Always Be My Guilty Pleasure

O n e

I woke up to a bucket of water poured all over my face.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” I yelled immediately. Wrong move, because the minute I open my eyes, a pissed off Mom standing right in front of me. I jumped from the bed, quickly ran out from my room but she grabbed my wrist before it happens.

“What did you just said?” She asked in an intimidating tone.

“Well, sorry. You poured me with those waters and I can't help but shocked. Isn't it normal?” I answered.

“You better control your tongue young lady, I'm not hearing you swear in front of my face again,” she demanded.

“Mom, I swear to whoever I want except you, okay? That was not on purpose,” I shake my wrist, asking for her to let me go. She let go of me, and I made my way to my bathroom before she can say anything again.

Today is the first day of sophomore year, which means being late is the last thing I want. But hey guess what, I'm already late. School begin at 8:30 and now is already 8 but I haven't do anything. Usually, I shower and get dressed for half an hour, and I walk to school for fifteen minutes. I realize there is no use for me to shower in a rush, because I'll be late anyways. My best friend Evelyn, or Evie for short, always pick me up at 8:10 but she won't wait if I don't appear in front of her face for more than five minutes.

I was rubbing my arms with soap when I heard Evie's voice downstairs, following with Mom's yell.

“Liv Cameron! You better get your arse over here or I will drag you myself!” she shouted.

I rolled my eyes. “I'm covered with soap and naked, I believe you won't be happy seeing me wet and undressed on your kitchen,” I shouted back. Why does she has to be overreacting? I mean, Evie doesn't have to wait if she doesn't want. I can get to school by myself.

Or can I?

***

Yes. Yes I can. Of course I can. I just don't want to. So, here I am, laying on the most comfortable bed in the world, my step cousin's bed. On Stockton.

Rafe Williams, my favorite person in this universe. His mom is my mom's older sister, and twenty-two years ago she married a british widower with a two-year-old son, that was Rafe, which makes her move to London and start a new life there. Rafe was born and raised there until six years ago, when he moved here for college. He has graduated two years ago but he decided to stay here. He work as a well-known barista that has started his own coffeeshop.

We're very close since our childhood actually, even though he's eight years older. Before he moved here, we can only see each other once a year, on Christmas holidays. I was only ten when he graduated from high school, and I still remember how happy I am when I knew he's coming and going to stay here for a couple period of time. That was one of the happiest moment in my life.

However, despite how great he is on boosting my mood up, he has the same issues like I have. Well, not exactly the same but pretty similar. He has a mad father who never wants to see anything from his perspective. Also, his father always has ridiculous thoughts about Rafe in his mind, he's always assuming the worst about him. Like he wouldn't stay success for a long time or he's actually getting a girl pregnant or he's secretly doing drugs. He doesn't have any real mental issues that needs medicines and therapy to heal, but I believe there's something wrong with his brain. How could one constantly accuse bad things about Rafe like that? He's the sweetest and the toughest guy I've ever met. Periodt.

Oh, and one more thing about him. His accent. I've almost swoon over his british accent a few times. Yeah, I'm such a sucker for accents.

“You drive from Sacramento to Stockton just because you don't feel like going to school?” Rafe asked.