CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE:
HURTS LIKE THIS
(episode eight: the cross)

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EARLY MORNING SUN WAS streaming in through the window when Haven opened her eyes. It was bright, casting a warm shadow across the sheets beneath her. If she listened carefully, she could hear the faint hum of boats out on the marsh, the crackle of bacon cooking in a pan. Everything was quiet, peaceful. For the first time in ages, Haven Murphy had woken up feeling well-rested, ready to take on the day.

But then an arm circled her waist, a dazed kiss was pressed to her bare shoulder closely followed by a snore, and reality snapped back like a rubber band.

Haven was in John B's bed. When she rolled over, John B was beside her, one arm around her waist and the other covering his eyes from the sun. They had ― oh, shit. She thought it was a dream ― a really good dream, but nothing more. She was so wrong. Oh, what had she done? They were never going to get past this. If Haven didn't leave now, John B would wake up, find her where Sarah had always been, and...

She was going to lose him as a friend. There was no other way around it. She'd ruined things. As usual. Fuck, this had to be a Maybank thing, to destroy your life when things were good for once. There was no other way to explain how Haven had thought it was okay to sleep with Sarah's ex.

Quickly, she slid out from beneath John B's arm, grabbing the first shirt she found on the floor before throwing it over her head. She'd changed back into her undergarments after... that, leaving her to quickly hike her skirt up her thighs before booking it to the door. She could come back for the rest of her things later, or she could convince JJ to do it for her. She just needed to go.

Alas, her plan was thwarted when she stepped into the living room and narrowly dodged a fatal blow to the head from a frying pan.

"What the fuck, Arden?" she screeched, heart missing a beat as her arms blocked the swing. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"I thought you were an intruder," the other girl exclaimed, gripping the cooking utensil like a bat. "What are you doing here, Haven? Why the fuck are you sneaking around my house?"

"I'm not― I'm just leav―"

"But you just got here," JJ pointed out, to which Haven frowned in confusion. Hadn't he seen where she came from? Oh. "Does your mom know you're here? Do you want to stay for breakfast? Arden's making a breakup breakfast for JB!"

"Oh, uh―"

Nervously, Haven's eyes drifted over to Arden. The girl in question was already watching her, eyes lingering on Haven's neck for some reason. Suddenly, her jaw dropped in realisation, and Haven was ready to turn and make a run for it when the door behind her suddenly opened again, a tired yawn slipping past John B's lips as he took in the sight before him. Barely noticing his friends, he grinned at the sight of Haven in his shirt, not that she'd noticed it was his when she took it. Before he could think twice, he murmured a soft greeting in her ear, wrapping his arms around her shoulders from behind.

"Oh, my god," Arden exclaimed at that, causing the boy to flinch and jump back just as quickly. "When I said you should carry on the next generation of pogues, John B Routledge, this is not what I meant."

"Wait, what?" JJ frowned, still confused.

Meanwhile, Haven's face was burning red and she knew it. If Arden knew, everyone would know. That was just how things worked with the pogues and Haven. Soon enough, Sarah would find out, and world war three would ensue.

"I should go," she began, only to be interrupted by JJ letting out a gasp.

"What do you mean, Ardy?" he asked, grinning suddenly. "Are we having another baby?"

"No way," Arden exclaimed in horror. "I'm not going through labour again, JJ Maybank. Come near me without a condom and I'll happily cut off your little friend."

"Oh."

With darkened eyes, she turned back to Haven and John B. Both were avoiding each other's gaze, a guilty mess of hickeys and mismatched clothing. It was only a matter of time before JJ caught on. And as Haven knew she would, Arden was the one to deliver the news.

"Instead of a breakup breakfast, it looks like I'm making a 'moving on' breakfast."

With that, she pranced over to the oven to finish her cooking, briefly pausing to giggle at Logan as she went. JJ hung back in her place, looking at each of his friends in turn before his own gaze eventually dropped down to his daughter. Logan Maybank gurgled up at her father, her tiny hands reaching out in hope for him to hold her. The second he had her in his arms, it struck him.

"You didn't," he shouted, immediately rounding on John B. The boy winced, and JJ's face went as red as Haven's. "You and Haven fucked!?"

"JJ, I'm―"

"Oh, come on, baby," Arden cut off Haven with a disappointed sigh. "You don't have to be so crude. I mean, we have a daughter now."

"Arden, this isn't a joke," he cried, unusually serious for once. "Look at her. She has hickeys―"

"JJ, I think you need to calm down..." sighed John B, attempting to step towards the blonde boy with his hands up in a placating gesture.

Meanwhile, Arden wasn't even paying attention anymore, humming along to the radio as she began to crack some eggs on the edge of a pan. "Do you like your eggs scrambled or boiled?" she asked the others.

JJ shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "Ardy, I'm trying to be mad here. You aren't helping."

"You're doing a superb job on your own, baby," she insisted. "Just use your chest a bit more."

John B rounded on her in disbelief. "Why would you encourage him?" he hissed, sparing a panicked glance in Haven's direction. The second she met his gaze, he turned away, his shoulders hunched with embarrassment.

Oh, god...

"It's better he gets it out of his system now," Arden said, rolling his eyes when John B opened his mouth to disagree. "Look here, John B. I've got places to be today. I'm not listening to him."

This was not how Haven had wanted things to go. She should've thought about Arden and JJ, maybe snuck out the window or something. Now, John B and Arden were arguing (well, more John B than Arden, she'd already turned back to her eggs) and JJ was looking at Haven like she'd killed a dog or something.

"My best friend and my cousin," he said with a dismayed sigh. "I can't believe you both."

"Hey! You slept with and knocked up my old best friend," Haven snapped, bristling under the weight of his glare. He'd had no problems with her and Pope. What was so different about John B?

"Well, that's different."

"How?"

The tension continued to build and build, until Haven couldn't figure out the tone anymore. Was JJ really angry at her? Had she ruined everything with him too? At long last, the chaos unravelled by Logan Maybank letting out a piercing sob. Immediately, JJ turned his attention back to her, sharp edges softening as he rocked her back and forth. Arden was quick to rush over to them, shoving past John B then Haven until she could lift Logan towards her instead.

"Sit down," she barked at the others, to which JJ and John B were quick to cave in. For a second, Haven didn't move, peering at the front door longingly. Melinda wouldn't be home this morning. She had work. If Haven could just leave... But as Arden continued to stare her down stubbornly, she knew she wouldn't get a foot outside before the shorter girl dragged her back. So with a sigh, she sat down in the empty chair beside John B, arms wrapped tight around her torso. "Good."

For a while, they sat in silence. Arden cooed at Logan like normal, JJ occasionally making a fond remark before he fell back into glowering at John B, who merely glared back and pushed his bacon and eggs around his plate moodily. Haven tried her best to eat every time Arden looked at her, but she didn't really feel hungry. And to make matters just that bit worse, Arden had to open her mouth again.

"So, Havey," she began, causing Haven to sigh and drop her fork.

"Yes, Arden?"

"Just curious, did you put that hand kink to use last night? Did you follow the advice I gave you last year?"

"Arden, what the fuck―" Haven was up and out of her seat before the girl could say anything more. John B's familiar smirk had returned as he met her eyes with surprising confidence. "Don't you dare say anything, JB," she warned.

"Oh, my god," Arden cried in amusement. "So you did."

"Nope. Saying nothing."

"But by saying nothing, you're admitting that I'm right."

"Goodbye, Arden."

Arden sighed and pouted. "You're no fun, Haven Murphy."

Fortunately, the others remained at the kitchen table, allowing Haven to duck back into John B's room and gather the rest of her things. She couldn't bring herself to look at the bed they'd shared together. Every glance brought back a memory. The way John B's lips pressed against her own, how soft his hair had been beneath her fingers as she pulled at the roots, the way―

"Haven." A soft knock sounded on the door. Haven, the colour of a tomato, turned with reluctance as John B stepped inside, blocking out Arden and JJ's heated murmurs with a click of a lock. "Have, can we talk?"

"I should go―"

"Please?"

Oh, how could she say no to those eyes?

"... Fine."

Seconds stretched into minutes. At some point, Haven took a seat on the bed, gesturing for John B to do the same. She shuffled over to give him room but he either didn't notice or just didn't care. He sat right beside her anyways, shoulders brushing. She had to fight off the smile that followed, but she knew he noticed it. He smirked, cheeks a bashful red, hopeful.

"So..." he began. "Nice weather we're having, huh?"

Haven gaped at him in disbelief, laughing before she could stop herself. "You did not just ask me about the weather."

"So what if I did?" he challenged jokingly. "Is that a crime, Murphy?"

"Shouldn't you know, JB?"

"Oh, low blow, Havey," he deadpanned. Pause. The air grew tense again, both of them knowing what was coming. "Listen, Haven, about last night―"

"Don't even worry about it," she cut him off quickly, heart leaping in fright. "Let's just forget it, okay?"

As soon as she said those words, she regretted them. Hurt flickered across John B's face, sharp and tender like a bruise, closely accompanied by confusion. "You... you want to forget it?"

"Don't you?" she frowned, feeling uneasy. She thought...

"What? No!" Her surprise was evident. It only made it worse. "Haven, I like yo―"

"Please don't tell me that."

"Why not?" he let out a sigh of frustration, failing to hear the way her breath hitched as she inhaled. "Haven―"

"John B, please."

"It's the truth," he exclaimed then, and Haven couldn't help it anymore. She stood up, not wanting to see the look in his eyes for one more second. But John B was quick to follow, to gently grab her wrist to stop her from leaving. "I'm not lying to you."

She wanted to pull away, but she couldn't. Her head and heart were at war, her consciousness stuck in the middle. Friendship or this feeling in her chest, that she hadn't felt in such a long time.

"I know," she murmured, subconsciously leaning into his touch. John B smiled and pulled her closer. Oh, why couldn't he make this easy for her? "But you and Sarah have been broken up for two weeks. You can't gain feelings for someone else that fast."

"Well, I have," he insisted. He sounded so truthful. Haven wanted to believe him. "I'm not going to lie, my feelings for Sarah are there. But you make me really happy, Haven. And I think, if I had the chance, I could like you even more. I could lov―"

"I don't know what you want me to say right now," she snapped, feeling the familiar swell of panic in her throat. "I'm not going to ruin my friendship with Sarah more than I already have. I can't."

"You think Arden won't tell her what we did? Haven, she's going to know either way, so what's―"

"Well, maybe I just don't want my heart broken, John B," she snapped, prompting his hurt to return. She wanted to stop, to just put it to rest, but the words were spilling over, John B caught in the crossfire. "Did you think about that?"

"... You think I'd break your heart?"

"I don't know," she conceded, pushing her hair out of her face. "I just ― I like you, alright? But that only makes this worse. I don't ― I just want everything to be okay. And if I'm with you, it won't be..."

"Oh."

"But it's also shitty without you," she continued, sighing when he refused to meet her eyes. "So I feel like I'm losing either way. And I don't know what to do, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"

"Oh."

"I'm really sorry, JB, I―"

"Don't be," he said, though he looked like a kicked puppy. Haven immediately wanted to take it back, to kiss him again. But she didn't want to be his rebound. She just wanted to see how things went first before she invested herself and got her heart stomped on. "I get it."

"Maybe we could..." she trailed off, unsure what the right words were. She didn't want to get his hopes up, but she also didn't want friendship. She'd never be able to be in the same room as him without thinking of that night, of the way he'd said her name in ways she'd never pictured him in before. It would haunt her. "I don't know. Forget I said anything."

But John B's interest had officially been caught. "What if we took it slow? Just... see how things go."

As it so happened, 'seeing how things go' was way harder than Haven thought it would be. Not even an hour later, the others had shown up, and were admittedly very confused to find Arden teasing John B and Haven every other second. It wasn't hard to figure out why. John B had made no effort to hide the hickeys Haven gave him. Rather, he wore them with a sense of pride that made Haven's insides feel warm, even when Pope looked crestfallen. Their tentative friendship suddenly seemed tense, so much so that Haven pulled him aside while the others chilled out on the porch.

"What's up?" Pope asked as they stood opposite each other in the kitchen. He didn't meet her eyes, causing Haven to sigh in defeat.

"You know what's up," she said, though was soon interrupted by Pope shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he insisted. "It hasn't for a while."

"Maybe not, but it did once." When Pope didn't respond, she took that as a sign to continue. They needed this. If she and John B stood even the slightest chance, Haven needed to do what she'd promised Maisie and rebuild burnt bridges. "It was never you, Pope. I hope you know that. It was never anything you did."

"I know," he murmured, finally returning her stare. "You don't have to..."

"Please," she cut in beseechingly. "This has been on my mind for a while. Can I just... say it and then we can move forward?" So he nodded, waiting. "It was meeting you and getting thrown right into a manhunt for the gold. It was putting my life on the line for something that seemed so far out of reach. We should've known when we kissed at Midsummers that things weren't going to last, Pope. I mean, we got together while hiding out from the police."

Thinking back on it was like watching a movie of another person's life. Haven Murphy didn't feel like that girl anymore. She'd said so before, but now more than ever, she meant it.

"Our relationship started with grief. I could feel us drifting from the very beginning, and I know you did too. So I got out before I could let myself fall in love with you." Love born from grief wasn't healthy. Maisie had said it time and time again. Love was hard, but not so hard that you began to hate it. "If things were different, if we'd found the gold and that was that, I think I could've loved you and meant it, Pope. And I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

"Don't be," he said once he was sure she'd finished. Already, Haven's chest felt lighter, like she'd finally managed to let go. Pope smiled at her reassuringly, and it was easy for her to smile back, to mean it for once. "And for what it's worth, I accept your apology. I just want us to be friends, Haven, for the pogues to be the pogues again."

"So friends then?" she grinned, to which he laughed and nodded.

"Friends."