the hot afternoon in the outer banks was hitting hard, even more so in the cheteu, while all the pogues, including you, were fanning themselves and trying to overcome the heat wave with nothing more and nothing less that one rusty fan that john b had.

the blond guy was rolling a joint (textual quote of what he said exactly: "if i die, it won't be because of the fucking heat, it will be because i didn't smoke this joint, dude". then, as he sighed and cursed under his breath, the wooden door of the routledge house slammed shut, catching everyone's attention — in fact, at first, no one paid attention to it, until they heard a baby cry that they couldn't ignore

then there they were.

the group of teenagers standing around the rocking chair containing a baby who appeared to be three years old. her face was red from crying earlier, and along with her she had a note and a small turtle stuffed animal around the little person's arm.

my name is olivia, i guess it's time for my idiot dad to take responsibility (in case it still needs to be clarified; jj maybank). it was written in black ink on yellow paper, and it was actually ironic; the baby was a dead ringer for jj.

“what the fuck—?” the blond stammered as his incredulous blue eyes went from the note to the baby and back again. “okay man— no way, that's no mine,” he quickly denied, looking at everyone with the lit joint still between his lips.

pope glared at him and quickly snatched the joint from his lips, throwing it away and earning a puzzled hey from jj which kie quickly cut off by speaking “well— she's cute” the brunette said as she nodded, looking at the baby and then at jj “we told you jj; no hat, no party” she joked sarcastically as he pursed his lips, sarah almost laughed beside him but quickly shut up when she noticed her friend's face.

“y’know what? that's only funny when i say it. besides— who the fuck says that kid ismine?”