The sun was barely up when Heather arrived at her family's estate. She had come in quietly, hoping to sneak past her parents and avoid any unwanted attention. However, as she tiptoed through the front hall, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety at the thought of facing them. Her appearance was far from what she had hoped for: messy hair in a disheveled bun, smudged makeup from the night before, and wearing a hoodie that didn't belong to her.
As Heather crept past the kitchen, her father's voice cut through the stillness. "Coming in early?" he asked, his tone barely hiding the disapproval.
Caught off guard, Heather froze. "Dad! You're home!" she said, forcing a bright, if somewhat hollow, smile as she turned to face him. She moved toward him to give him a hug, trying to mask her unease.
Her father's gaze fell on her with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Ugh, you had fun last night?" he asked, eyeing her appearance critically.
Heather laughed nervously, her breath tinged with the faintest hint of alcohol. "Yeah, I did, actually." She chuckled, but the sound was more of an anxious release than genuine amusement.
Her father's nose wrinkled slightly as he detected the alcohol on her breath. His eyes traveled from her disheveled state to the hoodie she was wearing. "You hanging out with those Pogue friends?" he asked, his tone more stern.
Heather hesitated, caught off guard by the question. Her father's irritation was palpable, and he slammed his coffee mug down on the counter. "Let me tell you something, okay?" he began, gesturing for her to sit beside him. "I tolerate your friends because I value my daughter's happiness, alright. But seeing you come home at 5 in the morning, absolutely bombed, and in some guy's clothes—that's something I won't tolerate."
Heather's eyes widened, her heart sinking as she sat down, feeling the weight of his disappointment. "I understand partying and drinking, but in some random guy's clothes?" he continued, his voice rising slightly.
Heather opened her mouth to defend herself. "Don't start with that. It's not what it looks like, I promise."
Her father's eyebrows knitted together in a look of skepticism. "Enlighten me," he demanded.
Heather took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "Last night at the party, my friends and I went night swimming. And coming out from the water at night, it gets cold. Tyler's friend, Rafe—Ward's son—offered me a jacket. I argued about it, but he insisted. Considering Tyler and you would've killed him if he hadn't helped me, I took it."
Her father's expression softened slightly as he processed her explanation. "Ward's son?" he asked, his tone more curious than angry.
"Yeah," Heather said, nodding. "And it was actually really sweet of him, considering how snarky he can be."
Her father's frown relaxed, though he still looked a bit perturbed. "Well... I guess I read the situation wrong. But still, if you're going to sneak in, at least don't let me catch you."
He grabbed a mug and poured some coffee, handing it to Heather with a slightly softened expression. "Here, you look like you need it." He took a quick glance at his watch, grabbing his briefcase and heading toward the door. "See you later for dinner." He kissed her forehead before stepping out to leave for work.
Heather took a grateful sip of the coffee, feeling a bit more awake and less anxious. As she stood by the counter, her mother emerged from the shadows, her laughter ringing out as she took in Heather's disheveled state.
"I'm sorry to laugh, but you look..." Her mother's amusement was clear, though she struggled to find the right words.
Heather shushed her, rolling her eyes. "Don't remind me. Dad just ripped me a new one."
Her mother's laughter was interrupted by a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, well, without context, it does look a bit... you know."
Heather groaned, leaning against the counter. "Oh my god, please don't think I'm like that."
Her mother's eyes widened in mock horror. "Besides, if it was that, I wouldn't smell like alcohol..." Heather joked, causing her mother to grimace in exaggerated disgust.
Laughing at her mother's reaction, Heather began to sip her coffee more steadily. "Whose hoodie is it anyway?" her mother asked curiously, her gaze falling on the oversized garment Heather was wearing.
Before Heather could explain, Tyler walked into the kitchen in his gym attire. He glanced at Heather and the hoodie she was wearing, his eyes widening in recognition. "That's Rafe's," he said casually.
Heather's eyes went wide. "How did that come about?" her mother asked, her tone filled with curiosity.
Heather took a deep breath. "Rafe was at the Boneyard party yesterday, and after night swimming, I told him I was cold. He offered me his hoodie, and I argued, but he insisted, considering you and Dad probably would've been furious if he hadn't helped me."
Tyler and her mother both let out an "aha" as they processed the explanation. "Well, that makes sense," Tyler said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Rafe can be surprisingly thoughtful sometimes."
Her mother's expression softened. "I suppose we did jump to conclusions. But next time, try to avoid the early morning return if you can."
Heather nodded, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion. "I'll keep that in mind."
As she finished her coffee, Heather felt a bit more at ease. The confrontation with her father had been tough, but at least her mother and Tyler understood. Now, with the day stretching out before her, she hoped to enjoy the rest of her time in the Outer Banks, trying to navigate her friendships, her relationship with Rafe, and her family's expectations—all while keeping her feet firmly planted on solid ground.
YOU ARE READING
The Lines We've Crossed
Fanfiction"You're not so little anymore," Rafe told Heather as he stood beside her in the kitchen. "Is that why you keep looking at me like that?" Heather asked her brother's best friend, who only ever viewed her as his best friend's younger sister and nothi...
