THE CUT

I think you just need to lay off the drugs, man

20

RAFE

Since finding out about Y/n and JJ, Rafe has thought about killing the Pogue. He thought about the way he'd do it, too. Slowly, so JJ would know what it's like.

These tiny daydreams drizzle their way through Rafe's mind; after snorting a line in his bedroom, and that rush surges through his veins, he thinks he can accomplish anything; every time Sarah comes in through the front door humming to herself after having spent time with her Pogue boyfriend; after Ward hits him and he feels powerless.

Rafe once mentioned this to Topper in the weight room at the Country Club. It was just the two of them with a Kanye West song blasting.

Topper laughed when Rafe told him he had it out for JJ Maybank.

"I don't think your girlfriend would like you beating up her boy toy," he said.

Topper thought it was a joke, which only pissed Rafe off more.

"I think you just need to lay off the drugs, man."

Rafe went back to lifting weights.

Now, at the house, Rafe sits on the balcony with his music and a joint pinched between his fingers. He takes a hit, staring out at the glistening water beyond.

He doesn't hear Sarah over the music until she's right there in his face.

He startles and nearly drops his joint.

Rafe snaps the music off. "What?"

"I just needed you to turn down the music," she says. "God, it's like a frat house up here." She wrinkles her nose. "And you smell like B.O."

When she turns away, Rafe grimaces at her. Sarah is a brat. She comes in like a tornado and ruins things, and then she just leaves. And she always gets away with it.

"I think that's just the remnants of your Pogue boyfriend on you," Rafe says.

Sarah whirls back around and narrows her brown eyes at him.

"You're a hypocrite," she says. "You talk shit about my friends all the time, meanwhile you're wasting your life away by sitting up here and smoking weed. Dad is gonna kill you if he finds out."

Rafe grinds the joint out in the ashtray. Ward doesn't care as much about weed. It isn't too harsh of an offense.

"You're a brat, you know that?"

Sarah's face twists like she's eaten something sour. That, along with the weed, makes Rafe smile.

And then her shoulders and hands and face all relax.

"You're the most selfish person I know. No wonder Y/n dumped you."

This burns that open wound within Rafe like she's squeezed lemon juice in his torn flesh.

He smacks the bowl so it flies off the table and clatters on the balcony floor.

Sarah jumps.

"Don't talk to me about her," he says.

His sister stares at him with wild, fearful eyes.

"You wanna call me selfish, fine. But do not fucking say her name to me."

Sarah watches him, carefully, fully alert now, as Rafe runs his hands over his cropped hair.

"You're insane." Her voice shakes.

"What's going on?"

Ward materializes in the doorway, and Sarah whips around. She looks grateful that their father is here to take her side, to protect her.

"Rafe has lost his mind," she says.

Ward stares at Rafe with ice-cold eyes. Then his lips tighten into a flat line. Rafe stands down. It's already too late.

Sarah scurries away like a frightened rabbit, and Ward steps out onto the terrace. "What was that all about?"

No matter what Rafe says, Ward will find an excuse to scold him.

"You're smoking weed out here?" Ward notices the tray and the ashes scattered about. "I thought I told you no drugs in this house."

Rafe braces himself.

Ward steps closer, slowly, like a villain in a movie stepping out from the shadows. He dares Rafe to look at him. Rafe won't.

"You're lucky this wasn't coke. If smoking a little weed would get you to calm the fuck down, I'd allow it. But, clearly, it isn't working because you just scared your fucking sister half to death."

When Rafe won't look at him, Ward grabs him by the collar. Except, the weed has mellowed Rafe out. Even as his father shakes him back and forth like a doll, Rafe feels only half there, like it isn't happening to him but someone else.

Still no reaction.

Ward curses. He lets go of Rafe's shirt. Rafe refuses to meet his gaze, and then Ward slaps him hard across the face so he stumbles backward. From his jaw to his temple, his skin burns.

"I can't have you living in my house if you're going to scare your sister like that."

Rafe barely regains his footing when Ward hits him again, right upside the head. It rattles his brain, and his pulse strengthens in his temple.

"So help me God, Rafe, when Wheezie gets home, she better know nothing about this. The last thing that thirteen-year-old girl needs to know about is how much of a fuck up her brother is."

He spits these last words in Rafe's face. Rafe flinches but doesn't dare wipe it away. He leans away from his father, stoned, half there, half somewhere far away.

Finally, Ward shoves Rafe so he staggers back, loses his footing, and collapses against the couch. Still, he doesn't react. He doesn't know how to anymore.

He's relieved when Ward starts back for the door and watches him from the corner of his eye.

"You make it really hard sometimes to want you around," Ward says, and then he's gone.

Rafe lets out a breath, and it all comes out in a shaky sob. His skin gets hot again. Tears fill his eyes and fall into his lap, staining his shorts. For once, he lets it out. He lets himself hurt. It floods his entire body, his lungs, until it feels like a hand around his throat and his shoulders shake. But to let it out feels so good.