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aliciastarkeyy · 3 months ago

Text

Fools gold

Summary ᯓ★ uncool, typically 'nerdy' and unseen by most, your life on the island is pretty simple. Until Rafe Cameron begins to pay attention to you.

Warnings ᯓ★ swearing, the motions of a 'bet' being made, wagers, fake love, one sided love, fighting, eventual smut. ! not proofread!

Word count ᯓ★ 4,234

part1⟡ part3⟡ part4⟡

The walk to the bookshop the next morning is refreshing. After a terrible night of sleep, you’re glad to be going to the store and enjoying some time alone with the books. And willow.

There’s a subtle breeze sweeping along the almost empty boardwalk, the only people out the one’s grabbing breakfast, or using the shops that open before nine.

Surfers are out on the water, like they are every morning. The waves are quite violent, thrashing against the shore, and you know they’re having a good time.

Willow purrs when you open the door to the bookshop, sliding through the gap and taking her sleeping position straight on one of the bottom shelves of one of the bookshelves. You know you won’t see her for a few hours now.

Once setting up the music and the cash register, you unlock the front door and begin browsing the shelves to pick something for yourself to read.

Your mind slips away to Rafe Cameron. He seemed to want to talk to you- despite his polar opposite behaviour in high school. Back then, you never existed to him. Now, he’d come into your work and then gone out of his way to talk to you at Maysi’s party.

Alas, you hadn’t seen him for six years. He could have changed. Maybe he just wanted to be friends. Maybe.

Maybe seemed like a longshot. He didn’t look like the type.

The morning sails by, especially when you’re reading pride and prejudice to pass the time. You’ve had a few more customers today, figuring it must be nicer weather than yesterday and all the rich folk of the island are suddenly interested in reading.

The afternoon does not go so fast. It slows dramatically, in fact, to the point that you put down the book and begin to clear some of the shelves, reorganising.

You’re so into what you’re doing that you barely hear to bell above the door chime, or the footfall that stops shortly beside you. When you drop a book out of the stack you’re holding, and another hand reaches out to pick it up for you- you almost jump.

Rafe. He’s holding the book out, a smirk seemingly carved into his face. You set the pile of books down and take the singular one from him.

“Thanks,”

“It’s no problem, just here to save the day.” He straightens up as you place the final book on the knee high tower you’ve got going. After a Quick Look around, Rafe addresses you again.

“Having a move about?” He smiles, something genuine that almost meets his eyes. Almost. It puts you off.

“Yeah, slow day. Might as well.” He nods, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So, back for that book for my uh, sister.”

You purse your lips. “What book?”

It dawns on you now that he took a complete gamble on whether those previous books would have actually been in here or not. You didn’t particularly choose what books ended up here. Unless he just picked the first two he saw?

Rafe looks deep in thought before he meets your own eyes. “I’m not sure of the name. Something to do with wardrobes and lions, I think.”

“Ah! I actually know what you mean! Such a classic, we have one somewhere.” You beckon with one finger for him to follow you to the isle over, where there’s a sort of theme of children’s and young adult books.

You begin to hum along to the beat of the music as your fingers slide over the different spines and names of books, until it comes into view. Triumphant, you pull the book from its place and hold it out to show Rafe.

He looks utterly puzzled.

“The lion,” you point to the cover. “The witch,” another point. “Anddddd, the wardrobe.”

You see the moment it clicks in his eyes. You also breathe a silent sigh of relief. Your earlier theory had been disproved- that he’d come in here and picked up two random books to excuse why he was here. He came with intent this time.

“Okay, okay. I’ll take this one.” You take it back from him and veer round his frame to the counter, where you scan the books barcode.

“Your total is six dollars.” Like yesterday, he passes you more than he needs to. A ten dollar bill, again, crisp as the day it was made.

“Keep the change.” He smiles as you pass him over the book, but doesn’t move. You wonder if you’ve forgotten something, and he’s waiting.

“So uh,” he brings a finger up to rub his eye. “I’m gonna be at the country club tonight with a few friends, if you’d wanna come?”

The inside of your cheek finds its way inbetween your teeth, and suddenly you’d rather be anywhere but here. Is he asking you on a date? Why would he ask you?

“Not in a weird way or anything- Maysi will be there too, she’s uh, she’s seeing one of my friends and I just thought-”

“It’s okay Rafe. Thank you, really, but I’m okay. I don’t like that sort of stuff.” He nods, looking away to the side. Somewhere in the shop, willow meows and begins to patter towards you.

Rafe’s jaw clenches. Like he’s mad.

“Okay. Worth the ask. Have a good day.” He turns on his heel and walks straight out of the door.

“Wow.” You mutter. What the fuck was up his ass?

You phone rings an hour later. You’re finishing the last of closing duties, willow hanging by the front door waiting to be let out.

Maysilee.

“Hello?” You answer, pressing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you scramble for the keys in your bag.

“You turned down Rafe Cameron?” She sounds incredulous. You can tell she’s somewhere loud, the background noise buzzing through the phone. She mutters something to someone else and turns her attention back to you.

“You’d better have the best excuse ever woman. The poor boy looks grief stricken,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, locking the door to the shop and walking along the board walk with willow.

“Maysi, I’ve had about three short conversations with him. He could be a serial killer.”

She scoffs. Loudly. You pull the phone away from your ear for a second. “- genuinely interested in getting to know you, why do you always shoot down potential men who’re interested?”

The back end of what she’s saying makes you pause for a brief moment. How could he be genuinely interested in you? He knew nothing about you. Nothing at all.

He didn’t exactly seem like the type to want anything other than a fuck either, as much as it made you cringe to think that. Just the way he looked.

“Maysi, I barely know him.”

“That’s how it starts though no? You barely know someone and then you get to know them.” She’s got you there. You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating his earlier offer again, as you turn onto your street. You can see your parents cars in the driveway, and a third one that you don’t recognise.

“That doesn’t matter anyway because you’re coming to the country club whether you like it or not. For me.” Her tone is final. You have no choice in the matter, much like last night.

“May-”

“No. I know you’re almost home now so get changed and I’ll come pick you up.” She’s cute you off and you sigh, small enough so she can’t hear it.

“Okay.”

Maysilee squeals. She bids you goodbye with loads of kissy noises down the phone, happy now she’s got her own way. The promise to pick you up in an hour scars into the back of your brain.

As you open the front door, you can hear your parents talking away with some other voice you don’t quite recognise. You don’t bother to investigate, slipping up the stairs straight into your room where you throw open your closet and debate your options.

Exactly like last night, you can’t wear anything that Maysi will disapprove of.

You land on a white off the shoulder jumper, black skirt, tights and your knee high boots. Hopefully it would pass for Maysilee, despite her obvious distaste to your entire wardrobe.

Showering and getting ready takes up the majority of the hour, and soon you’re sat on your bed waiting for Maysi to text you saying she’s here.

When the text does come through you spare one last look in the mirror, and a longing one towards your bed, before closing your bedroom door and climbing down the steps. Your mother emerges from the kitchen as you reach the bottom step.

“Is that Rafe’s truck outside?” The third voice asks, and your father along with the third man join you and your mother in the foyer.

Is it? You were going to kill Maysi if she’s done exactly what you think she’s done.

Your mother smiles at you, pretending to be warm. “You know Ward, yes? Ward Cameron?”

What the fuck. Too many coincidences were happening. All at once. In the last two days.

“No, mom, I don’t.” Her smile falters. She turns away, effectively dismissing you and you use it as your excuse to slip out of the front door and down your drive. The passenger side window rolls down and you see Rafe sat in the truck, face puzzled.

“Is that my father’s car?” You nod. He leans over, opening the door for you.

Maysilee is nowhere to be found. You curse her- but your options are slim to none right now. You either go back into the house with your parents, or you get in the car with Rafe.

You know which you’d prefer out of the two as you place a boot on the rail underneath his car and hoist up into the seat. You slam the door behind you, placing your bag on your lap.

“Hello again,” rafe grins as he turns the truck on, taking off down the street before you’ve even put your seatbelt on. “I thought these weren’t your type of things,” he adds.

“They’re not. I’m being forced because you gave Maysi a heartbroken sob story.” You bite the words out, looking out the window.

Rafe raises one of his hands in self defence. “I did no such thing. Your friend is very stubborn.”

You scoff, gripping your bag tighter as he swings his truck round a corner without even looking. You sure as hell were not not getting in this death trap again.

“You’re telling me. I don’t want to be here.” You can see him stealing glances over at you every so often and it makes your cheeks flush. It’s embarrassing how little you can get nervous from.

“Well, I think you look very pretty today.” He pulls up into a spot at the country club, turning his engine off. You don’t say anything back, because what do you say?

Instead, you opt for clambering out of the truck and walking towards the entrance of the club, grabbing your mother’s admission card out of your bag to show the girl at reception.

She nods you through and you do so, not waiting for Rafe. You can spot Maysi from a mile off, sat at a table with some guys arm slung over her shoulder.

“Hiiiii!” She squeals when she sees you, proceeding to quirk an eyebrow when she notices Rafe catching up. She doesn’t much about the situation, allowing Rafe to scoot in and pull a seat out for you.

You take the seat, crossing your legs as he takes the one next to you. There’s now five people sat at the table. You, Rafe, Maysi, the guy with his arm around her shoulder and another guy who’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat at you. Weird.

“So, this is topper, my boyfriend, and Kelce, their other friend. Obviously you know Rafe,” Maysi says, taking a sip from her fruity coloured drink. There’s a glint of something behind her eyes as she looks at you and Rafe and you notice how close he’s sat. She tells them all your name but based on the way they react, they already know you.

“Well uh, I’m gonna go get a drink.” You mumble, standing from the chair.

“Me too,” rafe taps the table, standing and following you to the bar. You’re sure you feel the ghost of his hand on your back but it never makes contact.

“What’re you having?” He asks, when you stand bar side. You shrug, looking at all the options for softer drinks. Not a lot. Water or juice.

The cocktail that Maysi had did look quite funky.

“Hey, yeah man, not too bad,” rafe shakes the hand of the bartender who’s come over and spoken to Rafe while you were thinking. He looks back down at you before looking back up and smiling.

“I’ll have a coors and she’ll have a daiquiri, please.” Butterflies settle in your stomach at how he orders for you.

What? No. Ew.

Maybe not ew. You weren’t sure. Maybe he was growing on you. If only you’d hold a conversation with him for longer than five minutes, maybe you’d know. Lots of maybes.

The bartender places a bright red drink in front of you and you grasp it with both hands. “Put it on my tab man, thanks.”

You look up at Rafe. “You don’t need to do that,”

He grins down at you, grasping a bottle of beer in his own hand. “You know what they say, ‘buy me a drink first’,” this time, his hand finds your back and stays planted there as he leads you back to the table. Heavy and thick. He was laying it on pretty hard.

You take your seat again, Maysi busy laughing at something one of the other guys had said. Her eyes flutter down to your drink and she gasps.

“You’re telling me he managed to get you to drink?” Betrayal. Utterly terrifying, betrayal. Laced right into her tone. She points a manicured finger at Rafe who grins lazily back, raising his hands in self defence.

“What can I say? I have charm,” Maysi reaches over the table to swat him but he leans back, laughing when she can’t reach him. She huffs and falls back into her seat, arms crossed over her chest, she turns back to you.

“How was the ride?” It’s her turn to smirk at you, knowing eyes fluttering between you and Rafe. His arm is now slung over the back of your chair, eyes glinting as his friends talk to him.

“He doesn’t know how to drive,” you whisper back, leaning over your drink. You take a sip and can immediately see why she loves them so much. Your comment makes her cackle, clapping her hands.

“Really? That’s pretty funny,” Rafe leans forward, arm still over your chair. He’s all in your space, shoulder touching your own at he stares you down. “We got here didn’t we, that’s all that counts.”

You nod your head, cheeks burning bright red at being caught and Rafe leans back, engaging in his own conversation with his friends again. Maysi is smiling at you behind her hand.

“He so likes you,” she whispers, smile almost stretching to her ears. She reaches over and squeezes your arm as you shake your head.

“He does not. He doesn’t know me.”

“Well, let him know you then. He’s interested in you, it’s so obvious.” Her boyfriend, topper, leans over grinning.

“He does like you.”

You don’t respond, shaking your head and leaning into your drink, cheeks blushing when Rafe’s hand slides down the back of your chair and begins to circle on your back.

Two hours pass when you excuse yourself to go to the toilet. You’ve had a few more drinks than you’d like to admit, and after a few flirty comments from Rafe, you decided it was time for a refresh.

Until someone calls your name, a step away from the toilet door.

“Oh no,” you mumble, turning with a fake, small smile on your face. Tyler stands two steps away from you, arms raised out like he’s coming in for a hug. You dodge, standing with your back against the door.

“Hey, how’ve you been?” You watch his eyes swallow your figure down whole, and you suddenly regret wearing what you’re wearing. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, I’ve been better.” He nods, hair slicked back but he still runs a had through it. He’s looks the exact same. Tall, lanky, dressed like he’s trying to fit in somewhere he doesn’t belong.

“Good, good. I’ve been okay, missed you though.” Bile rises in your throat and you’re pretty sure you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. There’s no one else here you can ask for help.

He raises a hand and you flinch.

“Look, I’m sorry. What I did was shitty but I know you’ve missed me too.” He reaches a hand to your shoulder and grips, harder than he should. You can feel a tear crest over and roll down your cheek.

“What the fuck you doing man?” You’ve never been more relived to hear Rafe Cameron’s voice. Ever. Tyler lets go of your shoulder and swings around in time to be met with Rafe’s fist, straight to the cheek. Tyler’s head swings to the side and he stumbles back a few steps, laughing as his hand comes up to his jaw.

Rafe’s heaving, face flushed red from what you presume is anger, which only intensifies when he takes a look at you. You must look petrified.

You are. Rafe steps around Tyler and to you, taking your shoulder in his hands. This time when he looks at you he looks like he cares. Genuinely.

“Are you okay?” You shake your head and he pulls you into his chest. He wraps around you just right, smelling like woods and leaves and just everything nice that you’d thought he smelled like.

You didn’t realise you’d thought that until you were here. He pulls back, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and walking you past Tyler.

“Good luck with that man, really. Couldn’t get anything out of her and I had that bitch for two years. Might have to look elsewhere if you want a fuck.” Tyler is grinning when you look over your shoulder, cheek red and nose bent. Rafe pauses, hand tightening on your shoulder for a second before he releases you, turning around.

Another crack sounds from behind you but you don’t turn. You hear Tyler stumble back before hitting the wall, mumbling something to Rafe who chuckles.

“She loves sex man, I don’t know what you’re on about. Maybe it was just you.”

Rafe’s arm wraps around you again and he leads you to the foyer. You’re silently crying now, wiping each tear with the sleeves of your jumper. He reaches into his pocket, passing you the keys to his truck.

“I’m just gonna go say bye okay, you go wait in my truck.”

His kindness stills you. He had no need to step in and defend you then, especially not with Tyler. But he did. In a weird way, it warms your heart. He defended you.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad afterall.

You find Rafe’s truck in the car park and unlock it, climbing up into the seat and shitting the door behind you. The silence is defending but doesn’t last long before the drivers door is opening, and Rafe is climbing into the seat. You pass him the keys and he starts the truck.

“Did he, you know?” He asks, voice rough like he doesn’t want to think about it. Rafe’s jaw is locked tight as he pulls out of the spot, turning his full brights on when he joins into the sunlight road.

You sniffle. “He didn’t always control his anger when I said no. I don’t know why I stayed with him.”

Rafe nods, eyes on the road. His hand shifts from the center console to grasp your knee. “I’m sorry. I’m not sorry I showed him what’s up though.” He smiles over at you and you giggle, a little. You notice the way he’s going isn’t the way to your house.

Maybe he is nice. There’s this tinge to him that you’ve seen little bits of that makes you want to know more, and it scares you. Rafe did not look like the type to ever want anything other than a fuck.

He turns off the main road onto a small side street, which soon turns to a dirt track. When you reach the end of it, you’re on the beach. You’d never known this road had existed.

The beach is dark, but you can still see flutters of waves crashing against the sand, and can hear them too. The breeze sways the trees around you, and there’s a little shack off to the left, allowing a little light to sweep out across the sand.

The truck rumbles to sleep when Rafe switches it off. He turns in the seat to look at you.

“I thought this would be better than the club.”

You nod, tears stopping. “Thank you Rafe. You didn’t need to do this.”

He immediately shakes his head, curtains bouncing across his forehead. He looks softer under the light of his truck, lips pressed firm.

“You don’t need to thank me. I physically couldn’t stop myself.” He looks down at his hands in his lap, chest rising and falling rapidly. Almost as if it’s on instinct, you reach over at take one of his hands into your own.

“I’m glad you were there Rafe. I didn’t think I’d be able to do anything.” You look out the window as another wave crashes on the beach.

“He’ll never come near you again.” Rafe sounds firm, and he glances over at you before joining you at looking at the waves.

“I can’t thank you enough Rafe, really. You’ve been so nice to me.” He smiles at you now, eyes locked within the silence. And then you see him leaning closer.

Like he’s going to kiss you. Do you want this? You’re not sure. You still feel like you barely know him. But god damn, if it didn’t make you swell with butterflies when he defended you. Even if you didn’t notice, it did.

But still, you don’t think you want to kiss him. Not yet. You need to know him more. You think. You’d be lying if his lips don’t look really good right now. Full, pink lips that are now inches away from your own.

His blue eyes full are of stars as he closes the gap. And you let him. He kisses like the world’s ending- and the shock of being unsure leaves you stumped for a few seconds before you begin to kiss back.

And god, do his lips feel as good as they look. His had reached around the back of your neck, threading into the hair there as he pulls you closer, your own hands creeping across the centre console.

When his other hand comes up to cup your cheek, you whimper. Quiet but embarrassing, it makes Rafe pull back and search your eyes.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, looking away, bottom lip between his teeth. He’s heaving, lips swollen and eyes glossy as he stares out the window.

You can only imagine what you look like. He turns back, eyes searching your face again, and you’re sure you can see a debate sparking to life behind them.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, pulling you back for another kiss. This one is feverishly fast, hand on the back of your neck pulling you further towards him. When his tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you gasp, he pulls back again.

“Tell me to stop. Now.” His hands withdraw and you sit there, blissed but confused. Your heart is beating so far out your ribcage.

“What- I don’t-” you begin, but Rafe just scoffs, turning back round in his seat and starting the car.

“I can’t do this to you. Not here, not now. I’m taking you home.” You pull back over the console, taking your original position on the passenger seat. Rafe’s jaw is clenched, and the few glances you do steal his way he’s still the exact same. He speeds towards your house, not once looking at you.

Your brain is running a thousand miles an hour. You’d been the one who hadn’t wanted to kiss him- and now that you had, he was the one regretting it? He showed interest first. Maysilee had literally said it herself.

The breaks squeal as Rafe pulls up outside your house. No surprise your parents cars are once again gone.

“Thanks, Rafe.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door, climbing out. Rafe doesn’t even properly wait for you to shut the door before speeding off down the street, leaving you just as confused as you were in the car.

Authors note ᯓ★ whew! Rafe might be having second thoughts after seeing what she went through with her ex?? Who knows <3 let me know what you thinkkkk (also I picture Maysilee as maddie from euphoria!!)

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aliciastarkeyy · 3 months ago

Text

Fools gold

Summary ᯓ★ uncool, typically ‘nerdy’ and unseen by most, your life on the island is pretty simple. Until Rafe Cameron begins to pay attention to you.

Warnings ᯓ★ swearing, the motions of a ‘bet’ being made, wagers, fake love, one sided love, fighting, eventual smut. ! not proofread !

Authors note ᯓ★ title is inspired by ‘Fools Gold’, specifically the version by Niall Horan ♡ this will be a series, hopefully! I don’t want to cram everything into one part ✮⋆˙

Word count ᯓ★ 4,867

part2⟡ part3⟡ part4⟡

Ruth’s bookshop goes unnoticed by many who pass on the boardwalk of figure eight. The quiet, quaint little shop filled to the brim with all different genres, so much so that some are piled on the floor- is a beautiful place to work.

You love it. There’s plants in any places that they would fit, soft Melodic music fluttering around.

And the smell. Gods, you loved the smell. This place is your version of heaven, and the fact that you get paid to organise the books, read them, and serve the occasional customer as they come and go is amazing.

Willow, the bookshop cat, a tiny tabby, is also an extra. She makes for great company when it stretches hours between customers, or when Ruth isn’t in the shop- which admittedly, isn’t often anymore. She leaves you alone to run the shop most of the time, off spending time with her family.

You don’t mind spending most of your time here. After college, a gruelling four years studying literature in California, you welcomed the salty sea air of Outer Banks with open arms. A break, you’d called it.

But since you’d started working in the bookshop, the break had become a little more… permanent. To the displeasure of your parents of course.

‘You can’t work in a bookshop for the rest of your life,” or ‘I spent all my money on your degree and this is what you do with it?’

Your parents weren’t exactly the best, or the most supportive. Years upon years of them barely paying attention to you, shoving you into the arms of a nanny and trying to buy you off with expensive things, college tuition included, did them no favours.

Maybe this was you rebelling. A big ‘fuck you’ to your mom and dad, for feeling like you only existed to them when it was beneficial. Here’s what I’m going to do with my degree: nothing.

Today is an exceptionally slow day, aircon on full blast as willow rolls around on the counter looking for love. You’re nose deep in a book about nature cycles, patting the cat every so often as she rolls her head to the side for your scratches.

You reckon you’ve had around five customers, and the slowness on days like this sometimes makes you wonder how Ruth keeps the shop going. It serves as a gentle reminder that she’s rich, just like your own parents, when she stops by the shop sometimes, adorned in expensive clothing and accessories.

Sometimes you wish she were your mother. She’s always super nice to you, acting in ways your own mother couldn’t.

The bell above the door chimes as it opens and you perk up, eyes over the edge of the book. Willow hips off the counter to see what’s happening, rubbing up against some of the shelves. You see nothing but a tall mess of brown locks disappear behind one of the shelves, and you let your eyes fall back to your book.

If they need you, they’ll ask. The book you’re reading is getting particularly interesting, anyway. You can hear the slight patter of willows feet following whoever is in the store, and they’re getting closer to the counter.

“S’cuse me,” A voice interrupts your reading. It sounds oddly familiar, and you bookmark your page before placing your own book on the counter. A smile traces your lips at the sight of the books placed on the counter.

As long as the lemon trees grow and The Nightingale. Two utterly moving books, ones that had made you cry. A little.

A glance up at their purchaser has you doing a slight double take internally. The guy stood in front of you- of whom you knew you recognised, briefly, now you think about it, is Rafe Cameron.

He was in your year in school for most of the high school life until he suddenly just stopped turning up. And as you look at him now, he looks exactly as you remember. Floppy curtain bangs, piercing blue eyes that you’re sure you’d caught across the canteen a few times- kakis and a polo with a fleece.

Same guy. He grins lopsidedly, head slightly tilting to the left. “Done observing me? Can I pay for my books?”

Your cheeks nod and you grasp for the books, turning them over and fumbling with the scanner. You sure as hell weren’t one to judge but these did not seem like his type of book.

To be honest, he looked like he’d never read a book in his entire life. The memories of being sat in the library and listening to countless tutors trying to teach him simple scholarly lessons flashes for a second as you scan the second book, and you conclude. These are not Rafe Cameron books.

“Your total is fifteen dollars today,” you reply, letting the sentence linger in the air as he searches for his wallet. He picks a twenty dollar bill out, crisp as the day it was printed, and places it on the counter.

“Keep the change,” you nod and push the twenty into the cash register, watching as he picks up his books and begins to walk away. Just like that. One of your weirder experiences with a former class mate, but you’d take the short interaction over a stupendously awkward one anyday.

“Have a nice day,” you call out as he reaches the door, and he hesitates. Your fingers furl around the hard cover of your book as he turns and you immediately regret saying anything. Fuck customer service.

��Yeah, I think I will.” The door bell chimes as he steps out into the heat of the boardwalk, and you’re confused as ever. Certainly an interaction at least.

Ruth messages you at about three o’clock asking how many customers you’ve had. When you respond with six, she tells you close up shop and go and enjoy your day.

How ironic, considering the rest of your day that you’d planned consisted of going home and curling up in bed for a nice nap. You wrap up closing, leaving the till draw in the safe and locking the back room. Willow meanders by the front door, knowing exactly what time it is.

Usually, she’ll follow you all the way home, almost like she’s making sure you get home safe, before wandering off to presumably join her friends. When you open up on a morning she’s sat on the front step of the shop, waiting to be let in and fed.

She meows at you as you do your final once over of the shop, before joining her at the door and crouching down to her.

A scratching behind her ears makes her purr. “You’re excited to go see your friends, huh?” Her eyes glint as if agreeing and you laugh to yourself, standing straight and opening the door. Willow filters out onto the path. You flip the open sign around to say closed and grasp your keys, shutting the door and locking it.

An exasperated sigh leaves someone behind you. You turn, pulling the key out of the lock.

Rafe Cameron. He’s got that cheesy grin on his face again, books held under one arm as the other is reaching back, scratching at the back of his neck.

“Closing?” He asks, as if it isn’t the most obvious thing in the world. You quirk an eyebrow, jingling the keys in your hand.

“Yeah. You’ll have to come back tomorrow. Returning them already?” You query, causing him to laugh, breathily.

“Uhhhh, no actually, I just forgot one,” his arm falls to his side, waiting. Like you’ll open the store for him again just for one book.

“What, those two very complex and thick books won’t still you over until tomorrow?” The annunciation on the words makes him flinch, despite his best efforts to not show so. You see.

“Okay, okay, no need. They’re actually not for me, they’re for my sister,” he tuts, looking to the side, down the board walk. “You know, it doesn’t matter, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He turns. Slowly. Like he’s waiting.

“Okay! Bye,” willow meows as you begin to walk in the opposite direction towards your house, and you hear him stutter.

“What? You’ll won’t even open back up for one book?” He sounds incredulous. It makes you giggle, dropping the shop keys into your bag. You glance over your shoulder, to see him a few feet from you, obviously having moved.

“No. It’s not worth the effort of reopening everything. You can come back tomorrow.” Your hands reach up to readjust your toe bag strap on your shoulder, setting a slow pace down the board walk with willow. She pads inbetween your legs, purring and rubbing up against each leg.

Your house is empty when you arrive home. No surprise there. The high ceilings and white marble of the front foyer mimic something of a liminal space, to you at least. There’s pictures on the wall, the few that your parents had taken with you and of you to make the place feel more homey.

It was far from. Since you grew out of the age of needing a nanny, it was mostly just you in the house. The occasional times your parents would be home, they’d be in their bedroom sleeping, or in their offices working.

There was no family here. Your room, in your opinion, was the only room of the house to have any life, any character. Most of the walls were lined with bookshelves, of course, and your messy bed that you hadn’t made this morning sat in the center of the room. There’s two big bay windows right across from the bed, overlooking the beach and ocean that had convinced your parents to buy the house in the first place. It’s a mixture of greens, all walls and carpets and beddings- the only colour in the house.

It was your space. You drop your bag into your desk chair, huffing a strand of hair out of your face as you loosen it from the claw clip you’d had it in all day. Sinking into your bed, it doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

The days evens play back in your mind as you drift off.

Your phone rings again and despite your best efforts to silence it, the noise does not cease. A groan falls from your lips as you lift your head from the pillow, hands grasping around the edges of your phone, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness of the screen.

Maysilee.

She’s ringing, for what feels like the fiftieth time, and you roll your eyes before swiping to answer and bringing your phone to your ear.

“Hiiiiii! What’re you doing right now?” Her sweet, high pitched voice trails through the phone and you pull it away from your ear for a second, before bringing it back.

“I was asleep,” her tut is immediate. Despite being your best friend, the two of you could not be anymore different. She liked parties and shopping and looking like she belonged in money all the time and you liked books, sleeping and pretending you didn’t exist to the world.

“Why sleep when you can come to my house for this get together?”

“Maysi, no. You know I don’t like stuff like that.” A tut again.

“Cmon, you never come! It’s only a few people I promise.” You can hear her manicured nails tapping against a glassy surface of some sort, and that she’s in one of those moods where she won’t take no for an answer.

If you did say no, she’d turn up at your house. That’s just the type of person she is.

“May…”

“Look, no ifs or buts. You don’t even have to drink. Just come and hang out with me.”

You weigh out your options. If you say no, you’re going. If you say yes, you’re going. It’s a lose- lose on your end no matter what.

Reluctantly, you sit up in bed, checking the time on your phone before bringing it back to your ear. “Okay, sure. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

The squeal she makes is enough to shatter glass. “Finally! See you soon babe, love you.” She hangs up almost immediately, giving you no time to change your mind.

Half an hour from now would be seven. Clambering out of bed in the same clothes you fell asleep in, you trudge over to your closet. You weren’t exactly the type to be flashy with your clothes. Or revealing. The most you’d wear is a skirt, but even then it’s a decent length and you have tights on.

You opt for a brown sweater and black skirt, knowing if you turn up in anything else Maysi will be directing your straight to her own closet and forcing you to change.

Once you’re changed, you re clip your hair up and out of your face before slipping into your shoes that you usually wear, a pair of Mary Jane’s. It’s now fifteen minutes until you said you’d show up, and you debate changing your mind and just not going at all.

Maysi would kill you. Like she knows you all too well, a text from her pings on your phone reminding you to turn up or else. A threat. A promise of threatening actions.

Maysilee is not someone to fuck with. The air is slightly colder when you step out of your front door, a breeze sweeping through the trees and bushes that adorn your front garden.

You’re suddenly thankful that Maysi lives a few houses down. When you arrive, there’s a few more cars outside than you expected and a ‘few’ people lingering out on the front garden.

A little get together. You should have known.

Maysi’s house is warm. In the sense that she has lots and lots of family memories around, and the house looks like it’s lived in. It makes you envious. Maysi greets you in the foyer, pulling you through her house to the kitchen, the island in the middle simply stacked to the brim with different types of alcohol.

“Now, I know you said no drinks, but how about one?” She grins at you and beckons towards the extensive array of drinks.

“Maysi, no. I’ll just have some lemonade or something.”

“Boo. You’re boring. You’re lucky I love you though.” She boops your nose with one manicured nail, arm wrapping around your shoulder as she leads you to the soft drinks section of the island.

One lemonade later and an abandonment by Maysilee, you find yourself out in the back garden. There’s a lot less people out here than in the front garden and the house itself, the conversation quiet and mulling along the same level as the best of the music in the house.

You know this garden like the back of your hand, Maysi’s mum loving her garden like a child. It’s full of flowers, and ornaments, and you know there’s a secret little seating area hidden behind the gazebo that you can’t see thanks to the wall of trees.

It makes a perfect place to hide out until it’s an acceptable time to go home.

“I’m telling you man, she’s gonna go right for it. He’s got this irresistible charm with women,” a male voice, slightly chopped through the trees. The guy is stood in the gazebo, and you can see the top of another head stood close by.

It feels wrong to eavesdrop, but you’re not really, if you think about it. They’re having a conversation in a public space and you just so happen to be nearby. And interested.

“Nah man, I don’t think so. From what he’s told me about today, she’s got some wit about her. I don’t reckon she’ll fall so fast.” The other guy responds. You wonder what, or who, they’re talking about.

“You reckon? Well, we know what I’ve bet on,” poor girl. Whoever these guys were, and the mystery third guy who seemed to be playing with some poor girls feelings- you felt bad.

Another third voice calls the two guys away from the gazebo and you wrinkle your nose as they begin yelling, quietening as they further away from the gazebo.

The stars are out tonight. It’s easy to see them here when there’s no light pollution, and they’re beautiful. Having lots of time to read books means you’re quite clued in on a lot of things, and constellations are no exception.

“Pretty cool aren’t they?” You recognise the voice. Rafe stands at the edge of the little seating area, looking upwards too. He’s dressed in jeans and a simple brown shirt, hair seemingly groomed into neat side bangs instead of the unruly ones you’d seen him in earlier.

You take a sip of your lemonade. “They’re not so bad, I suppose.”

Rafe smiles, hands finding home in his front pockets. “Say, do you know any names of those… star configurations?”

You splutter on your lemonade. “Star configurations?”

“Yeah, can’t remember the word.” He quips, moving to one of the seats near your own.

“Constellations, That’s what they’re called.”

“Yeah right. That word. Do you know any?” He grins, pulling a bottle of beer from seemingly thin air.

You point upwards, at a set of stars that look slightly like a sand timer. “That one that looks like a sand timer is Orion. Named after the hunter from Greek mythology.” Rafe leans towards your side slightly, looking for the area you’re pointing towards. A small ‘ohhh’ escapes his lips when he notices it.

“Cassiopeia is that weird ‘W’ looking one. Named after the mother of Andromeda.” You point towards another.

Rafe nods. “Guess you’ve got a lot of free time in that book shop huh?”

You blush, a little. You’re thankful for the guise of nighttime to hide the fact that you’re blushing to begin with.

“Yeah, I guess.”

He takes a swig from his bottle, slightly turning towards you. You notice how much closer he’s really got, and shuffle back on your seat.

“So what’re you doing here? Doesn’t really seem like your kind of place,” you scoff. If only. Why else would you be sat outside on your own?

“It’s not. Maysilee forced me to come.”

“Ah. Makes sense, she’s a.. character, that one.”

A snort slips from you and you cover your mouth of sheer embarrassment. Rafe chuckles, one hand rubbing up and down his thigh.

“You’re half telling me, she’s my best friend. I get that twenty four seven.”

“My condolences.” Rafe expresses, holding a hand over his heart. It makes you giggle, hiding it behind a sip of your lemonade.

“Thanks Rafe, but don’t you have better places to be?”

“No better place than the present.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure those books aren’t for you?”

Rafe raises his hands like he’s been caught. “Got me. Just trying to impress the pretty lady at the bookshop.”

Your heart stutters. Stops, if you must. Your cheeks heat again, and you’re sure if you couldn’t feel the thrum of your pulse in your neck you’d be dead.

You don’t know what to say.

The awkwardness of the situation has you pulling at the cuffs of your jumper, lemonade cup long forgotten on the seat next to you. Like he can sense your discomfort, Rafe backtracks.

“Sorry, sorry. Too forward. I won’t take it back though, cos’ it’s true.” He stands from the seat, chugging the rest of his beer. From where he’s stood now, you can see the glint in his eyes.

Like there’s something else there. The same glint you used to see when you’d catch his eye in high school. When he was doing something he shouldn’t be.

“See you tomorrow, bookshop.” The pet name grates the back of your throat. You’re stuck the suspended silence of the downhill run of the end of the conversation even when you reach your own home, and your room.

Sleep does not come so easy tonight.

Authors note pt2 ᯓ★ phew ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ really enjoyed writing this, did it in one sitting. Hoping to churn this series out I have so much planned pls let me know what you think/ if you like mwah ꩜⋆

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