If there was something JJ Maybank hated more than Kooks, it had to be relying on people. Admitting when he needed help, even it was just a little bit.

Call it an ego thing, but really, it was more of some sort of proof. Proof that he wasn't relying on other people for his shitty mistakes, just like his dad. Or, more specifically, proof that he wasn't his dad.

So, when JJ was tossed into a jail cell after taking the fall for Pope, he didn't bother to call anyone. It wasn't the Pogues' job to bail him out, not when he was doing this to protect them. Nah, this was his problem. He'd figure it out.

Or, he was going to, before Shoupe was unlocking his cell.

"Ride's here." He gruffly announced, staring down at JJ with disinterest. He hesitated, knowing full well who was waiting for him outside. Running through his options a million different times, he came to the same damn outcome every single time.

His dad.

Fuck it, he could take a few hits. That was nothing. As long as he wasn't making his friends pick up his mess, he was cool.

Even still, JJ's heart pounded anxiously as Shoupe escorted him to the door.

As soon as he stepped out, he expected to hear a harsh call of his name. Or, even better, his dad's face. Hell, a firm push towards the car. Anything, really.

But, there you stood instead. Designated Pogue sweetheart. Best friend since 2nd grade. Beach bombshell wrapped up in old surf shirts and thrifted bikinis. The one girl JJ loved forever, yet forbid himself from ever having.

You looked almost sickly with worry, inhaling sharply when JJ stepped out. God, he felt like an asshole.

If there was anyone that he really didn't want to rely on, it was you. It was supposed to be the other way around; he'd be the one taking care of you, always. He'd promised you that in 2nd grade with a paper ring.

And shit, here you were, bailing him out of fucking jail. Worst dickhead of the year award goes to JJ Maybank!

Swallowing his self hatred, he spoke hoarsely.

"You came."