❝You can hide here with the alcohol and drugs, pretending that your life isn't going to shit. But, when you need me, Rafe. I will still be here. Because deep down in your 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 heart, you know that this isn't the way it's suppose to go. You k...
Marcy Jason learned from a young age that Rafe Cameron is practically incapable of correctly expressing his feelings of affection. His love language is screaming matches before kissing you until your lips bruised. His love language is washing the dishes until his hands bleed, his love language isn't common, and something you could easily mistake for pent up aggression or stress.
But Marcy knew that when Rafe would kiss her until her lips pulsed and were swollen and bleeding, that it wasn't anger —— it was proof. Proof that he cared, in his own twisted way. Because Rafe Cameron would take a bullet for Marcy Jason while calling her unforgivable names. And Marcy would wash and stitch his wound while sobbing loudly to his rasps of breath that ended in slut.
"I don't know what you see in him," 13-year-old JJ Maybank states as John B. waxes his surfboard. Marcy sits with her legs folded to her chest and toes digging into the sand.
"You wouldn't understand him like I do; he's different with me," her response makes JJ nod, John B. not paying much attention to the conversation the two were having. "It's probably cause you're a Kook," John B. and JJ laugh at the latter's statement, JJ pushing his blonde hair back.
"Fuck off! Okay, so maybe you're right. I'm a Kook, so? You guys don't think if I was a Pogue he'd still be with me?" She peers up at JJ with squinted eyes. The boys share a look.
"Maybe in secret," John B. says, pushing his board aside. "It's obvious Rafe is a sucker for maintaining his reputation of the Kook prince, yeah? I don't think him, hypothetically, having a Pogue girlfriend would be good for that reputation. You? You're the Kook princess! Perfect match, boosts his reputation," John B. finishes with a bow.
Marcy gnaws on her lip in thought before pushing her legs down and letting her hands play in the sand. "Do you guys' think that's all I am to him? A part in boosting his reputation?"
JJ shrugs. "Does he kiss you like he's dying?"
Marcy shakes her head.
"You're definitely just a part in his reputation," JJ says, making John B. smack his arm with a "not cool, bro" look.
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"Hello, trouble-makers," Kiara greets the group, settling down next to Marcy, who leans against her. "I'm only a trouble-maker by association," she protests, turning to the girl with a crooked grin.
Pope joins them next, sitting down away from everyone. His skin is a shade lighter, looking pale compared to his usual dark complexion. "You okay, there, Pope? You look like you seen a ghost," Marcy laughs, accepting the beer JJ holds out to her.
She opens, taking a big gulp. "I just seen your ex," Pope corrects, making the liquid in her mouth spurt out. Kiara cringes away, the boys' too caught up with what Pope said to care about the spray.
