Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"EXCUSE ME, SIR, DO WE HAVE TO SHUCK THESE OURSELVES?" imogen asked pope in a fake-english accent, coming up behind the boy. he turned round unimpressed, eyes widening when he realised it was imogen. "cause i'm afraid that it might mess up my costume!"
"imogen!" pope exclaimed, pulling his cousin into a tight hug. "where have you been, i— i'm so sorry, this is all my fault, i shouldn't have let you take the blame for me, god—"
"it's alright, pope. i'm fine. i meant everything that i said. you've got a bright future. you don't need petty shit like this weighing you down."
"but what about you— i— how are you even here?"
"my mom bailed me out." imogen explained. "came down to the station and told me she wants me to go back to new york. i stormed off, and ever since then she hasn't let me out of her sight. we've been staying in a hotel on figure eight."
"hold up— she wants you to go back to new york?"
she nodded. "yeah." the girl left out the details of the extreme ultimatum. "laid it into me basically."
"well, don't go! you can't, obx is your home, im."
"i know it is," imogen shrugged. "and i don't wanna leave. i really don't wanna leave. but she's sorting out my case. her lawyer— he's the sneakiest guy i've ever met— more than jj— and i know he can get me out of this. without her money i'm going to juvie, pope. and new york looks pretty good compared to juvie."
