Chapter Text
Kook fucking year. That’s what they’d been calling it. She’d heard it that one day. Kiara was stapling flyers of the wrecks newest events round the corner shops. She started in the cut, selfishly hoping she’d see them because maybe, just maybe, there was a small chance they’d take her back. So she slowed down at their usual shop, hanging around even when there were too many flyers strung together.
“You seen this?” It was John B’s voice, even though she couldn’t see him, she knew. Kie knew those boys from the inside out, or she used to. “What?” One of them replied, eyes landing on the nearest flyer she’d hung to the slightly moulded cork board. Quietly she skirted the aisle behind, snatching a glance at the backs of their heads. “The wrecks got a new no pogues night.” They weren’t exactly wrong, though it was a buffet for all. All being the people who could pay the entrance fee. “And the kook year scandal continues.” None of them disagreed.
It’s been at least a month since then and the current Kiara was still sitting in the same school, with the same people and dealing with the same shit. “Miss Carrera?” Her head pokes up, eyes wide at the realisation she was daydreaming. “Yeah?”
“The bell rang five minutes ago.”
“Oh.” And with that she left, walking somewhere she was yet to decide.
Turns out letting your feet lead the way isn’t really a thing because the only place Kiara’s took her was in a circle. The school gates were still open, people still gathered round. She knows most of their names and they probably know hers .Yet Kiara was certain they wouldn’t reply to her greetings, or welcome her into their conversation so she kept moving. Only stopping to give a daring glance at Sarah Cameron and even then hovering is a stretch.
When the pavement turns to sand she finally breathes. The air was clear and the world reminded her how big it truly is. “Shit.” Kiara sighs moving closer to the sea. There’s no hesitation when she lets the water swallow her ankles, her converse abandoned a few feet away.
Then, “This is my spot.” She jumps, the quiet broken.
If it was any other time, any other day she would’ve smiled, tried to fix things. At least that’s what she tries to convince herself as she flinches away from the blonde boy standing beside her. “Yeah.” Is all she musters up because he’s not wrong, it was their spot. “Yeah?” Anger edges his voice, like maybe he expected something more, something less.
“Yeah.” Kiara repeats, watching his eyebrows furrow and his fists clench. “M’sorry.” She mumbles before sprinting back towards figure eight, her shoes abandoned and something else lingering.
It’s been a week since then and she’s still shoeless. So the only logical thing to do is go back to wear she lost - left - them, right? Except she has other shoes, some of them still tucked away with receipts unopened awaiting their doomed return. Sarah loved to buy shoes; bags, bikinis and those little pre-threaded bracelets Kiara could easily make herself. She followed suit anyway, making sure she had a receipt or donate pile just in case.
Now, she opts for the sandals her mom insisted she needed. They were plain with a sleek black strap, Kiara couldn’t exactly hate something so simple, though she could probably try. Just not now; she’s got stuff to do. Slipping away was somehow easier now she was at the kook academy. Apparently if try to blend in so much even your parents can miss you. Camouflage has its perks though.
On the walk over her hands dig into her palms leaving crescent marks. It’s one of the many times Kiara wishes she had a board to wrap her arms around. Her board has been the same for years; shiny and turquoise with P4L sewn messily into the leash, just like the other three it stood beside. Unfortunately, it was one of the many things she’d left at the chateau. Oh well, she’s here now. Board-less.
There was a sharp current from the growing breeze, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The kinda weather that brings goosebumps in the shade but still requires shorts in the afternoon light. This time, she keeps her shoes in her hand letting the water reach her knees before admiring the ocean. Her eyes dart for the boy but there was no sign of him nor the converse she loves. After-all she’s come here for the shoes, right?
From the corner of her eye she spots a group of boys, too big to be hers yet she lingers anyway. “You lookin’ for me Carrera?” A familiar voice chimed. “Just my shoes.” She shrugs.
“You’re scratching your arm?” Kiara looks down, he’s right. “So what?”
“You only did that when you lied.” JJ smiles, but it doesn’t reach his dimples let alone his glistening eyes. Everything about this felt wrong: them, the past tense. Especially because she’s still here, alive on this planet, goosebumps tracing her skin. But leaving, as a pogue, means you’re as good as dead.
“You comin’ to get them then?” He yells over the growing crash of waves. “What?” Oh that. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
When she reaches him he’s holding the shoes in this palms, the laces tied in borderline neat bows. JJ rarely ties his own shoes let alone someone else’s . “Thank you.” Kiara whispers, her tanned skin brushing his for a moment too long. “No problem.” The same hand drags through the nape of his neck like it always does. Or used to at least. “And um, Jayj.” The nickname pulls something from him, something she can’t quite place. “I’m sorry.”
“For the shoes?”
“No.” Waves continue to crash, wind continue to blow but neither of them speak.
“I-um, gotta get home.” Kiara’s feet find her sandals and suddenly she is rushing back all over again. Until, “The chateaus in the same place, just so you know.” It was weary, but she grabs it anyway hooking onto the only thing they’ve got right now. Bushy curls fly around her head as she turns from a few feet away giving a stern nod.