drink. She might have to go back on the 'no stealing' promise she made to Kie, because, holy hell, she wasn't sure if she had the self-control to just walk away from all that.

"Holy shit," whispered John B, looking at her with a smile as she pulled out the hundreds of dollars. "JJ..."

He finally shut up and turned towards them. "Hmm."

"How much do you want?" asked Tatum, waving the cash in the air excitedly, not caring when she spilt the scolding hot drink all over her leg.

JJ scrambled over the floor with a sudden burst of energy as he discovered the money. "I want all of it."

"Hah. No way. Finder's keepers," said Tatum, stuffing chunks of it in her empty pocket.

"Then it should all be mine," said John B. "But we're not stealing anything, remember?"

"Remember what?" asked Tatum, a large grin on her face. "All the weed we can buy outa this shit? No, because we've never had this much money. Hell, maybe we can even buy rich-people drugs. Like coke. Or, or -"

There was a tap on the window. The three of them looked out to find Pope and Kie jumping up and down.

"What the fuck are they saying?" asked Tatum.

"Cops," said John B. And the moment the word came out of his mouth, the door began to be pounded on.

"Shit."

In a panic, the three of them climbed out the window. John B and JJ flattened themselves on either side, while Tatum hung like a monkey from the bottom, the thrill of falling pumping through her head. She loved it. This rush drove her crazy in the best way possible.

The window opened and they all fell silent as Shoupe searched around it. Tatum couldn't have been grinning any wilder and wider. She purposely dropped one hand to see what it would feel like by only hanging on with the other. She loved it.

From the lake, Kie was shooting a glare at her. She was going to fall to her death, the absolute idiot. And to make matters worse, the moment the window shut again, something was dropped to the floor. A bubblegum pink gun. Yep. Kiara Carrera was going to kill Tatum Quinn.

A/n: This is the longest chapter I've written, and it's so late and my eyes are tired. So, again, please correct me on any mistakes so I can go back and edit them.