𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐓 / / 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊

CHAPTER 33

"Ah, so that's where you get it from."

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

The two had been awake all night, sat out on the veranda, getting high and waiting for time to pass them by. It wasn't as warm as it had been, Stella expected a storm to be brewing, so she found herself wrapped up in one of Rafe's sweatshirts. Her back rested against the comfy chair, feet perched upon the wooden table which was littered with rubbish — empty packets of chips and Hersey wrappers, half full cans of soda, drunken bottles of alcohol and an ash tray filled with stubbed out sticks and smoked blunts. She wasn't entirely sure how they had gotten onto the subject of her childhood, the lives that her parents lived before both their untimely deaths. She rarely talked about them, in all gods truth, yet here she found herself with blood shot eyes and a clouded mind, telling the king of the Kook's all about a time she could barely remember for herself.

Rafe chuckled. "You're a combindation of both your mom and dad."

She mirrored his laugh. "Well, that tends to happen when two people make a baby, dumbass."

"You know what I mean," he knocked her leg with his hand. "Normally you take after one or the other, you know?

Leaning forward, she picked up her Diet Coke and took a sip before resting the drink in her lap. "Who do you take after then?"

"I dunno." Picking up the bong, he shrugged, curling his lip slightly. "Probably my dad, I guess, but I look like my mom."

"Really?" She asked, throwing a lighter in his direction. "I always thought you looked like Ward."

"That's because you never met my mom." Rafe shook his head with a half hearted smile as he burnt the weed in preparation.

"Hm, I think I saw her once or twice." Pondered the blonde girl, idly looking up at the sky. "Though that was years ago."

"I didn't even think you ventured onto Figure 8 years ago." He said, sucking up the bong.

Stella titled her head sightly as she watched him. In truth be told, she knew little about Rafe's mother, only that Ward divorced the woman not long after his youngest sister was born, only shortly after to become married to Rose. Then again, why would she? She was a Pogue, she had been brought up to hate those who lived on the other side of the Island. The Kooks, they where arrogant. Self-entitled, egotistical and opinionated, the type of folk who only gave a shit about themselves and the reputation that surrounded them. It's what she had been taught, it's what she had seen with her own eyes. Her kind, what she was, they where never meant to mix. Albeit, there had been some rare cases that had proven the usual statistics wrong, but such cases where hard to come by, and it usually led to a dangerous road. That's why she found herself in the company of the ones she was supposed to hate, because it was she knew it was unnatural and wrong — it was fatal.

The sound of a door shutting and the patter of light feet dragged the Swayer from her thoughts, drawing her attention to the back door of the house. A small girl appearing with a light smile on her face. Stella had seen her before, the youngest of the Cameron sibilings.

"Rafe?" She called lightly, holding onto her backpack as she approached the two.

Rafe was too interested in the green that he didn't even notice his youngest sisters arrival, not until Stella gave his knee a nudge with her foot. He glanced up at the blonde, who nodded in the newcomers direction. Huffing out the smoke, he turned to find Wheezie and quickly placed the bong back down, coughing a little as he did so. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry." Wheezie replied. "I'm not gonna tell anybody."

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, leaning forward a little. "Did you want some, or...?"