the hidden family tree

"YOU SURE YOU WANNA GO BACK TO YOUR HOUSE, JJ?" Pope asks, driving down the main road, away from the cops and the lighthouse.

JJ swallows, looking out his window, contemplating about bringing Martha back to his place.

He never brings girls back home because of his father and, well, he's just embarrassed and ashamed of his relative being shitfaced all the time.

Besides, he felt safer and more welcomed at the Holland's than his childhood home could give him.

Mrs. Holland is an angel to him, she bakes the sweetest and softest chocolate chip cookies out there. Their relationship was a bit rocky at first because she kept mentioning something about his satan-spawn dad.

He hasn't met Mr. Holland, he would like to, but Marty tells him that her father is always at the Camerons' talkin' business. He knows Martha would never lie to him but there's that taunting voice in the back of his mind, she's ashamed to have you meet her dad or your own father doesn't love you, you think hers will? He shakes his head from the intrusive thought.

"Uh- no, not really," he looks at the time on the dashboard. Father would be home by now. "We should probably go see Marty's mom and figure that whole Redfield thing out."

Marty smiles at him, ruffling his hair. She is sitting behind him as he sits shotgun. "Pope? Do you need directions to my humble abode?"

Pope laughs, nodding his head.

He's happy for the two, mostly because he's proud of himself for figuring out JJ's crush in the first place. Yes, he feels a little guilty for not trusting Marty when she originally was welcomed with open arms, but that was just his anxiety and over-thinking personality.

Maybe, it was a little bit of jealousy. He's always liked JJ a little more than a friend, and to see a new person come into the group and steal —that's not the word but you understand— his best friend.

He's happy for JJ, don't get that wrong, but he's worried. He's worried they're falling for each other a little too hard and it's just going to burn up in flames. To say that the pair don't have baggage and extreme amounts of trauma, you have to be blind.

"Okay, so you take a right on Seagull and then a left at Sea Haven."

➵ ➵ ➵

POPE WHISTLES AT THE SIGHT of Marty's summer vacation home. He pulls in front of its big lawn, freshly cut by some landscapers. Marty sighs in relief as she doesn't see her dad's car in the driveway.

Her mom's emergency vehicle is parked nicely, glistening in the afternoon sun as it has been freshly waxed.

The sandy driveway led to a cobblestone path that led up to the front steps of the two-story building. It has an off-white peachy coloring to the outside and two big pillars holding up a decorative balcony. The front door was painted blue and there are gigantic windows allowing the maximum amount of sunlight into the house.

"Looking humble, alright," Pope speaks up sarcastically as he turns off the engine and gets out of the car.

"That's what I said," JJ turns to Pope as he follows Marty up the driveway and to the front door. "Marty here is a suga' mamma," he comments, as she leans down to dig in a potted plant.

"You wish," she says snarkily, pulling out a spare set of house keys. She jiggles them in her hand, shaking off excess dirt, before snaking them in the front door. She holds the door open for the two boys, allowing them to go inside first. Once they are in her house, she quickly walks out and puts the keys back behind the plant.

"Take your shoes off, don't want incriminating scent traces through my house," she states, her voice sarcastically condescending. "That, and my mom has oversensitive ears," she explains, slipping off her Converse and walking to the kitchen. The boys follow her lead.

Pope stares in wonder at the expensive paintings hanging on the walls, the marble-tiled kitchen floor, and the high ceilings. As he walks through the grand foyer and the brightly lit hallway, he recognizes a young Marty hugging a young Sarah Cameron. They were at, what looks to be, Midsummer.

Shit, that's happening soon.

"Mom?!" Martha shouts as she walks her way through the kitchen and into the middle of her house. "I'm home!" She walks to her fridge, grabbing some Arizona Iced Tea and settling the container on the marble countertop. "I brought JJ," she says louder, lowering her voice from shouting, "and Pope." She quickly heads for a wall cupboard, pulling out three glasses.

"Ice?" She looks up to the boys, who found themselves on the island barstools. JJ nods, smiling at how she's using her bussing skills to multitask. Pope isn't paying attention, not until JJ elbows him.

"Uh, what? Sorry," Pope speaks, his face flushing from embarrassment.

"You're good," she dismisses, opening the freezer door and scooping up her and JJ's ice. "I asked if you wanted ice with your Arizona?" She sets the cups down. Pope shakes his head no after some thought. She pours the iced tea and quickly slides the cups over to the thirsty boys.

"Martha?" A woman's voice calls from the other side of the house. "Did you say, Pope, as in ol' Heyward's son?" Lola Holland makes her way down the main stairs with a coffee cup in one hand and an old novel in another. She is wearing one of her husband's old tee and ripped jeans. She saunters into the open-door kitchen with the book in her face.

Pope side-eyes JJ, who calmly pats his friend on the shoulder knowingly. "She knows a lot of people," he mumbles, smirking at Marty's face.

"Mom, please put the Kite Runner down," Marty expresses, softly sipping from lemon-flavored tea. "This is important, we need your help."

"What could possibly be more important than the character development of Amir?" She ignores her daughter, turning another page, as she leans on the counter without a care in the world.

"Are we related to the Routledge's?"

She ultimately settles down the novel, a dark chuckle slipping from under her breath. "It's about time you asked."