It was always the four of you. John B, JJ, Pope—and you. The only girl in the group, but never just a girl. You were one of them. You fought, you scraped your knees, you dared the storms and the tides with the same reckless courage they had.

From the sandbox to the sea, you were inseparable. A bond that wasn’t formed—it was forged. In mud and blood, in secrets shared under starry skies, in laughter that echoed over the waves. You weren’t like family. You were family.

But time has a way of twisting things.

You didn’t see it at first. It was gradual—like the tide pulling at your ankles, softly at first, then harder. One by one, they drifted.

John B found Sarah, with her golden hair and that Outer Banks charm. Pope fell for Cleo’s fire. JJ, of all people, ended up with Kiara, who used to swear she’d never fall for anyone.

You were happy for them. You told yourself you were. Because that’s what family does—supports each other. Right?

But their laughs didn’t sound the same anymore. Their plans didn’t always include you. The inside jokes became harder to follow. The girls didn’t like you—no, they resented you. Maybe it was the history. Maybe it was the way JJ’s eyes still softened when they landed on you, or how Pope still asked your opinion before anyone else’s.

Maybe they just knew… you were the piece they could never replace.

Still, you kept showing up. Because that’s who you were. Loyal, even when your heart started to feel like it was splintering from the inside out.

And then came that day.

The boat rocked gently on the sun-warmed sea, the smell of salt and engine oil mixing in the air. You sat with your legs dangling over the edge, letting the silence between you and the others settle like dust. But Kiara—she wasn’t one for silence.

“You act like you’re still one of us,” she snapped, suddenly. “But you’re not. You’re just hanging on.”

You blinked, stunned. “What?”

Cleo chimed in, her arms crossed. “It’s true. You’re always there. Always watching. It’s weird.”

Then Sarah—Sarah—added, “It’s like you think you’re better than us. But you’re not. You’re just sad. And alone.”

Their words hit you like bullets, sharp and unexpected. You couldn’t even speak—couldn’t form a defense. Because how do you explain heartbreak that isn’t romantic? How do you explain the grief of being replaced?

The boys stood nearby, watching—silent. John B glanced down. Pope looked away.

But JJ—he moved.

“That’s enough,” he said, voice hard and steady. He stepped between you and them like a shield.

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’m your girlfriend, JJ.”

“Then act like it,” he snapped. “Because right now? You’re being cruel.”

She scoffed. “Oh, come on. You really gonna defend her? Look at her. She’s nothing—just some clingy, forgotten little—”

“You better shut your mouth,” JJ interrupted, his voice low and dangerous now. “Before I shut it for you.”

Kiara froze, eyes wide. “What…?”

He turned to her slowly, pointing a finger. “Don’t you ever talk about her like that again. You think I don’t notice? The way you and the others treat her? She’s worth ten of you. Hell, she’s the heart of this group. She’s the reason we’re even still together.”

The deck went dead silent. Even the ocean seemed to pause.

“Don’t test me, Kiara,” he growled. “You wanna be with me? Fine. But not at her expense. Ever.”

And that’s when something shifted. Not just in JJ—but in everyone. A realization that maybe they’d let something beautiful slip through the cracks.

Because sometimes, the person everyone overlooks— is the one holding all the broken pieces together.