THE CUT

the Camerons are here

4

It took me a couple of days to recover from the boat party. When I didn't come down for breakfast the morning after, my mother welcomed herself into my room to tell me my plate would get cold. She pressed her hand to my forehead to make sure I wasn't "coming down with anything."

She left me alone for a little while. Before she left for an art gala, she brought me a bowl of soup she'd made the evening before—dinner I had missed because I'd been at that party, where Rafe had kissed me.

He'd shown up in my dreams. I couldn't remember anything about the dream, but I saw a flash of his face in my mind, even now. I must have been going in and out of sleep early this morning when it happened because he felt so close.

Even now, as I leash my dog, Mitsi, for a walk around the neighborhood to clear my mind, he's still there, lingering, like a lyric on repeat. I can't shake him—it. It happened so suddenly, by the time he pulled away, I was still preparing for it. And he didn't say anything afterward. I was so stunned, so unsure of what to say that I asked a lesser crossfaded friend to take me home, and they did, right away.

My favorite thing about strolling through my neighborhood is the stillness; of the houses and the lawns, but the streets especially. Some cars are parked along the curbs, baking in the morning sun, and only a few people are out walking their dogs. Most of them are on vacation somewhere and have left the neighborhood to me.

I haven't brought my headphones with me today. I decided to listen to the birds, the faint rumble of a car on another block, and Mitsi's panting. I needed to clear my mind, not push anything to the back of it.

We turn a corner and head down a more secluded street not too far from the Camerons'. Rafe pops up again in my head, and I imagine him at home, not thinking about me. Then with his friends, not thinking about me. It doesn't have a hold on him the way it does me. I'm losing my mind, and I shouldn't be. It shouldn't be a big deal.

I haven't talked to Sarah since she left to hang out with the Pogues after dinner. Normally, I would have reached out to her by now, and asked to hang out, but... I keep thinking about Rafe. He's her brother. How could I possibly see Sarah and not tell her?

Have I already waited too long to tell her? Or, do I have to tell her? If I do, am I making it a bigger deal than it was? Surely, Rafe isn't freaking out about it the way I am. God, he was so gone. So, he kissed me. Big deal. It was one kiss, and it was a party.

But still. Her brother, Rafe, kissed me. And Rafe and I have always gotten along, but... not like that.

Mitsi spots a Robin down the street and pulls me along with her as she chases after it. I shout at her, trying to hold my ground, but for a tiny dog, she pulls a lot of weight.

A car rumbles up the road from behind, growing louder and louder. Mitsi startles, and I regain my composure. A burst of orange infiltrates my peripheral vision. Then a mop of blonde hair billows violently in the wind as the creaky van careens by me. JJ leans out of the passenger window.

"Tell Rafe I said to go fuck himself!"

John B hits the brakes at the end of the block, and the van squeaks as they bump around the corner. Their laughter echoes up the street, even after they're gone. It's stupid of them to laugh. JJ's all talk. If Rafe catches him in Figure 8, outside of his shift at the Country Club, JJ is done for.

Sarah must not be with them. They wouldn't act like that in front of her. That's why she thinks they're "actually so great."

I'm back home in under an hour, but as soon as I walk through my door, I think of Rafe again.