𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 27.

━ 𝘃𝗹𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗮𝗹.

"𝐇𝐄𝐘! 𝐄𝐗𝐂𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐑, are you— are you sold out?"

A strong sense of recognition enveloped my body when the three of us ran onto the main ports, towards the ticket booth, for the Ferry. The familiar suffocating scent of fish and salt, stale food, and body door wafted through my nose, making my head spin— just like the first time I'd faced myself with all the angry fisherman on my first arrival. I looked at the exact spot that I had gotten off the Ferry. Where I had gotten my first look at the island overhead.

It sent a feeling of bewilderment into my stomach, the fact that I once stood there, looking ahead to the place I'd spend my next year. The girl who had gotten off of that Ferry ride had no idea that she'd be galavanting around with the island's Princess and a boy who had no common sense— whom both, she now called her friends— for a secret mission. When I had stepped off that boat, I wasn't looking forward to the next year, I was only excited for the beach. I was Charlotte Collins. Now— I suppose I was just Charlie.

While we ran towards the booth, my hair flowing behind me, a thought occurred as I stared at the back of John B's head. My stomach turned. If I hadn't met him, I would have most likely been at home, sitting with my grandparents, with no idea of rivalries and Kooks and Pogues. I wouldn't have gone to the motel, been chased by square groupers, ran from the cops, stargazed in the middle of the night— all in my first week. I wouldn't be running through the fog, my shoes making thuds on the grounds of the port, if I simply liked the taste of Cherry Cola.

"You're not the only one trying to leave the island," the ticket man chuckled mockingly, while strapping his backpack over his shoulders. The wide man turned away without another word, and walked in another direction.

John B cursed and leant his hands on the wooden booth, gently face planting his head with defeat.

"Well shit," I huffed sarcastically, out of breath from running to the port so quickly. I was stopped beside him, my hands on my hips, and Sarah stood next to me.

"Um," Sarah looked around.

"What do we do now," I said, with a light tone, looking at John B.

His eyes were squinted as he trailed them around the area, not speaking. After a long second, my chest heaving in and out at an unsteady pace, he lifted his hand up and pointed a finger out in the distance quickly, a look of realization painted over his face.

"I have an idea—" he said with fast words, while reaching down for my wrist in a rough motion, "follow me."

As some sort of reflex, I reached over for Sarah's arm, interlocking ours together right before John B began to pull me with him. I dragged her along, and he guided the two of us us past workers carrying crates of fish, the salty aroma of it burning my nose.

"Hey, have you guys ever been on a tugboat?" He glanced over to Sarah and me walking fast beside him. There was a sly smirk on his lips. He wasn't holding my wrist anymore, and so I slowly let go of Sarah's arm.

"A what?" My eyebrows narrowed.

"You're not serious," Sarah looked over my head at him, and spoke with a tone of slight disbelief.

"Hey, what's a tugboat?" I persevered.

"Look— we just gotta talk our way onto this barge," John B answered her, ignoring me.

"Tugboat," I narrowed my eyebrows.

We turned a corner, newly faced with many more people, the long dock filled with tall crates of items and wooden planks everywhere. The strong smell was worse closer to the water. Tourists walked around mindlessly, men wearing military uniforms, and others wearing neon yellow vests and baseball caps.

"I got this," John B shrugged, with an air of confidence. "These are my people."

Sarah stopped walking as John B advanced, breaking away from us, so I halted beside her. I looked past John who was quickly skipping up to a man holding a clipboard, over his head at the enormous boat in front of us at a distance.

"We're going on that thing?" I asked Sarah without looking to her, my eyes glued on the large boat, with workers constantly trudging in and out of the entrance with crates and boxes.

"Apparently," Sarah crossed her arms over her deep yellow tube top, as she watched John B try and persuade his way with the captain. "Do you think that'll work?"

"No," I said with a grimace, accidentally inhaling the musty scent in the air.

Before she could reply, John B was coming back in our direction, approaching us with his hands gripped on the straps of his backpack.

"So?" Sarah asked him when he got close enough.

"So..." John B repeated, with a tone of voice that indicated something wasn't good. He shifted gazes between the two of us standing next to one another. "They're booked."

"Who?" Sarah spoke.

"I thought they were your people," my arms crossed over my chest, and I rolled my eyes.

John B rubbed a hand over his forehead stressfully, eyes closed in a hard blink. "He told me— there was no more room," another long sigh.

"That's wonderful," Sarah grinned an annoyed, tight smile.

I let my eyes trail away from him, and down to the railing of the dock on my left side. The first thing I noticed was a few stray yellow raincoats hanging over the posts.

"What? You got a better idea?" He retorted chaotically, with an equally annoyed and sarcastic tone to his words.

The two of them began to argue, and I didn't feel like listening, figuring that they could find a different way to Chapel Hill while I turned to the side and stepped away from them. My hands gripped onto one of the yellow raincoats.

"What are you doing, Charlie?" Sarah called after me with confusion. I guessed they had both somehow noticed my absence during their bickering.

"Who just leaves raincoats hanging around like this," A small laugh fell past my lips, in hopes of lightening the mood. "I mean, are they for the workers?" I held up two of the three raincoats that were on the railings, examining them randomly.

"That is so irrelevant right now," John B scoffed.

"Wait—" Sarah's face lit up with a look of realization, "I have an idea,"

"I've never owned a raincoat before," I was still holding one up, looking down at it with a foolish sense of admiration.

Sarah quickly grabbed the other one from my grasp. "Charlie, you're a genius," she was grinning from ear to ear as she let her small bag fall from her shoulders, before sliding her arms through the sleeves.

"What do you mean," my eyebrows narrowed. "I guess— it does look kinda like it's gonna rain,"

"Oh my god," John B had a large smile over his lips as well, when he caught onto what Sarah was doing, after taking a glance at the people on the docks. He took a strong step towards me, reaching behind my back to grab the last raincoat, bringing it towards him. I was staring at the two with confusion, as he then took off his own backpack like Sarah did.

"Put that on," John B ordered, looking down at the coat laying in my hands.

"What?" I squinted my eyes at him, eyebrows knitted together.

"Put the raincoat on," he muttered, while quickly slipping his arms into the sleeves of his own.

"Why?" I looked between him and Sarah warily.

"Just put the frickin' coat on, Charlie!" He shouted in a low volume, with wide eyes.

"Okay!" I scolded him back, with eyes as equally wide. "Alright!" I grabbed the raincoat with both hands, quickly draping it over my back, shoved both arms in, and cloaked the hood over my head like they were doing.

Next thing I knew, they grabbing a tank and lowering their hooded-heads around a bend. I stayed close behind John B, and I was holding a crate instead, stepping down into the cargo entrance of the large boat. He rushed past Sarah when they put their tanks down, and I was last to step down the stairs after dropping my stupid crate of nothing, their steps echoing on the metal.

We heard a man shout from somewhere else above deck. "Gotta go down into the engine room!"

I cussed under my breath and trudged further.

I was breathing unsteadily as they ripped open a big metal door, revealing another hall, but lit up with red lights. Sarah swooped into the room and ran to the end, and John B waited for me at the open door. His hand was on my lower back as I passed him, frantically pushing me inside to make sure I was safe and out of sight. All that was heard after that was the loud voices of men on deck, and all of our uneven breaths.

As I stopped to stand beside Sarah, John B stopping on my other side, the boat suddenly shook. It was a violent shake, enough for us to loose balance. As if it were a reflex, my one arm wrapped around John B's neck to keep steady, his own hands trailing around my waist, and my other arm reached out to Sarah who gripped a shelf for support. There were a few gasps.

"Yeah— um," Sarah was looking at John B and I holding each other, once the boat was steady, "I'm having a hard time believing there's nothing going on there," with a sly smirk, she pointed to the both of us.

I fake-coughed, and only looked to him for a split second, our faces being inches apart, before letting go. He cleared his throat.

"Guys, we're moving," John B noticed, after a long and awkward second.

"Holy shit," Sarah breathed out, a relieved and happy look rising to her face.

I fully pulled away from John B, and looked around the room slightly wide eyes, my mouth agape. My stomach began to settled with an odd feeling from the red lights, while I made my way into a much more open space. I heard their steps following me.

"Holy fuck, it's hot in here," John B muttered, and then let out a long sigh as he rushed past me. I breathed in his scent, before he took off his backpack and sat himself on a low metal cabinet.

"Jesus," Sarah huffed, from behind me.

We hadn't even been in the engine room for more than two minutes, but I was already starting to feel my forehead drip with sweat. A long breath of air left my mouth as I took off the yellow raincoat, dropping it on the floor before crouching down to sit on top of it, leaning my back against the cabinet. My shoulder was pressed up against the bottom of John B's leg.

"This is torture," John B heaved, annoyance in his tone.

"It was your idea, idiot." I rebutted.

Sarah sat down on the metal cabinet above me, her legs crossing on top of it.

"Actually, it wasn't," he claimed. "I was going to ask if we could get a ride on top. This was Sarah's idea."

"Can we please not argue," She sighed out with annoyance.

It was quiet for a long moment, as I leant my head on the rim of the metal cabinet that they were sitting on, my eyes closed in a hard blink. Beads of sweat dripped from my cheeks. A shuffle was heard coming from above me, followed by a few short pants, and I felt Sarah suddenly nudge my shoulder with her knee. I turned my head up and around to see John B pulling off his shirt, which revealed his toned stomach and bare skin, and a small giggle left Sarah's mouth when I quickly whipped my head back into place, feeling awkward that I had looked. He didn't mind, though, he was to busy sweating.

"Do you guys wanna, like, I don't know," Sarah's words were cut short by heavy breaths, "wanna play a game— or something."

"No." John B quickly replied without hesitation.

"Cool." She said. "So there's game that my sister and I play, truth or dare, except there's no dare."

I ran my hands through my hair, feeling my throat dry up.

"So, then, just truth." He scoffed.

"Sure, I'll play," I whispered with a quiet tone.

"I'll go first," she said. "What did you guys see in the painting?"

"Straight shooter," I laughed, a very light laugh, at the quick question.

John B sighed disapprovingly, "Look— we can't tell you, okay?"

"Why not?" She quickly answered back.

"It's for your own safety, Sarah," I said calmly.

"Well something made you wanna go to the archives, obviously!" She spoke to both of us.

"Somebody who was supposed to be dead wasn't, alright." John B said quickly, and I could feel that he regretted it instantly.

"That's one way to put it," I tilted my head to the side, popping out my bottom lip.

"You just— can't know, right now." He sighed.

The room fell silent for a long while after that, just the sound of the three of us breathing heavily.

I closed my eyes in a hard blink, so tightly I saw stars. My voice broke the silence. "I really have to pee."

___

"If someone saw you in that, they'd roast the shit out of you." Sarah giggled.

She was talking to me as I walked out of the change room wearing a deep blue ruffled-dress, which was about three sizes too big for my body. It fell down to my knees, and the black ribboned heels I had on my feet were too large, making me trip on the way through the door and causing John B, who was sitting on the chair, to chuckle loudly. Sarah was leaning against the top of the large cushion chair, her arms over her chest, and her ankles crossed. They both stared at me like fashion designers.

Once we had gotten off of the tugboat— ran off the docks and into town like idiots, scrambling past people, all three of us laughing hysterically— Sarah had claimed that we needed fresh outfits. She insisted that we wouldn't get in to the archives looking how we did, which, at the time, had caused me to look down at my stained denim jeans, and my green tank top drenched with sweat. John B's shirt still had blood on the bottom of it, and Sarah's white pants were stained filthy brown.

After we had roamed the town for a few moments, she had taken us into an expensive boutique, every item inside being well over a hundred dollars. While they were talking to the salesman, I had been too busy gawking at our surroundings, at all the rich clothing, and the rich people, all the dresses and shoes. I had told Sarah that I didn't have any money to buy something— but she told the two of us that she'd be our 'sugar mommy' and we didn't need to repay her. John B had claimed that he wasn't fit to shop there, and after seeing him try on a few outfits—picked out by Sarah and me— I began to see what he meant.

I had been slouching in the one chair, which was far too comfortable not to sit in, while John B had travelled in and out of the fitting room, wearing the outfits we had picked out for him. It was fun— picking out things for him to wear, watching his own little fashion show, only for us to laugh at the appearance and for him to deny the outfit, and try the next thing on. I had been sitting in the armchair, while Sarah and I critiqued each accoutre, as if it meant something. He ended up settling a deal on a pale-blue striped tuxedo, with a pink button-up underneath. He looked out of place, but looked good.

Then, it was Sarah's turn, since John B claimed he wanted a try at styling her in return. The two of us walked around the store like idiots, laughing at some of the outrageous clothing, making fun of the rich people who stared at us weirdly, and getting each other's opinions on what would look best for her. At the end of it, we had picked out a numerous amount of dresses for Sarah to try on. John B sat in the chair, and I leant my hand on his shoulder, while we critiqued each attire. She ended up wearing a flattering white-and-grey striped material dress.

And now, it was my turn. The two of them had picked out numerous things that I could've never seen myself wearing, but I tried them on regardless, and stepped in and out of the fitting room to display my looks to my stylists. They critiqued, sometimes laughing at the outrageous fashion choices, and other times trying to decide if the outfits were worthy enough. A grimace was on my face with every dress as I stepped out, some of them being too tight and outlining my not-so-slim figure, and others just not suitable.

"We've got one more," I said with a long sigh.

John B was covering his mouth, to refrain from bursting out into laughter at the awful ruffled dress. Sarah was foolishly examining me from head to toe, like a designer would do, her finger tapping her chin a few times.

"I think it looks great," she said with a smile, "you just need a smaller size," she then glanced to John B with an angry look, who had picked out the dress himself.

"I look like big bird from Sesame Street." I said with a frown, glaring at both of them for the poor choice, before turning away. "Except blue."

"Last one's always a charm," John B gave me a thumbs up right before I shut the door, a cheesy grin on his lips.

While grabbing the last dress, I heard Sarah and John B discussing possible names for secret identities. The last outfit was a fairly nice, baby-pink, flow-y dress, with the smallest of frills at the end, and reaching just about my knees. It had a low neck, which revealed a little bit of my chest, and Sarah had placed small white wedged-heels beside the dress before I went inside, so I put them on. I found myself admiring the way the outfit looked. I slowly opened the door.

"Wow, Valentina," Sarah's mouth opened in awe when she saw me.

"Who the fuck is Valentina," My eyebrows narrowed slightly, as I turned to look in the main mirror in front of them.

"It's your new identity," Sarah answered with a grin, and I looked at her through the reflection. "I'm Valerie from Quebec, John is now Vlad from Vienna, and you're Valentina from Rome."

"How does this look." I didn't mind the fake identity, as I turned around to face them.

Sarah smacked John B when he didn't answer. He was too busy staring at me with departed lips, looking at me from head to toe.

"You look—" he stumbled out, swallowing. "Um. You look amazing, Charlie— or Valentina."

My face turned as pink as my dress, and I lightly bit down on the inside of my cheek, smiling softly with a small giggle.

"You've got a way with words, Vlad." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"I think we've got a winner," I said, looking down at my body in the flattering dress.

"You look very stunning, Miss Tina," Sarah laughed at the short nickname, and then stood up straight, no longer leaning against the arm chair.

"Thank you, Val," I did a small curtsy, smiling foolishly at her. John B was still staring at me, that same, meaningful look again.

Sarah patted the top of his head with a strong hand, then grabbed her bag, smiling at us. "Now, my Vlad and Val, to the archives we go."

༄

𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 !!