ROCK BOTTOM ~ Rafe Cameron // OC // JJ Maybank

eight.

It seemed like golf was Rafe's favorite thing to do.

He was there every day Bexley worked, at the right time too.

The dive shop had official been closed two whole weeks, and the cart job came at the perfect time. The course opened at nine in the morning and closed at six in the afternoon. Bexley had made a week long pattern of working nine to four, and then going to the Cameron house to clean. There really wasn't much to do at the Cameron household, and she just repeated tasks there everyday. Laundry, dishes, vacuuming, dusting, more laundry. Every other day she would clean the windows. She would stay at the Cameron house from four to six, and then head home.

She was so busy, but so relaxed at the same time. She loved routines.

The golf course was the only place she saw Rafe. She never caught him at the house anymore, at least not in the last week. Bexley recalled Wheezie saying Rose wanted Rafe to stay away from her. Maybe that's what happened. And if it was, she wondered if Rose knew Rafe saw her at the golf course everyday.

Probably not. Bexley wasn't going to tell. She actually liked seeing him. He was funny, and he was actually able to make her day better. He also tipped very well. Not as much as the first day, but still very well.

It was Saturday now. And Bexley was scouting the golf course.

"What the hell?" she breathed, narrowing her eyes. She swore she saw JJ's friend, Pope. He was walking through edge of the course. She sped up the cart, heading towards him. "Pope!"

Pope stopped, turning around he spotted her. She slowed when she got to him, stepping out of the cart she asked, "What are you doing here?"

She didn't think he was a member. Honestly, she wouldn't care if he snuck in.

The reason she stopped was because, deep down, she wanted to ask about JJ.

"Oh, hey, um..."

"Bexley," she finished.

"I'm not causing trouble," Pope told her.

"No, I know that," she said, softly. "Sorry, I was just wondering. I've never seen you here before."

Pope hesitated. "Yeah. I don't come here."

Keeping near the golf cart, she looked at him, shyly. "How, um..." She tried to think of the right words to say. "How have you guys been?"

"Are you asking about us? Or about JJ?" Pope seemed in a hurry. He was carrying a grocery bag. He must not have been up for small talk.

She guessed there was no point in hiding it, since he saw right through her. "JJ, I guess." She ran a nervous hand through her hair. "I was just wondering if he got in trouble at all. For the beach."

Pope shook his head. "No one called the cops. It's pogue land, they know better."

So that's what it meant to be a pogue. Don't call the cops.

"Okay..." she said, awkwardly. "Well, are you thirsty or anything? It's hot out here, I could get you some water."

"I'm on my way out," he told her.

"Okay...um, how's..." she changed her mind at the last minute. "...John B? Haven't seen him in a while."

"That's because he doesn't work for Mr. Cameron anymore," Pope told her.