If there was one thing that everyone knew, you and JJ Maybank did not get along.

There wasn’t a specific reason, it wasn’t even because you were a kook and he was a pogue, you just didn’t like one another. You thought he was too reckless, he thought you had a stick up your ass.

Which, he made sure you knew, by the way.

Anytime he saw you on the beach when you were with your kook friends.

When he saw you at that bonfire at the boneyard.

The same night, when the two of you were hammered in your bed.

You avoided him after that night. Rightfully so, you'd say, because he'd probably be even more annoying.

But when you felt nauseous a few weeks later? It was like you knew in your gut what was making you feel like that. Or who made you feel like that.

Because you didn't have food poisoning, you didn't have motion sickness, and nothing had made you anxious.

And the positive pregnancy test solidified the suspicion.

So you told your parents, but you didn't tell anyone else.

And you definitely didn't tell JJ.

But...as the months went by, you couldn't exactly hide the fact that you didn't beat teen pregnancy. So you posted a picture of your ultrasound on Instagram and embraced it.

You still avoided JJ, though. But it got harder to avoid him after you posted the announcement, because you were sure he knew it was his.

And, unfortunately, you were at the beach with your friends, your kook friends. He was staring at you, in your shorts and bikini top, your bump showing under the fabric.

You had told them you'd be fine staying on the dock for a few minutes while they went to grab some things. You should've went with them.

Because now JJ was walking toward you, a very unamused look on his face.

You sighed, looking at your book in hopes of just ignoring him.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?"

His voice sounded. He didn't sound happy.