Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

thirteen

Days quickly passed for Isla. Days of surfing with her brother, laying in the sun, making out with JJ on the beach. Good days. Simple days.

Days slowly passed for Rafe. Days of stalking Isla's socials, doing lines in his bedroom, going through withdrawals the next day to only go back and restart the process. Bad days. Complicated days.

There was nights where Isla felt like she couldn't breathe though. JJ had been staying at the Chateau, as was Sarah with her brother. JJ made a deal with John B, saying that it was only fair whenever Sarah stayed with him he stayed with Isla.  These nights she felt like she was being choked, like all her life force was being drained out of her just by him laying next to her.

Maybe it was the fact each night post-make out she knew he expected more. He expected to continue down that road. She was the dead end sign at the end of the street. She would end up getting up and saying she needed to brush her teeth just as his hand wandered, or take a moment to breathe when his tongue got too deep down her throat.

The second one was what happened this particular night. JJ had gotten a little angry at her— not verbally, but in his expression and the way he just rolled over and went to sleep. He was like a child throwing a tantrum that he couldn't play with his toys. And that's how he felt, that there was this opportunity for a great time right in front of him and she kept running away.

Isla laid awake as he snored. She wanted a drink, but she figured if she really drank right now she would be toeing the line of being an alcoholic. So she held herself back and dealt with her sober thoughts and inability to doze off.

Her phone lit up the ceiling, which was odd for this time of night. It couldn't be JJ or her friends. They were asleep. She opened the message and was shocked at what she saw.

12:16 AM

Rafe Cameron
I'm coming over.

Isla Routledge
The fuck you mean you're coming over?

I don't remember inviting you.

Rafe Cameron

Otw

Isla sat up in the bed, stunned. She threw on some plaid pyjama pants since she was only wearing a tank top and underwear. Maybe that was weird, but she didn't care. It was JJ, he'd seen her in less than that under way funnier circumstances. But Rafe, she wasn't gonna see him in her underwear, that would be silly. So even though she had no bra on with her tank top, she wore that and her pyjama pants and headed out to sit in the porch to make sure Rafe didn't just go inside.

She sat waiting for a little bit under he pulled up in his Mercedes. He got out of the car and came into the porch.

'Why the fuck do you think you can just come over?' Isla said, whispering aggressively. She wanted to yell, but she couldn't wake anyone.

Originally, she had thought Rafe was going to show up to her house high off his mind, but he wasn't. He wasn't shaking and his eyes were dilated. He was just as sober as she was.

'How's it going with the Pogue?' he asked, looking her up and down.

'Good. Great,' Isla replied.

'Yeah, sounds convincing. Trouble in paradise?' Rafe bickered.

'Why would I tell you if there was?'