𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

σαράνταέξι ; 46

song of the chapter:
GHOSTIN ; ariana grande

A few weeks had slipped by since that awkward encounter with Rafe, and Margarita found herself wrapped in an unsettling silence. The house felt empty, echoing with a hollowness that mirrored her own. The Pogues had continued their adventures without her, leaving her feeling like a ghost in a world that was moving on without her. Each day bled into the next, her once vibrant life dulled by solitude and unanswered questions.

Sitting cross-legged on her bed, she stared at the half-packed suitcase before her. Clothes lay strewn haphazardly across the comforter, remnants of a life that felt just out of reach. She sighed, running a hand through her messy curls, frustration bubbling to the surface. It felt surreal to be in this position—to be packing for a trip that had no clear destination and no real excitement behind it.

"Where are you going?" she muttered to herself, her voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, unanswered. The thought of running away, even temporarily, had become a lifeline, a way to escape the ache of being left behind.

But where could she go? Greece was a dream, a place that felt both familiar and foreign after everything that had happened. She missed the sun-soaked streets, the laughter of her cousins, the way the waves crashed against the cliffs. Yet, it was also a reminder of what she had lost—of the girl she used to be before the world felt so heavy.

As she tossed a few more shirts into the suitcase, her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. Glancing at the screen, she saw Sarah's name flash. With a mix of hope and trepidation, she swiped to answer.

"Margarita!" Sarah's voice was bright, almost too cheerful for the mood Margarita found herself in. "I've been trying to reach you! Where have you been?"

"Busy," Margarita replied, her tone clipped as she pushed a stray sock to the side. "What's up?"

"I was hoping we could talk. The Pogues and I have been planning something, and I really want you to be part of it," Sarah said, a hint of excitement threading through her words.

Margarita's heart sank. "Planning what? You guys never invite me to hang out anymore."

"Look, I know it's been weird," Sarah admitted, her voice softening. "But this is different. I swear, you'll want to be involved. Just trust me."

"Why should I?" Margarita shot back, frustration boiling over. "You all made it pretty clear I'm not part of your group anymore."

"Margarita, it's not like that! You're still one of us, even if it doesn't feel that way. We miss you. I miss you," Sarah pleaded, her voice filled with sincerity. "Please, just meet us at the old pier tonight. I promise it'll be worth it."

Margarita hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The idea of reconnecting brought both warmth and apprehension. But as much as she longed for the camaraderie, the gnawing weight of her decision hung heavily over her.

"I can't, Sarah," she finally said, her voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. "I'm leaving. For good."

Silence stretched on the other end of the line, thick and heavy. "What? You can't be serious. Where will you go?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her heart breaking a little more with each word. "But I need to find something different. I can't stay here anymore."

"Margarita, please! Don't do this. We can work through it. Just talk to me, talk to us," Sarah implored, her urgency palpable.

But Margarita shook her head, even though Sarah couldn't see her. "I can't keep waiting for something that's not going to happen. I need to go. I'm sorry."