John B ²

There's no light in your room, just moonlight filtering through the translucent curtains. You're lying on your bed when you hear a soft knock on the window.

You get up and pull back the curtain. This is John B. He's standing barefoot on the ledge, his T-shirt soaked with dew. He doesn't say anything and just looks at you.

"Are you crazy?" - you whisper, opening the window.

"Are you asleep?" - he asks.

"Not really."

"Can I come in?" - He nods towards the room.

You step back, allowing him to enter. John B. carefully climbs over the windowsill and puts his foot on the floor, as if afraid that the sound of his footsteps will wake up your father. You sit next to each other on the bed.

"Why did you come?" - You ask quietly.

"Because... when you left the engine shed, I felt uneasy. It was as if the air had become heavier. I don't know… I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to be with anyone but you."

You turn your face away so that he doesn't notice how your lips twitch. Then you silently pull back the blanket, lie down and, with an almost imperceptible gesture, invite him to lie down next to you. He fits in without touching you, just next to you. Be silent for a long time, you can only hear your breathing. Then he reaches out and touches your hand. You don't take it away.

Gradually, he presses against your back. You freeze, but you don't move away. That's how you fall asleep. Nothing happens except that for the first time in a long time, you're both at peace.

Morning. The sun's rays break through the blinds, and the room slowly fills with light. John B is still there, sleeping, and his arm is wrapped around your waist.

He's 19, you're 17. You're the half-sister of Sarah and Rafe Cameron. She grew up in the same luxury as Sarah, but with a different outlook on life.

You first met John B by chance — at the boat garage. He was up to his waist in water repairing your father's boat, covered in fuel oil and sea salt. You, annoyed in the morning, asked him "not to drip oil on the tile." He glanced at you from under his forehead and said nothing. From that moment on, you started noticing him. And he, in turn, began to notice how often you "accidentally" turn up next to him. Later, Sarah introduced you to each other more formally.

There's been a spark between you from the very beginning. But this is not a simple flirtation, but a complex and intense chemistry. He's from a world your father hates. You're from a house that represents humiliation to him, and yet he's looking for you.

He doesn't trust you completely—not because you're suspicious, but because you represent the life he's running from. You don't trust him because he's infatuated with your sister Sarah, but he keeps coming to your room when you can't sleep and forgets to leave before dawn.

One night, when he was standing in the rain in the backyard, you came out barefoot and stood next to him. He asked: "Are you going to keep quiet until I snap?" And you answered: "I would have lost it already." And he kissed you. Sharply. Evil. It's wet. And the next morning, you both pretended that nothing had happened.

He feels that you can become "real," so he keeps his distance. It's easier for him to seek adventure than to admit that he wants stability. Your mother abandoned your father, Sarah is the perfect daughter, and you are just a shadow.

You both don't know how to speak openly. Both are afraid to take a step forward. But every time you're alone, the silence between you speaks louder than words.