smooth seas//john b

twelve

When we get to Chapel Hill a guy finds us on the boat where we were not supposed to be. He shouts as he chases after John B and I.

"Okay, go, go, go, go!" I shout.

John B grabs my hand and helps me up onto the dock. "Come on."

We race down the pier as I yell at people in our way, "Excuse me!"

"Comin' in hot!" John B yells.

"Sorry!" I shout.

John B and I stop running once we get to the end of the pier. I can't help but laugh.

"Here's your shoe," John B says as he hands it over.

I smile. "Thanks." I look down at my clothes. "Oh, my God. We're disgusting."

John B looks at me confused. "What?"

"We will not get into the archives looking like this," I tell him.

"Why not?" John B questions.

"I promise you, they will not let us in looking like we crawled out of a swamp," I reason.

"Okay, fine," John B agrees.

John B and I walk through town. I stop in front of a nice clothing store. "What about this store? Let's go shopping here."

"Absolutely not," John B states and tries to walk away.

I grab his arm. "Whoa, JB. I think we've arrived." I walk in the store and John B follows after me.

"Maisie, you of all people should understand. This is like an organ with the wrong blood type. It doesn't work," John B tells me.

"You are the single most dramatic person I've ever met," I state.

John B sighs. "No, I'm not."

I feel a shirt on a table. "What about cashmere?"

John B grabs the shirt. "Oh, my God. Have you seen this shirt? It's $190!"

I grin. "Yeah, don't worry. I'll sugar mama you."

"Sugar mama?" John B asks.

"What about some glasses? Little Clark Kent action." I place heavy dark rimmed glasses on John B's face.

"MC, you don't understand. I don't want anything from here," John B tells me.

The clerk walks over to us. "Can I help?"

I smile. "Yes. Yes, you may, Mr..."

"Mr. Ike," the man tells me.

We shake hands. "Ike? Maisie." I put my hand on John B's arm. "Jonathan."

"John," he counters.

"My friend Jonathan here needs all the help he can get," I state.

Ike looks John B up and down. "I can see that."

I sit in a chair and watch as John B tries on a dress shirt with a bow tie. "Aww! You look like you're ready for the middle school dance."

He stands in front of the mirror. "I look like I got kicked out of the barbershop quartet."

"Mr. Ike, what about seersucker?" I ask.

John B shakes his head. "I'm not wearing seersucker."

"Excellent choice," Ike tells me.

"And maybe a pink button-down, some bucks?" I add.

"Bucks? What's a buck?" John B asks.

"I'll get a pair," Ike tells me.