ii. the bane of her existence

Days later and she was still camping out in the Camerons's yacht. Most of the island was still without air conditioning. Nova's house one of those places. Even Nolan couldn't bear the heat of their home any longer and checked himself into a room at the country club which was running on multiple generators to keep their members happy.

Sleeping on a boat was more comfortable than one would think. Especially if the boat was a yacht. It wasn't like braving under the open sky and surrounded by the open waters. The yacht was just a small house inside a really big boat. There was a bathroom, three bedrooms, and a full kitchen that they had to themselves. And air conditioning.

Usually, Nova would wake in a bedroom with Sarah since they've been bunking together in the master room. Sharing the King-sized bed. But Sarah had gone to bed early and Nova stayed awake in the living room, watching tv until her eyes wouldn't stay open anymore. She ended up passing out on the couch. And woke to the sound of clanking metal falling to the floor.

"You're not a Cameron," yawned Nova, blinking to let her eyes adjust to the light pouring in from the open door.

Once again, John B. Routledge stood before her. This time carrying Ward Cameron's scuba gear. Nova looked at the clearly empty tanks then back up to John B.

"Uh, yeah, you are correct," he said nervously.

He was careful to keep his voice low, knowing that wherever Nova Scott was, Sarah Cameron wouldn't be far away.

"What're you doing here this early?"

"I'm dropping off some scuba gear," he nodded toward the tanks that he'd let tumble onto the floor. "What ─ I mean, what're you doing here?"

"Uhm, sleeping," said Nova.

Her eyebrows raised suspiciously.

"Right, yeah, of course," John B. quietly cursed himself for asking such a stupid question.

Nova nodded toward the tanks, "Are those the tank you took the other day?" Quickly, John B. bent down to pick them up off the ground. "Did you get them topped off?"

She knew the answer to that already. Nova just liked watching John B. squirm.

"No," he shook his head. "No, the power's down, so the compressors were off."

Nova nodded and John B. cleared his throat nervously.

"So, you're just sneaking onto Ward Cameron's boat at five in the morning with empty tanks?" the ends of Nova's lips threatened to twitch into a smile. "Sounds a little weird, but don't worry, I'll just tell Ward the compressors was off for you."

John B's eyes widened, filling with horror, but he nodded anyway, desperate not to blow his cover, "Okay ─ Okay, cool. Yeah, cool." Slowly he put the scuba tanks down, back onto the carpet. Nova watched confused, there was no way he was just going to leave them there. "I'll just drop these off here."

"Mhm," nodded Nova. "I'm sure the middle of the floor is where Ward would like his gear kept."

John B. scoffed, "Yeah, well, this is pretty much where he told me to leave them."

Nova shrugged, "Okay."

She watched him. He began to turn away from and she grew curious. She didn't believe he was just going to leave them here. It was clear he'd stole the gear. Was what he was doing that important that he couldn't ask Nova to forget what she saw?

Then he spun around, "Actually, you know, what exactly are you going to tell Ward?"

There was a nervousness in his tone. Nova found it funny. He was stressed, running his hand through his tangled, curly hair.

"Oh, well, nothing bad, of course," said Nova with wide, innocent eyes, that were so, very fake. "Just that you took his scuba gear."

"Fuck."

John B. began pacing.

"Look, I just borrowed them for a few hours and then brought them back fully in-tact!"

"Minus the air..."

"Look can you just not tell Ward about this..." he paused. "Or any other Cameron," John B. clarified. "It'll get me fired."

"I won't tell," said Nova, and John B. let out a premature breath of relief. "Under one condition."

Nova was going to let him off the hook that easy. Not after the way he talked to her the other day.

"If you're looking for an apology from JJ, he ─"

"I don't want an apology, Topper got what he deserved."

John B's eyebrows furrowed, confused as to what it was Nova Scott could want from him, "Then what?"

"I want to know what you used the scuba gear for."

"What?"

"It had to be something important, considering how nervous you look right now," said Nova, on the verge of laughing at a shifting John B.

"It wasn't important," he told her. "My friends and I just had some fun, that's all."

"You know..." sighed Nova. "I don't like it when people lie to my face."

"Fine!" John B's tone was harsh ─ impatient. "You really want to know?"

Nova nodded, "Duh."

"I'm on a treasure hunt. I needed the gear to follow a lead."

Nova snorted a laugh. At least his lies were creative. Though a bit childish, it was still funny, and completely unexpected. But John B. didn't find it as funny as Nova. In fact, John B. wasn't laughing at all. He stood, completely serious.

"Oh my god," Nova's eyes widened with realization. "You're serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious," he rolled his eyes.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

Though it was still a challenge to keep from laughing.

"Okay," Nova coughed. "Okay, your secret is safe with me, John B."

John B. sighed a thank you. Relief filling his tone. Nova smiled, watching him turn his back to her and hurry away from the boat before she had the chance to question him anymore on his supposed treasure hunt.

Nova didn't have to keep his secret. She had no obligation to him. She did, however, owe something to the family who has been allowing her to bunk on their yacht. And yet, she'd promised John B. anyway. She wasn't going to say anything about what happened this morning. Not even to Sarah.

A familiar boat engine roared to life outside. It shook before coming to life. Nova smiled knowingly. John B. had waited to see if she'd follow him out. And when she didn't, he rode off into the morning sun.

Meanwhile, once the clacking engine could no longer be heard, Nova covered herself back up and snuggled into the couch. Completely unaware to the listening ears who had heard everything between the good-for-nothing Pogue and the too-good-for anything Kook. 

Nova didn't wake again until after eight that morning. And it still felt too soon. Summer mornings were meant to be slept through, at least that was Nova's belief. But Ward Cameron disagreed. Apparently one should rise with the sun.

As she did every morning, Nova ate breakfast with the Cameron's on the patio. But afterward she said her goodbyes, remembering to thank Ward and Rose for letting her stay, and she went home.

She didn't realize how much she'd missed her house until she passed the gate and started up her driveway.

The house itself was hidden in the depths of the islands. Covered by hills and trees on Figure 8. Designed by her mother. A final piece of her left in the footwork of the home. The winding, mile long driveway led to the front of the stone home. Too large for only four people, and feeling so incredibly lonely with only three. Most of the time two.

But the house was made to hold them. Even before Talulah Scott knew her children would exist the home she designed was for them.

The game room had kept a growing Nolan busy for hours. The in-home theater made parties and birthday parties even more enjoyable. The pool kept them cool during the humid summer days. And the music room, that had since been moved to another space in the home, was where Talulah had taught her kids everything they knew. She was an expert in the musical arts. She could play any instrument. Her sweet voice lulled them to sleep. She'd danced for hours and hours, and kept a young Nova completely enthralled by her seemingly effortless movements. This home she built helped raise Nova.

The path leading to the large, wooden doors, hidden beneath a top floor balcony seemed bare. Only decorated with eloquently trimmed bushes and a garden that somehow remained year-round. Behind the house was where the activities lie. A pool, adorned with a slide and diving board, always seeming to have floating devices drifting in the cool water. A tennis court over the hill. Where her dad would sometimes go to let off some steam. Where she'd been coached in private lessons during her middle school years, so now she plays for her high school tennis team. There was also a buggy racing track through the field because at one point in his life, Nolan had grown obsessed with doom buggy racing.

Nova felt it when she opened the door. The cool blast of air that burst through and nearly knocked her off her feet. With such glee she fell to her knees, hovering over a vent in the floor that let out cold air. She relished the rising goosebumps on her skin as the cold sent a chill through her body.

"When did it start working?" asked Nova.

Nolan had been standing in the front foyer watching her with a concerned look in his eyes. He'd been standing there since hearing her car pull out front, and got to witness Nova's dramatic fall when she felt the air coming through the vents.

"Early this morning, I think," he told her, as he watched his little sister pull herself back onto her feet. "It was working when I got home about an hour ago."

"I'm so relieved," she sighed, walking further into the house, remembering to shut the door behind her. "I don't know how much longer I would have made it on that boat."

She was being dramatic. She could've made it another night on the yacht. She'd been on a cruise before. With her grandparents. Didn't necessarily enjoy it, but she toughed it out for a few weeks.

Nolan snorted, "You didn't have to be on the boat anyway. You remember we have a membership at the club, right?"

"It was just easier to bunk with Sarah," Nova shrugged.

She followed Nolan into the kitchen where a cinnamon PopTart had just finished in the toaster.

"It was nice to get out of the house, though," he bit into the still hot tart. "Their breakfasts are bangin'!"

Nova snorted at her brother's choice of words.

"So," she asked, pulling herself up so that she was sitting on the kitchen counter. "What're your plans for the day?"

Nolan shrugged, leaning against the island counter-top across from his sister. He looked scarily like their dad right now. He always had favored their father, though. The sandy-colored hair, their jawline. It was practically a copy and paste situation.

A lot of Nolan's popularity was because of his looks. And he knew this, and he didn't care. In fact, he often used it to his advantage. Nolan was a charmer ─ a ladies' man. Though he never was able to keep a girlfriend for long, in fact, he hardly kept a girl long enough to make her his girlfriend. Nolan was not a love em' and leave em' type of guy though, he didn't play with feelings or give false hope. His intentions were always clear. But that didn't stop the girls from trying to be the one to make him commit to something serious.

Except Nolan hadn't been serious about any relationship since he'd proposed to Sarah Cameron when he was in the sixth grade.

"I invited the guys over to practice later," he told her. "Other than that, nothing."

Nolan had been the front man of his bad since the eighth grade. He was now going into his senior year. And they'd finally started to pick up a lot of traction. People outside of North Carolina was finally starting to know their name and recognize their songs and praise their talent. Nova couldn't be happier for her brother.

But as his sister she could see his internal struggle. He was going to be a Senior come August. There wasn't much time for him to be indecisive about his future. He was the oldest Scott. If tradition had any say, he'd start being groomed to one day take his father's company, the one that his father gave him before that. The Scott's have had money for longer than America has been a country. And it has managed to remain ran by Scott legacies, an heir.

Nolan was the business type though. And they all knew that. Even Lincoln, who was always there to praise his son's musical ability, and encourage him to do whatever it was that he wanted.

Nova knew what Nolan wanted. He wanted to leave. To be somewhere far from this island. But she feared he never would. She feared he'd force himself into a college mold that he didn't fit so that he could stay close, for Nova's sake. Because if he wasn't here to help take care of his little sister, he'd blame himself for anything that might happen to her.

"I'm not sure. Probably sleep for a little bit since Ward Cameron thinks it normal to wake up with the sun," Nova scoffed. "I'll probably go shopping later. Maybe go out to get something to eat. The day is young, Nolan, anything is possible."

Nolan laughed at his sister's forced optimism.

Nova was elated to escape to her room. Having been away from it for almost a week. Nova's bedroom was her favorite room in the house. Her sanctuary. It belonged to only her. And there was no hesitation as she leaped onto the mountain of pillows that piled high on the head of her bed.

The bedroom had gone through many changes. It grew through phases of life with Nova. It always matched how she felt during a period of time. The room had initially been painted a soft lilac, decorated with twinkling lights, when it was first made into a nursery. That lasted until she hit middle school age and everything had to be neon and vibrant. It had to be shown off. So, her walls had been painted a hot pink when she was ten-years-old. Of course, by fourteen she'd grown out of the neon fad and her walls were painted white with light grey stripes running down them. She'd gotten a new bed as well. A plush, teal bed frame was pushed back against the wall in the center of the room, on top of a grey area rug. The room had been accented with gold pieces. Golden, steel chairs, golden-framed mirrors. And the bed had been adorned with blush pink sheets and duvet.

The room had grown with Nova. It had changed with Nova.

Nova wasted hours on her bed. Scrolling through her phone, switching between apps every few minutes. Dr. Phil played as background noise on the television set across from her. At times she'd find herself entrapped with the drama on the screen. But it was never interesting enough to keep her attention for long.

She'd ended up asleep. Not knowing when it happened, but her phone was still laying on her hand and the tv was still on. The sun had lowered in the sky, casting a dark orange over the sky and spilling onto the white, wood floors.

Nova sat up, rubbing her tired eyes, her stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning.

She showered quickly in an attempt to help reenergize herself. It worked a little. She redressed in a pair of high-waisted cotton shorts and white tube top. Her stomach grumbled again as she walked out of her bedroom, making sure to grab her purse on the way out.

Nova could hear her brother and his bandmates all the way from the foyer. It sounded like they were practicing out back. They rarely ever practiced in the music room, which would be the place any sane band would practice, considering the sound proof walls. But no, they'd retired by the pool. Even an entire drum set had been carried out there.

She didn't bother telling her brother bye. He'd end up texting her later if he was worried. And she wasn't planning on going far. Nova was craving tacos, specific tacos, from the pier down the road. It was walking distance, and she needed the exercise, and the fresh air.

The walk to the end of her driveway was nearly the same walking distance to the pier that sold her favorite tacos. It was littered with tourists, as expected. Families stopped in front of the banisters to peer over at the deep waters. Men, mostly bald, casting fishing lines at the end, hoping for a big catch, and mothers photographed their kids wearing the OBX bucket hats that are often overpriced at the souvenir shops.

But it was summer. Prime tourist time. It's when the island made most of their money. It's what kept the taco stand in business, besides Nova's weekly purchases.

Nova had just stepped onto the wooden pier when her phone sounded from inside her bag. A text, she figured would be from Nolan, asking for something to eat himself.

It wasn't Nolan, though. When she unlocked her phone, Sarah's name flashed across the top of the screen. Of course, Nova opened it.

Sarah: What's going on with you and John B? Wheezie heard you guys talking this morning. I can't believe you didn't tell me about the scuba gear!

Nova's stomach knotted. Dammit, of course it was Wheezie who'd been listening in. And of course, she'd tell. But the biggest fraction of her attention was stuck on Sarah's first question. What was going on between her and John B? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Why would Sarah thing something was going on, anyway? Because Wheezie said so? That source was questionable at best.

She didn't bother responding to Sarah. Instead, she locked her phone, intending to message her later, after she's had her tacos. Nova was too hungry to try and explain what happened this morning. And there was still a part of her that was trying to answer that very question. What exactly had happened this morning?

The shop was one of the last on the pier. The tacos stand was in the back, hidden behind the rows and racks of overpriced souvenirs. It seemed sketchy, to sell tacos in a souvenir shop, but Nova had been desperate one day, and they'd smelt like heaven. So, she gave in and ordered, from then she's been stuck on this place.

Nova didn't have to order. As soon as the middle-aged man behind the counter noticed her walk into the small shop, he yelled her order to the kitchen through the small window behind him. He smiled, greeting Nova while filling her cup full of peach lemonade.

The order took all of ten minutes. All that was left was for Nova to pay, which she did with a one-hundred-dollar bill, for about a seventeen-dollar order. The rest of the cash she left in the tip jar, thanking the worker behind the desk one last time before seeing her way out of the shop.

The to-go bags smelt like heaven. She had to resist the urge to find a bench and start eating there, but she'd got Nolan food too, and didn't want it to get cold.

The text from Sarah lingered heavily on Nova's mind as she made her way back down the pier, dodging the clumsy tourists who bumped into her every other second. She tightened her grip on her drink and the food, careful not to drop it.

When she finally neared the end of the pier another body ran into hers. Harsher than before. Almost making her drop a bag of fried tacos onto dirty boards. She'd assumed it was just another tourist in a hurry to get to their next destination, but when she spun around to finally tell them to watch where they were going, she faced, once again, John B. Routledge.

It was like she couldn't escape him.

"Shit, John B, I'm sorry," Nova was quick to apologize, even though he had been the one to bump into her.

But she wasn't really paying attention either. She was still reeling over Sarah thinking something between her and John B. was going on.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Nova scoffed, "Wow, really? Not even a hello?"

John B. was angry. His hands had been balled up into fists at his side and face red. Nova was sure if she looked closely enough, she'd see smoke coming from his ears. He stepped toward, closing in, only about two inches stood between them. She could feel his breath. And she hadn't noticed just how tall her was. Right now, it felt like he was towering over her.

Nova's eyes widened as her gaze lifted to him. Her eyebrows furrowed, wondering why it was her he'd decided to turn his anger to. Was it because she'd bumped into him just now?

"Your secret is safe with me? Really?" He was yelling.

Suddenly the light in her head switched on, "Look, I didn't say anything. I swear."

"Then explain to me why I was just fired?"

"I don't ─ I don't know, not unless..." Nova sighed, her shoulders dropped. "Sarah must have told her dad."

John B. nodded, his movement was full of disdain for her, "Oh yeah, and I wonder how Sarah found out? You just couldn't keep one thing to yourself!"

John B. was assuming she'd been the one to tell Sarah. But the text on her phone would prove her innocent. There was no way she was pulling that out to show him though.

"And I know it's hard for someone like you to imagine, but some people need a job, Nova, so that they can eat!"

He looked down at the large takeout bag in her hand, and the lemonade in the other. Angrily he slapped the bag out of her hand, likely spilling some of the tacos that had been packed in there.

"Dude, what the fuck?" asked Nova.

She hadn't even done anything wrong. And he was taking it out on her tacos. He should be yelling at Ward Cameron.

"You know, I was wrong about you," John B. pointed a finger, it grazed the tip of her nose when she looked up at him. Slowly, he began to back away. "You're exactly who people say you are, Nova Scott!"

"John B, I didn't even do anything!" she made one last attempt to defend herself, but he didn't want to hear it.

John B. turned his back on Nova who'd bent down to pick up her bag, hoping the majority of the food had survived the fall from her grasp. He'd disappeared into the crowd when she stood back up. Unwilling to try and hear her side of things.

Nova couldn't help but feel bad though. He'd lost his job. One that he needed. Especially now that he was on his own. His dad missing, presumed dead, and his mom walked out on him years ago. This was one thing that helped keep him afloat, and now it was gone.  

She walked the rest of the way home hungry and upset. When nearing her gate, Nova texted Nolan to buzz her inside, seconds later she learned he'd gone to their grandparents' house. With a huff Nova stomped further down the street. They didn't live far, about half a mile away further down the road.

Nova didn't so much as knock on the door when she entered the large home. She kicked her shoes off by the door before stepping onto the carpeted flooring. Knowing that if she didn't her Lovey would give her a scolding, she's heard a million times before.

Already she heard the speakers of a record player spinning something that came from the fifties or sixties. This was how her Papa spent all his evenings. Sitting in the lounge room with his record on the highest volume while reading the paper. Her Lovey would be sitting with him. Either sewing another scarf or watching a new tv show in her tablet with headphones in. Though the old, married couple had different interests, they were insistent on spending their evenings together, and ending the day happy.

Nova dreamed to have a love like theirs.

"Nova," a gasp sounded as she crossed the foyer. Her Lovey had stood from the well-fluffed couch cushions and hurried to embrace her granddaughter. "I wasn't expecting you. What a great surprise!"

It never failed; every time her grandmother came into view Nova would see her mom. The sight never stemmed from a resemblance. If Nova wanted to look at a face that resembled her mother, she'd look at her grandad, or even in a mirror. Nova's mom had exuded the same energy as her Lovey does now.

The never-ending love. The warmth that she carried with her always. It wrapped Nova up like a blanket. Made her feel safe. Nova felt her mother wherever she went, but always more when she was with her Lovey.

"I brought your food," sighed Nova, tossing the bags onto the coffee table in front of the couch when she noticed her older brother sitting on a decorative chair beside their Grandad. "Don't mind the spilled tacos."

Nolan didn't hesitate before ripping into the bag of food that had probably gone cold by now.

"Honey..." whispered her Lovey. She turned Nova's head to face her and cupped her cheeks with her warm hands. "What is the matter. You sound tired. Have you not been sleeping?"

"Are you kidding? She slept through most of the day," Nolan was quickly shushed by his Lovey.

Nova sighed, turning away from her Lovey and walking over to the couch and falling into it. She leaned her head back so that she was looking at the white ceiling, supporting the heavy chandelier that swung over the glass coffee table.

"I'm just not having a good day," she told them.

A blackberry cobbler had been placed on the coffee table. Nova smelt it as soon as she walked in. That was another one of her Lovey's many talents, baking. She watched as her Lovey cut a square out and plated it onto a saucer. Carefully she placed the sweet treat on Nova's lap.

"What's the matter, darling?"

Nova cut into it with her fork immediately, "There's this boy..."

Her Lovey clapped excitedly, "Oh!"

"Try not to sound too excited, Penny," her Grandad grumbled, hiding behind his newspaper.

Penny swatted her husband's knee playfully, "Don't be so bitter, Max!"

Max Hart rolled his eyes before folding his paper back up and carefully laying it across his lap, his red reading glasses rested on the bridge of his nose as he peered over them and at Nova, grey eyebrows raised high, "Well, go on then. I want to know more about this... boy."

"John B. Routledge to be more specific."

Nova chewed the tasty cobbler angrily as she thought about the misfit boy.

"John B..." Max whispered the name given to him by his granddaughter, testing the familiarity of it. "John B... The Routledge boy?"

"That's the one," Nova's tone sounded monotonous.

"Oh, he's a good boy. Bright too I hear. Had tough upbringing but that's not his fault."

Nova's Lovey nodded from beside her, agreeing. Their likeness of the boy wasn't helping Nova's case at all.

"What the hell has John B. Routledge got to do with anything?" Nolan, who'd been too focused on his tacos finally voiced.

A glare was sent across the coffee table by Penny Hart. Nolan had talked with his mouth full of food, breaking the house's manner code. Quickly, Nolan apologized and swallowed the food in his mouth before turning back to Nova. Awaiting an answer.

"Nothing is gone on," said Nova, becoming defensive. "He's just ─ He's just a butthead, okay?"

There were a few other words on Nova's tongue that she'd wanted to use to describe John B. Routledge, but she knew better when under her grandparents' roof.

"Okay, so what did this butthead do to get you so riled up?" her Grandad asked.

Her Lovey gasped, bouncing in her seat, "Oh Maxy, maybe Nova likes him!"

Nova's eyes widened.

"No, she doesn't," Nolan said before Nova had the chance to open her mouth.

She glared at her older brother, but all the while agreed, "Nolan's right, I do not like him, in fact, I loathe him. He is the most annoying jerk I've ever met."

And for the remainder of the night, Nova spent it telling her grandparents about how John B. Routledge has become the bane of her existence.  

☼

V I S U A L S

nova's house & room

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an://

Chapter two! The reintroduction of this story.

So far, how're you all liking the edited writing? Let me know.

edited: 12/06/2021