????????? | JJ Maybank

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore filled the gaps in Forty's words, but Dove wasn't really listening. She nodded along, her eyes drifting back to the blanket where the Pogues sat laughing around the keg. JJ was gesturing wildly, his grin broad, while Kiara leaned back, shaking her head at something ridiculous he'd said. Even Pope, usually glued to his homework, looked relaxed as he added his own quips to the conversation.

Dove's chest tightened. That's where she wanted to be—where she belonged.

"You've got to admit," Forty said, his voice pulling her back, "the waves have been amazing this summer."

"Yeah," Dove replied absently, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"You should come out with me some time," Forty continued, his tone casual but loaded with intent. "Teach me a thing or two. I mean, you're basically a legend out there."

Dove turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "A legend?"

"Yeah," Forty said, grinning. "Everyone knows about Wren Dalles, queen of the Cut. Those competitions you used to win? People still talk about them."

Dove's stomach twisted at her name nobody called her except for her parents and the life she used to live, before her parents succumbed to the call of addiction. She hadn't competed in years, not since her parents had dismantled that dream piece by piece. The reminders stung, but she forced a smile. "That was a long time ago."

"Doesn't mean you lost it," Forty said, stepping closer. "You probably still crush it out there. Come on, let's surf sometime. Just us. You can show me how it's done."

The grin on his face was confident, but Dove's smile faltered, instantly recognising what this chat was really about. Her hands fidgeted with the waist band of her shorts as she took a step back. "Look, Forty... I like you. I really do."

His grin widened, and Dove cringed inwardly. "But," she continued, holding up a hand, "I like you as a friend."

The words hung awkwardly between them, and Dove winced at how much they sounded like a line from a bad rom-com. She really wasn't good with this kind of stuff.

"Oh," Forty said, his grin fading slightly. "Right. Yeah, no, I get it. Totally. I just thought..."

"Good," Dove said, nodding too quickly, cutting him off. "Glad we're on the same page."

The sound of the Pogues' laughter floated over to them, breaking the tension. Dove glanced back toward the blanket, relief washing over her. "I should, uh, get back to them. But I'll see you around, okay?"

"Yeah," Forty said, rubbing the back of his neck. "See you."

Dove walked away as fast as she could without running, her face burning with embarrassment. She could still feel the awkwardness lingering like a shadow, but the moment she reached the blanket and dropped down beside JJ, she felt some of the tension ease.

"Told you so," John B said smugly, leaning back on his hands.

"Shut up," Dove muttered, rolling her eyes.

JJ didn't look at her right away, his focus on the edge of the blanket he was absentmindedly picking at. After a moment, he pulled a joint from his pocket, lighting it with practiced ease.

"What's wrong with you?" Dove asked, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

"Nothing," JJ said, exhaling a cloud of smoke before glancing at her. His lips curved into a teasing grin. "And something."

Dove rolled her eyes again, grabbing the joint from his fingers and taking a quick drag. "You're insufferable."

"You love it," JJ replied, his grin widening.