what now? | outerbanks

• seventy-four •

/FLASHBACK/

Six months. Rafe and Kiara dated for a full six months. It wasn't record-breaking, and it wasn't even that impressive, but for a pair of high schoolers, this was something special. The two of them were what most of their peers considered the perfect couple—two arguably hot, rich kids who could do virtually anything they wanted. They had been terrified to tell Sarah, sweet, snickering dates being bogged down by an unsupportive sister, but in the end, it was much better than either of them had imagined.

/THREE WEEKS IN/

    It was three weeks from the first night Kiara and Rafe spent together—the night they ran away from the Kegger and spent hours tangled up in bed. Kiara had waited her whole life for that fateful night, whenever and with whoever it should arise, and she'd bet it couldn't have been much more perfect than it was. For the next three weeks, Kiara and Rafe were enthralled. He'd sneak her out of her house and take her on his boat, she'd show him all of her favorite hidden spots around town, all without anyone knowing. There was something thrilling about the secrecy, about knowing they were each other's stolen thing.
    Now, it was a quiet summer night. Sarah was lying flat on the floor of Kiara's room, one foot propped up in Kie's hand for a pedicure. The blonde had a popsicle in one hand and a teen magazine in the other, flipping lazily between pages she wasn't really reading. Her damp hair was spilling over the edge of the rug, still smelling faintly of salt and coconut from their earlier swim.
    Sarah had been rambling all night about something—Topper, probably—but Kiara was too nervous about what she had to tell her to be paying full attention.
    "You know what Topper told me today?" Sarah huffed in pure outrage.
    "What?!" Kie shouted in a practiced mock enthusiasm.
    Sarah took a bite out of her popsicle, and Kie winced. She never understood how Sarah could just bite into a popsicle like that, no hesitation. "He told me that he wanted me to have his kids," she said warily.
    Kie choked on air, dropping the nail polish brush with a clatter against the cap. "He what?"
    "Yeah. Something about 'loving the idea of me being all soft and glowy and maternal.'"
    "Sarah..." Kiara trailed off, eyebrows raised.
    "I know!" Sarah sat up laughing, but there was something too breathy about it, like she knew it was insane, but hadn't totally accepted it yet. She had that look in her eye—the one that told Kie she didn't really understand the gravity of the situation and was still hopelessly in love. "Like, okay, we're not even out of high school yet, and this man is ready to decorate a whole nursery!"
    Kie shook her head slowly, putting the cap back on the polish. "Sarah," she dragged the name out. "I don't—I don't think you get what he means." Sarah looked back blankly, confused but curious.
    "He doesn't want to raise a kid; he wants to get you pregnant."
    Sarah blinked slowly. "What?"
    "Sarah, it's all a scheme. I mean, think about it. Do you really think Topper's lying awake at night dreaming about changing diapers or late-night feedings?"
    "I don't know, I—"
    "He has ulterior motives."
    "No, he doesn't," Sarah denied immediately, her tone laced with that knee-jerk kind of defensiveness that Kie had come to recognize over the years.
"Yeah, he does," Kie replied, dead serious now. Her voice dropped lower. More careful. Soon, Sarah realized Kie wasn't joking, and her face fell just a little. "It's not about babies. It's about sex and power. He's imagining you stuck. His."
"That's kind of dramatic, don't you think?" Sarah asked with an awkward smile. Awkward was something that Sarah Cameron was not. She could be a little quirky sometimes, but it was always in that special charming way she did things. But this—this smile—it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Is it?" Kie pressed gently. "That whole 'glowing and maternal' line? That's just his way of saying he's turned on by the idea of you two being tied together forever."
Sarah gave a short, uncertain laugh. "You make it sound gross."
"It is gross," Kie said, softer now but no less sure. "I just don't want you to brush it off and wake up a year from now feeling trapped."
Sarah went quiet. She sucked on her popsicle for a second, suddenly not so amused. "Well, damn."
Kie suddenly softened, her tone shifting. "Look, I'm not trying to be harsh or anything. I just know you can do so much better than a guy who sees your future as his fantasy."
"I just—things like this happen, and then he says one good thing and I forget about all of the bad." Sarah's voice cracked. "I've been with him since the beginning of eighth grade, and now we're going into our sophomore year at sixteen years old, and it just feels too familiar to get up and end it over this."
"And I'm not telling you that you need to break up with him right now," Kie said gently. "I just don't want you to lose sight of yourself in this."
There was a moment of silence between them. Just two knowing girls staring into each other's eyes, both realizing there was something more they needed—something more than they were being given.
A tear formed in Sarah's eye. "I really like him," she whispered.
"I know," Kie said apologetically, pulling the blonde into a hug. "I know you do."
    Before she even let herself cry all the way, Sarah wiped under her eyes and laughed at herself like she was crazy. "I don't even know why I'm crying. I mean, I don't even want kids."
    "No?"
    "I've never really thought about it too much, but I feel like it would just be a lot to handle. I'm gonna be a nurse, and Topper's gonna be a lawyer, so I feel like we'd just be too busy."
    There was a beat, just enough silence to feel heavy.
    "And I don't know... I just don't see myself in that life. Like, the mom life. Minivan, preschool drop-off, packing lunches every day? That doesn't feel like me."
    Kie tilted her head a little, watching Sarah more closely. "Well, maybe it'll be with another guy. Someone you'll meet later on."
    "Maybe," Sarah shrugged. "But I want to wait until at least twenty-five." Something in her voice twisted slightly, like she was trying to convince herself. "I just... I want a life that's mine first, you know? Not something I have to build around someone else." She hesitated, then added quickly, "Not that there's anything wrong with that, I just don't think I'd be good at it."
    Kie smiled in that soft, knowing way she sometimes did. "I think you'd be better at it than you think."
    Sarah raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
    "Because you're stubborn, and kind, and you care more than you let on. You'd be one of those moms who keeps Band-Aids in her purse and scares the crap out of teachers who treat her kid unfairly."
    Sarah laughed, shaking her head. "God, I hope not."
    Kie grinned. "Too late. It's totally in you."
    Sarah looked away, quiet for a moment. Then, "Topper would hate me being like that."
    Kie hated what this comment insinuated, but she didn't press, just let the comment hang in the air between them. "Tell that to my parents," she said instead. "They think if I'm not pregnant by twenty-two I'll never have a family ever."
    "Lucky you. My dad thinks if I do anything before thirty I'm going to hell."
    "Wait, so you and Top really haven't done anything?"
    "I mean, not really, no." Sarah twisted the stick of her now-dripping popsicle, avoiding Kie's gaze. "We've... messed around, but every time it gets close to that, I just—I don't know. I get this weird feeling in my stomach like... like I'm about to cross a line I can't come back from."
    Kie tilted her head. "Do you think it's because you're not ready?"
    "Maybe," Sarah admitted. "Or maybe it's just him. Sometimes I think I'm supposed to want it, because he's hot and we've been together forever, but then I'm in the moment and it just feels off."
    "That's your gut talking," Kie said quietly. "And your gut is rarely wrong."
    Sarah gave a small, sad smile. "God, I hate that you're so wise sometimes."
    Kie grinned, wiggling the polish brush in the air like a wand. "It's the nail polish. It's giving me magical powers."
    "And how do you know so much about dating anyway?"
    Kie froze. Shit. "So, I've actually been meaning to tell you—"
    "Kie!"
    Kie hid her face in her hands. "Please don't make this a big thing."
    "You're dating someone, aren't you?" the blonde asked. Kie couldn't say anything, but the blushing of her cheeks was enough of a tell. "Oh my—like dating dating?"
    "Like, he-asked-me-to-be-his-girlfriend-two-nights-ago dating." Kie was full-red at this point, wishing she could disappear.
    Sarah scrambled to her knees, sitting directly in front of Kie, gaping at her with her pleading brown eyes. "Kiara Carrera! I knew you were acting weird! You have to tell me who!"
"I can't!"
"Come on, Kie."
Kie groaned. "Fine. But you have to swear you won't—"
"I won't do anything," Sarah promised. "Just tell me."
"Rafe," Kie said, her voice so soft Sarah almost didn't catch it.
For a second, Sarah just blinked at her. Like the words hadn't registered. "You're joking," she said sharply.
Kie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Sarah sat up straighter, the popsicle slipping from her hand and hitting the carpet with a dull thud. "You're actually serious?!"
Kie winced. "Sarah—"
"My brother, Kie?!" Sarah snapped, the words slicing through the air before she could stop them. "Are you out of your mind?"
Kie flinched like she'd been slapped, but didn't say anything. Just twisted the hem of her shirt harder, looking everywhere but at Sarah.
Sarah pushed up to her feet, pacing a few steps before stopping herself. "Jesus Christ," she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair.
The room was too quiet except for the quick, shaky breaths Kie was taking. Sarah turned back around, the fight draining out of her as quickly as it had come. She wasn't mad, exactly. She was blindsided, hurt, confused.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice lower now, raw.
"I was scared," Kie admitted, voice cracking. "I didn't want to mess everything up."
Sarah sank back down onto the edge of the bed, her hands dangling uselessly between her knees. She stared down at the puddle of melted popsicle on the carpet like maybe it'd change things.
"You and Rafe," she said quietly, like she still couldn't quite believe it. "You and Rafe Cameron."
Kie wiped her palms on her jeans, nodding miserably.
Sarah shook her head slowly. "I don't even know what to say."
"I know," Kie whispered. "I'm sorry."
Sarah laughed again—but it wasn't really a laugh. More like a broken, breathy sound she couldn't hold in. "This is gonna take me a second," she said finally.
Kie sat there frozen, afraid to breathe wrong.
"But," Sarah added, after a long beat, "if he hurts you, I swear to God, Kie—"
"He won't," Kie said quickly, cutting her off. "He's—he's different with me."
Sarah just looked at her for a long moment, something complicated flickering in her eyes. She didn't say anything else. She didn't have to.