The Deep End » Outer Banks [JJ Maybank] BOOK ONE

VII: Beaching

beaching
verb. deliberately running a vessel aground so as to load or unload it, or sometimes to prevent a damaged vessel from sinking or to facilitate repairs below the waterline.

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Lee continued to stare in slight disbelief at Rafe, unable to fully process that he was standing in front of her. Shaking her head, she finally said, "What are you doing here, Rafe?"

Rafe shrugged, running a hand through his slicked-back blonde hair. It was starkly different from JJ's blonde hair, which always curled loosely around his ears and shifted in the breeze, held down only by the occasional baseball cap.

"I was in the area, figured I'd stop by our old spot. What are you doing here?"

"I was just... going for a run," Lee murmured.

Rafe raised one eyebrow. "Whatever. Are you still hanging around with those dirty Pogues?"

Lee's upper lip curled back over her teeth. "Yeah, and what about it? You still running around with drug dealers?"

"What, I'm not allowed to care about you?"

Lee let out a barking laugh. "Oh, now you wanna care about me? Where was that two years ago when my dad died?"

Rafe's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did it not occur to you that I lost a father that night, too?"

"You lost a father?" Lee shouted. "My dad is dead, and you weren't there for me! You left me in favor of keeping your Kook status all shiny!"

"I did what I had to do, Lee," Rafe said defensively.

"No, you left me when I needed you the most because being friends with rich kids is more important to you than being loyal," Lee snarled before turning and storming down the road towards her home.

Her bike be damned, she just wanted to get away from Rafe Cameron. When she and her mom had begun to lose their money and been forced to move to the Cut after the death of her father, Rafe had left her side. He couldn't be associated with any dirty Pogues. His friendship had always come with a price, and it had suddenly been a price that Lee couldn't pay.

After a few minutes of walking down the road, anger radiating off of her shoulders, Rafe's truck pulled up next to Lee. She sent it a harsh glare before looking back down to the ground.

"C'mon, Lee, get in," Rafe urged from inside the truck. "Let me drive you home."

"No," Lee said sternly. "I don't want your help."

She could almost feel Rafe rolling his eyes. "Christ, Lee, I'm just trying to be a good fucking person!"

"Well, it's a little late for that, Rafe!" she shouted, continuing to walk along the road. "Besides, I'm just going to get my bike."

"You're going to get your bike?" Rafe asked skeptically. "Where'd you park, Figure Eight?"

"Something like that," Lee muttered, clenching her jaw.

Rafe stopped the truck next to her and, out of surprise, Lee halted as well. "Just get in, Lee. I'll take you to your bike. I'll get in trouble if I just leave you here."

Biting her lip, Lee considered the options. If she continued to be stubborn, she would have to walk an indefinite distance back to her bike. If she relented and got into Rafe's truck, she could get him to waste some gas taking her to her bike.

"Fine," she agreed, throwing herself into the backseat. "Straight to my bike."

It was quiet for the first few minutes of the car ride. Lee stared through the back window, silently seething, occasionally barking out directions to where she had crashed her bike.