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recklessandsweet · 12 days ago

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good and plenty ｡𖦹°‧ r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x oc (kendall abbott)

summary: kendall's dream class that she's a TA for this semester is crashed by her one night stand from the summer that was almost too good to try to forget. but maybe she shouldn't forget, because rafe surely hasn't.

word count: 8.5k

warnings: language, mentions of sex, flittery attitudes, that's about it for now!

lily said: this is the establishing fic for the ficlets that may follow, I hope you love kenny and her little life as much as I do <3

g&p masterlist

Hughes hall had become a second home to Kendall. Home to most of the political science and sociology classes she had taken during her time in college, as well as most of the professor’s offices she frequented. Sometimes, she got so sick of the route to the building that she tried other ways to get there, just to break up the monotony. Don’t take the back entrance way or ride in on a lime scooter, take it from her.

Professor Eleanor Spaulding had quickly become the apple of Kendall’s eye. A freshman year seminar on critical studies had her hooked, staying after class to learn anything she could from the accomplished woman. Spaulding was a lawyer, a retired judge, and a tenured professor that had been published 40 times over. Not to mention, she was one of the few professors that looked like her. A badass, unapologetically herself, woman of color. How could Kendall not be obsessed?

Walking through the marble halls, Kendall took a deep breath, centering herself before entering Spaulding’s office. With a gentle knock, she opens the door ever so slightly.

“Not expecting anyone else, you can come in,” Her voice flows through the crack in the door, making Kendall jump into overdrive.

“Good morning,” She says brightly, spine straight and laptop clutched to her chest. “I’m a bit early.”

Spaulding shrugs. “10 minutes. Not anything crazy. Make it a habit, because to be on time is to be late.”

Kendall nods quickly. Her parents always told her that too, it wasn’t harsh or stressful. She knew she was going to have to work harder just to get the same things as others, that’s unfortunately how the world worked. She was prepared, she was hungry for it.

Spaulding looks up with an amused smile from the paperwork in front of her.

“You nervous?”

Kendall wants to lie. She wants to present confidence, she always did. But this was a big deal to her, so she doesn’t. “Yes.”

Spaulding nods. “I remember my first time being a TA. I was a junior though, scrawny too.”

“I’m just grateful you trust me with this,” Kendall breathes, “Ethics in Modern Media was my favorite class last year.”

“How could I not trust you? Best exam I’ve seen. I might be your mentor, but it’s good to have an impressive mentee as well. Give yourself credit, Kendall. These kids smell fear.”

She finally smiles, maybe laughs a little. “I really appreciate it, Eleanor.”

Eleanor. First name basis. Unlocked that over the summer. Kendall could die happy.

“Grade some papers for me, lead a lesson or two, and trust me, I’ll write any letter you want.” That was the point of all this, after all. Yes, Kendall loved having this legend as a mentor, but also, she had asked Spaulding to write a recommendation letter for her. She was applying to law school, to Harvard Law. Spaulding was Valedictorian of her class at HLS, and a very generous alumni donor. This was major, on all levels. A semester as a TA, and a career path in front of her she’s desired since she could talk. Things couldn’t be better.

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Rafe woke up late. So late, stupidly so. He was up so late on the phone with his youngest sister the night before he forgot to set his alarm, meaning he was looking at his clock that said 9:21, and his calendar definitely said he had a class at 9:30. Shit.

He practically flies out of his bed, cursing under his breath as he pulls on sweatpants and a hoodie. Doesn’t even brush his teeth, just uses mouthwash and considers the rest of his morning routine to be done later. He couldn’t be skipping the first day, it already took him double the effort to focus and the stigma that he didn’t even have to because of his background. Too bad that couldn’t be farther from the truth, he actually was carrying the Economics department’s GPA. Sure, he had a promising job in New York lined up for him after completing a successful summer internship, but Rafe knew there was life beyond clocking in and crunching numbers. The silver spoon was in his mouth, he knew that, and knew having purpose beyond that mattered.

The house is silent, his housemates probably still asleep or already about their days. If they’re asleep, he’s not sure how long they’d stay that way, seeing as though he was bumbling down the staircase, searching for his keys in the bowl at the front entry. 9:27, he’s fucked. Class was across campus from his house, he’d be lucky if walking there got him to Hughes at 9:50. Driving it is.

Except, now, he can’t find a parking spot. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he seethes, seeing every space taken. He could just double park someone and hope they don’t have a class before his is over. Maybe someone with a student placard so he doesn’t piss off a professor by accident. Finally saying to hell with it, he swings his BMW in front of a Jeep that had a student placard hanging from the rear view mirror. He’s only in this class for the next 35 minutes, plus groveling to the professor about how sorry he is to be late, so this would have to do.

He bursts through the front doors of the building, practically running to the lecture hall. Rafe slows down before opening, not wanting it to be any more of a spectacle, or for someone to acknowledge who he was and somehow make this even worse. He even holds his breath as the door opens, praying it doesn’t creak. It does.

His professor, Professor Spaulding, as seen on the presentation projected above her, turns her head toward the door. With a smirk, she decides to fulfill his greatest fear. “Late on the first day, and you pick the creaking door?”

Rafe flounders. Of course, because she was the only person talking at the moment, all attention was now on him. He opens his mouth to profusely apologize, but nothing comes out. She fills the air for him, anyway.

“Just sit down.”

He plops into the first seat, the one closest to the door. Some stares linger, more girls than guys. It’s not a huge class, maybe 60 students. Could be worse. He tries to take it in stride, opening up his notebook to write down any important notes from the syllabus being projected. He still wrote everything by hand, whether it be notes, outlines, anything of the sort. It helped better than being distracted by anything on his laptop.

“Going back to the grading aspects of this class, much of your grades will come from seminars, participation in recitations, and a final paper. That’s right, you’re gonna need to start engaging in class for once. How terrible!” Dejected murmurs and some forced laughs from kiss ups trying to gain favor follow. “The recitational discussions will be led by either me or my wonderful TA, Kendall Abbott. Get used to her lovely face, you’ll see her a lot. And need her on your side, too, because that final paper of yours might end up in her hands instead.”

In quite possibly the worst aspect of this entire situation, Rafe doesn’t have to get used to that face. He already knows the face, and had been thinking about it consistently for the last 3 weeks. The girl he hooked up with, and then never heard from again, was his TA. And she was refusing to look in his direction.

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“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Definitely can, should, must, even.” Samira adds to Malia’s rebuttal.

Kendall’s friends were urging her to speak to the boy that had eyes on her the entire time they’ve been in the party,

He wasn’t like her exes or situationships, he was tall, blonde, and had blue eyes she could even see from this far. Wasn’t really her type, but he had something about him that was attracting her just from his energy, and the confidence he carried himself in.

“You ever been with a white boy?”

“Malia,” Kendall scolds.

“So, that’s a no?”

“And that’s a fine white boy,” Samira says with a small laugh. “I’d do it.”

“Then do it.”

“Bitch, he’s not staring at me, he’s staring at you!” Kendall rolls her eyes. When she looks back at him, he’s glancing over, meeting her eyes with a slight smirk. The party was being thrown by one of Malia’s fellow interns, some girl from Chicago whose parents had swung her an apartment with a rooftop for the summer. As the summer wound down, the girl invited the entire cohort to the rooftop, urging everyone to bring a friend or two. It was hot out, liquor was abundant, it was a perfect end to New York summer.

“He’s tall too,” Malia shrugs. “We’re only in New York for one more week, come on.”

They were right, this party definitively ended their junior year corporate summer internship, sure, but still corporate. It wasn’t everyday that all three friends swung great jobs in the big city, and the summer had been both challenging and amazing. Kendall takes another big swig from her drink, trying to earn some more confidence. And when their eyes meet again, she doesn’t look away.

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There was a line to speak with Professor Spaulding. People introduced themselves, asked clarifying questions about the syllabus, and then there was Rafe, who was about to apologize like never before.

“Professor Spaulding,” he begins. “I’m Rafe Cameron. I just want to apologize for coming in late, no excuses for that. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, it’ll never happen again.”

Spaulding quirks her mouth in clear amusement. “Don’t promise things you can’t keep, who knows if you’ll get a flat tire or something next week?”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. She’s fucking with him, right?

She lets out a gut laugh. “Oh, you’re a jumpy one aren’t you?” He thinks he’s sweating through his sweatshirt. “Just set an earlier alarm or something, alright? And seriously, use the other door. That creaking sound pisses me off.”

He nods profusely, stepping out the way so that the next person can begin speaking to her. However, when he steps out of the way, he realizes he’s now in front of Kendall.

She’s making herself busy with papers that have no writing on them, but her eyes are on them like they hold the Rosetta Stone. Rafe chuckles.

“So much for not seeing each other again, huh?”

Kendall’s mouth is running as soon as she walks through the front door and sees Malia on the couch. “I’m fucked.”

“Getting fucked?” Kendall looks at Malia with pure exasperation. “Sorry. I’ll try again. What’s wrong, pookie?”

“Rafe is in my Spaulding class.”

Perhaps Kendall should have had a camera on her best friend’s face. Her jaw drops and eyes bulge, a true gasp leaving her. “Wait. Rafe?”

“Yes.”

“New York white boy?”

“How many Rafe’s do you know?”

Malia ignores the sass. “He’s in the class?”

“Yes, and came late so now Spaulding uses him as her little punching bag running joke. I know her, it’s endearing to her and she’s going to end up fucking loving him and I’ll be-”

“Slow down,” Malia stops her, “Did you speak to him at all?”

“He did, I just kinda froze.” So much for not seeing each other again, huh?

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“You’ve got a staring problem.”

He smirks. “Definitely do, can’t seem to take my eyes off of you. Think there’s a song that goes like that, right?”

Kendall can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of her at that. Fuck, this dude is perfect. A Ms. Lauryn Hill reference? Fuck. His teeth are white and shiny, his mouth had that delicious smirk that made her know just how smug he probably was. She could see his build through his shirt, and he looked quite familiar with the gym. Not to mention the glistening watch on his arm, one of the ones in her dad’s catalogues. “‘M Rafe.”

“Kendall.”

“Pretty name. You named after Roy or Jenner?” Oh, he’s funny. She likes this.

“Jenner lifestyle, Roy mentality.”

She gets him to laugh at that, and when he throws his head back slightly, she gets a good look at his next. Fuck, even his neck was sexy.

Rafe’s not faring any better though, not at all. He did have a staring problem, contracted it when Kendall walked in the room. She had walked in already laughing at something her friends had said, face bright and eyes glowing. Her hair was pulled back in a tight, precise, ponytail, but he could tell she had so much of it. He was taller than her, he was taller than most people, but she wasn’t even that much shorter than him. Maybe it was the skirt she was wearing that made him a bit stupid. Her legs looked great in it, that much he could say.

Kelce had teased him for it. “If you don’t talk to her, we’re gonna be entering Joe Goldberg territory.”

“Can’t just walk up on someone like her,” Rafe argues back. “She’d laugh right in my face.”

“She might,” he shrugs. “Totally possible.”

“Not helpful.”

“Well what do you want me to say when you say that?”

He decides to use that prior conversation as ammo now with Kendall.

“You know,” he starts,“my friends over there totally thought you’d laugh in my face when I came up to you.”

Kendall’s eyes flick to where he’s pointing, to two boys who are trying not to act like they’re watching them.

“Them?” Rafe nods. “Well, I think I would have laughed at the striped one.”

Topper’s sporting a pink and orange striped button up.

“Everyone does.”

Throughout the course of their conversation, they moved from the corner of the room to the back patio, where they’re both comfortably sitting on chaise lounges. This was a nice apartment in the city, definitely the girl’s dad’s property she was staying in for the summer. That’s how parties went here, you hear from a friend of a friend where it’s happening and show up. Well, that’s at least how these two understand it, seeing as though neither of them knew who the host was, both invited on behalf of someone else. It’s from this that they realize both of their invites came from friends from university. And what they also realize is that they are enrolled in the same university, in the same year.

“I’ve never seen you around.”

“Rafe, our school has like 40,000 undergrads.”

“But, still. You’d think we'd cross paths?”

Kendall frowns. “Probably not, I mean, you’re a money guy, I’m pre-law. Haven’t taken a math class since freshman year. Honestly, I bet we’ll never even see each other after this.”

He rears his head back. “Well that’s up to us to decide, isn’t it?”

He’s looking deep in her eyes when he says it, which maybe he shouldn’t be, because it clearly spooked her a little bit. Not in a coming on too strong kind of way, but more of the realization that he just met her, keep it fun why don’t you?

Rafe decides to redirect. “So you’re doing a public relations internship, but you want to be a lawyer.”

She shrugs. “Well, it’s not like they’re hiring people who haven’t been to law school to litigate, now are they?” She’s so sure of herself, so witty and quick. She’s perfect, if you ask him. “And if Goldman likes you, you’ll be coming back here next year?”

“Maybe not New York, could be Chicago, maybe Charlotte. I like New York, though. Different vibe from home and I like that.”

“Where’s home?”

“The Carolinas, ever been?”

She smiles. “My grandparents vacation on Hilton Head.”

“Timeshare?” “They own, thanks for the supposition.”

Rafe’s cheeks redden. “Oh, well I didn’t mean it like-”

She cuts him off with a big laugh. “Oh, you’re so easy to freak out. Relax, Rafey.”

“Rafey?”

She shrugs again. “Sounds cute, no?”

“We’re at the level we have nicknames?”

She looks at him in a way that makes his stomach turn with nerves of excitement, her eyes low and smirk growing. “And what level is that?”

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“You’re never gonna believe who my TA is.”

“I don’t even know how I’d begin to guess that.”

Kelce laughs from the kitchen island, and Rafe rolls his eyes at his other roommate, Alex. “It’s Kendall. New York Kendall.”

Kelce coughs through the sip of orange juice. “Oh shit.”

Rafe scrubs tired hands over his face, not in the mood to be dealing with this extra level of predicament. It hurts someone’s pride to wake up to an empty bed, absolutely. It hurts more when you were thinking something more could have happened between you two, most definitely. Definitely hurts the most when realizing your grade is in her hands.

“Wait, this is the one from that rooftop party?” Alex hadn’t been in New York for the summer, nor did he grow up in the Carolinas like Rafe and Kelce did. It was more of a stroke of luck that the three of them became friends, chance meetings in a business calc class their first year that bonded them by struggling through exams together.

Kelce hums affirmatively through another swallow of juice. “Yeah, it is. She still hot?”

“Are you-yes!” Rafe incredulously shouts. “It’s been like 3 weeks, you don’t just become attractive like that.”

“Uh, yes you do. Seen it with my own eyes.”

Disregarding his point, Rafe moves forward. “I hate awkward shit.”

“It’s only awkward if you make it that,” Alex offers. “Just be cool.”

“Exactly, just gonna be a little weird. But like, it’s college, what’s not weird and awkward? Everyone’s got something.”

Rafe stops pacing. “True.”

Alex shrugs. “Not everyone’s slept with their TA, but-”

“How’d you turn this back into a terrible conversation that quickly?”

Kelce laughs at that, unable to not poke fun at his friend’s misfortune. “Serious question though, you think it’ll happen again?”

Rafe’s face is one of confusion. “What, me and Kendall?”

Kelce gives him a look. “You said it was good. Great even. She kinda rocked your world.”

“She’s my TA.”

Alex scoffs. “And?”

Exasperation probably best fits Rafe’s mood at this point, but truly, what did he expect to come out of asking these two for advice? He might as well ask Topper next. Well, he didn’t even really ask, he was just ranting. But it did beg the question, what would happen between them now? It’s not like he wanted a relationship, but they both had chemistry, that much was evident, and were more proximal to each other than originally thought. But she also ran out on him that morning, and he’d be lying if he said that didn’t hurt his pride. And he wasn’t in the market to get it hurt again, especially by the same girl. He knew when to hold things, but absolutely when to fold.

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It wasn’t often that Kendall woke up in a bed that wasn’t hers. She actually preferred going back to a guy’s place anyway, because it was easier to leave quickly than to try to get them out in the morning. When she and her friends went to the party last night, she had no idea she’d meet Rafe, hit it off with him so well, kiss him for God’s sake, and let it escalate to this. One night stands? How sophomore year of her.

He had a strong arm over her body, warm and smelling like cedar. His breath was tickling her ear, slow and deep, he was still totally knocked out. But what would happen when he woke up? Would he regret it? Look at her differently after having sex on the first meeting? Guys were awful like that sometimes, as if they weren’t ½ of the guilty party. Or would he be on the other end of the spectrum, wanting her to stay and have breakfast? Oh goodness, would she meet the roommates?

When it comes to fight or flight, she’s a flight risk every time. Not that it would even be a fight, maybe that metaphor doesn’t even apply to her, she considers. Regardless, she’s leaving.

Shifting Rafe’s arm, she switches her body with the pillow that was once under her head. Luckily for her, Rafe’s the heaviest sleeper in New York City, and he only shuffles to hold the pillow tighter with a snort and a sigh. With a breath of relief, she hops around his room, finding her clothing from the night before. Oh God, she’s gonna be on the subway in a mini skirt at 9:30 AM.

When she finally gets all her things together and her second shoe on her foot, she looks back at him, sprawled across his large bed. This apartment was ridiculously nice, he easily came from money. Or was making a shit ton of it already at Goldman. Probably both. She winces looking back, but shakes off the remorse and heads toward the door. She gives him the courtesy of closing his bedroom door once again, heart beating a bit faster at the sight of new pairs of shoes on the rack in the front entryway. Other people were home, it was absolutely best she got the hell out now.

Praying the door locks behind her, she exits out the front, cascading down the walkup stairway like the future of her freedom depends on it. Once on the sidewalk, she squares her shoulders once again, and joins the pacing of the other people on the sidewalk. This is just a fun story to tell, she thinks to herself. Don’t feel bad, you won’t ever see him again.

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Samira had come through the front door complaining about her day, stating she was in dire need of a drink. “That weird girl they just hired is even weirder now, left me all the stuff in the back to unbox. Like, 50 boxes of sweaters and coats. Unreal.”

“Perfect, Kenny needs a drink even worse than you do,” Malia chuckles from the stove, as Friday was her day for dinner duty.

“Oh? What’s wrong?”

“Rafe is in Spaulding’s class this semester.”

Samira looks at Kendall when she says this, head in her hands as she stares at something on her laptop. She did that a lot, talked to the two of them without looking up from her device. She was probably looking at a document or application or something neither of them would be able to understand, she buried herself in work when she got stressed. Malia and Samira share a look, one that reads, ‘this is not good.’

“Oh,” Samira can’t think of much to say, because what do you even come up with for something as awkward as this?

“Well, luckily as a TA you’re just reading assignments and stuff, right? Unless, oh no, is this a recitation class?”

“He’s in my section.”

“Oh.” once again.

“Yeah.”

Kendall continued to type whatever, and work on whatever on her computer, making Malia huff. “Close her laptop, Samira.”

“No, Malia, I'm working on something,” Kendall protests.

“Sami, close it.”

Ignoring Kendall’s whines, Samira shuts the device, moving it to the coffee table instead of their dinner table, where they’d soon be eating.

Malia wanted Fridays for cooking, against what everyone else would have expected, because she liked the idea of everyone getting a good meal in them before going out for the night. She was pre-med, she’d know best what the best thing was before hitting the bars.

She makes them burrito bowls, all the toppings laid out in front of them to pick and choose what they’d like to add to their respective bowls. “Kenny,” Samira starts out lightly as they all settle into eating.

“Yes?”

“You know Rafe being in your class isn’t, like, the end of the world, right?”

Kendall looks up from her tortilla chip pile she was forming on the edge of her side plate. Malia looks on with a small bit of fear, hoping this conversation went across well. This is how it always was, kind of the beauty of a three person friend group. A triangle is the strongest and sturdiest shape, after all. There was a good level of checks and balances, and a mediator if needed. Not for arguments, they hardly argued, because they kept open communication in times like this and situations like this. It worked, they were lucky, and that’s why they held onto each other so tight. Best friends that truly knew you inside and out were special, and the girls were grateful for it.

“Well I never said it was,” Kendall refutes, a bit defensive.

“Sure you didn’t, but you’ve been in a way since you found out. Which, I’m not saying isn’t allowed, it is a weird situation.”

“But it’s only as weird as you make it,” Malia supplements. “Just don’t give it air time or energy and it won’t be a thing. You give things power, just don’t give him any.”

Kendall takes in their words, then sighs deeply. “It’s not even him that’s the problem, I think it’s me.” Her friends look perplexed. Rightfully so. “I left the apartment and didn’t say anything to him or even give him my socials, completely ghosted. The next time we see each other, he’s in the class I’ve been waiting to be a part of ever since I got the acceptance email. I think I feel bad?”

“Guilty?”

“Guilty,” she repeats, a sign of agreement with the emotion. “But I don’t even know why, guys do this all the time with no issue.”

Malia swallows a spoonful of rice. “You’re better than a man.”

“Truth,” Samira agrees.

“Do I apologize?” Kendall’s friends share a look across the table.

“Like, to Rafe?”

Kendall shrugs. “Yeah? Just to make sure there’s no animosity or anything?”

Samira chuckles a little before crunching through a chip and some salsa. “You’re such a little goodie good when you want to be.”

“Enough, Sami,” Kendall groans. They always teased her that she was the nicest one of the three of them, the other two being a barbie and bratz to Kendall’s fairy. It was true, it just didn’t need to be repeated so often.

“Ignoring her,” Malia jumps back in, “not a bad idea at all, Kenny. Do what you need to so you stop buffering like this. It’s freaky, totally not like you. And I want you to have a good time at the bar tonight! We’re seniors, it’s time to have fun.”

She’s right, Kendall knows she is. So she puts herself in a cute little skirt and an even smaller top, doing her makeup to the tune of Latto and SZA and everyone else on her i’m outside playlist.

Their school is big, the surrounding city built around the institution. Living in a college town felt like a snow globe to Kendall sometimes, the way that everything in the town was centered around the university, and every single resident was either a student, alumni that never moved away, or people employed or being benefited by the university. It was a weird little slice of life, especially for her big city self (A Los Angeles girl, born and raised,) but it was fun, and she was happy with the little life that she’d cultivated in town.

A part of this little life was the premiere bar for students that were actually 21, a dive bar called Scooter’s that had a bouncer in the front that used to work in the counterfeit industry. Ben the Bouncer, or rather BB, as the girls affectionately called him, was anything but affectionate when a fake came across his path. He was strict, but was a big softy, the girls found out once they were finally on the right side of legal.

“BB, please tell me you guys restocked the gummy bear snacks,” Sami whines as they finally make it to the front of the line to enter.

“Just got a new box in the back, not that I should even let you know that. You’re the main reason why we have to order a new bulk box every other month.”

Sami gives him a saccharine smile, dimples deep. “Then don’t offer free snacks if you’re not gonna let me eat them!” It was a small dish they gave to each group of patrons that landed at each standing table, they were only supposed to have one dish full for each group of people anyway. Sami usually cleared the dish three or four times.

BB rolls his eyes and motions for the girls to go inside, and more importantly out of his sight.

Scooter’s was the definition of a dive bar. Old decorations that looked like you’d better wash your hands after touching, bathrooms that clogged at the hands of less than three squares of toilet paper. The music was controlled by a modern version of a jukebox near the bathrooms, a preordained catalogue of music scrollable on the machine’s screen.

“Play that one Kehlani song you put on yesterday, Kenny,” Malia says over Kendall’s shoulder as she eyes the options. The two girls were on music duty while Samira broke the seal, which was definitely debunked and unrealistic. Not that it changes how it feels to have to constantly pee when going out, it was probably more mental than anything.

Kendall searches meticulously through the computer’s library, attention focused on the task ahead until feels a poke at her back. “I’m going as fast as I can Lia! This thing is old.”

“No, no look,” she says, poking harder. Kendall turns to where her friend directs, stomach jumping when she realizes Rafe has just walked inside the bar. He’s flanked by the two boys you remember seeing in New York, of course he’d be the one to stand in the middle.

“Shit,” she hisses, heart beating a tad faster than it was a second ago. “Since when does he come here?”

“We’d have seen him before, we’re here every weekend.”

“Exactly! Did I mention this place to him in New York? I compromised Scooter’s. I ruined the oasis!”

The girls are dramatic, if you can’t tell.

“What’s the problem?” Samira says concernedly upon seeing their faces. “I didn’t think I took that long.”

“Rafe’s here,” Malia supplies, making Samira’s mouth turn into an “O.”

Samira quickly takes both of their hands, the trio disappearing deeper into the bar. Scooter’s was like one long hall, the bathroom connecting the front end to the back. It was silly, Kendall supposes, that she’s hiding from him, but all of this happened today, can you blame her? It’s been 12 hours since the plot twisted in a way not so much in her favor, the dramatics are probably going to continue.

“Gin and tonic, please. And maybe double it?” She bats her eyes at their favorite bartender.

“Bombay or Beefeater?”

Kendall scoffs. “Am I made of money, Carlos?”

Rafe sees her instantly. Of course he does. Well, he sees a flip of a ponytail, but it was the same ponytail that began haunting him this morning. Hm, haunting was a strong word. He enjoyed seeing this ponytail immensely, and the girl connected to it. Maybe it was haunting, since it was the only thing he’s seemed to think about today.

He moves on autopilot. Topper and Kelce don’t follow closely, honestly not interested in getting involved in antics. They couldn’t convince Alex to come out, he was seeing some girl and in that honeymoon phase of preferring whatever she wanted to anything he could think of. But Topper didn’t need to live with them, or be there for prior conversation, for him to easily put two and two together what had Rafe moving without explanation. Rafe had spent the whole afternoon finding ways to bring her up without trying to sound bothered. Kelce had snapped when Rafe asked for the third time what he thought would happen if he dropped the class, Alex had given up when he said for the 5th time, “this is all crazy coincidence, right?”

Although, in his defense, he had no idea that she’d be at Scooter’s. They didn’t come here much, a lot of the times on a night out they’d go to a club or a party. With Topper being a year younger, this place was basically off limits until this year anyway, unless they abandoned him or he had his own plans.

“Okay, don’t be her shadow, man.” Kelce says, very much not wanting his friend to go out sad tonight.

“‘m not,” Rafe says, a bit embarrassed. Fuck, is that what this looked like? He just wanted to be in her orbit, is that crazy? Oh God, it probably was, seeing as though she was the one who left him. Oh no, he was being creepy, wasn’t he. “Fuck, maybe I should leave.”

“Woah, that’s not what he meant,” Topper stops him.

“Like at all,” Kelce laughs, “I meant just play it cool.”

Rafe squints in internal turmoil. “She probably doesn’t even want to speak to me, being realistic.”

The boys share a look. What the hell just happened to Rafe Cameron?

He was nothing like he was in high school, and even then, he wasn’t that bad. He was respectful, the Carolinas seeping out of him with every ma’am and thank you that left him. He had his fair share of female attention too, and he was never one to kick people out the morning after, always one to hold doors and buy flowers. But above all of this, he had charisma. Charm, aura, whatever you want to call it, he had it. His friends envied it, really. Maybe it was due to being raised with two sisters, maybe it was in protest of how rotten Ward could be when he felt like it. But questioning himself was something he never did.

Kelce dares a look back, in which he catches Samira’s eyes. She looks away quickly, whispering something to Malia. Kelce smirks.

“She wants to talk to you.”

“What?”

“Trust me, she does.” Rafe’s not sure what to think, or if he believes him. “Just play it cool. Get a beer in you, queue a song or two.”

He’s right on that, he does need a beer.

“I’m biting the bullet.”

“You’re what?”

“I’m gonna talk to him.”

“You and these metaphors,” Samira mutters, “but good girl. This is good, get it out the way! There’s totally worse bodies to have.”

“Exactly! He’s fine. Sexy even. Honestly, why not spin back?” Malia’s not wrong, not in the slightest. Truthfully, Kendall hasn’t thought too deeply about that yet. Her brain went into panic mode, afraid of awkwardness or tension in the class and opportunity that she had nearly mythologized in her head. But this was college. Her (not so) fake little degree, in her fake little college town, with fake little problems. She never wants to be the wound up girl that’s wound up tighter by school or her career, so she’s going to have some fun. Tipping her head back and finishing the G&T, she turns on her heel and makes her way over.

Rafe grips the neck of his beer bottle tighter ever so slightly when he realizes she’s walking up to him. It brings a smile to his face, a bit of relief that his spiraling thoughts were just that. “Wow, running into you all the time now, proving you wrong is kinda fun.”

Kendall’s face feels a bit hot. If she knew their paths would cross this much out of nowhere, maybe she would have woken him up before she left. She just didn’t like the awkward cutoffs and aftermaths, she truly thought she was doing good by both of them. In reality, it was more of a moment of a woman being in men’s fields.

“Definitely was wrong,” she concedes. “Hi Rafe.”

“Hi Kendall.” Pearly whites on full display, he’s so fucking cute. Sexy. Malia’s right to use that word. She feels bad.

“Look,” she starts, fidgeting with a belt loop on her skirt, “I’m really sorry.”

He looks a bit surprised. “Sorry?”

“I definitely could have done things better in New York, I feel really bad about it and for not explaining myself.”

He’s caught on now, as is visible by the clarity in his current expression, a polite smile. “You don’t have to apologize, Kendall.”

“I do, at least for my own sake if not yours.”

“I’m not mad or sad or anything.”

“I’m your TA, Rafe.”

“I’m not gonna report you for workplace misconduct.”

She huffs. “Stop. Seriously, I am sorry. You’re a cool person, I just, I don’t know. Don’t do well with hookups and the aftermath.”

Don’t do them then, he thinks in his head. Just in his head though. In reality, he says, “We’re all good, promise.”

“Great,” she breathes, seemingly to calm herself down.

“Amazing.” A beat or two passes of them just standing, looking at each other. “So, how was the end of your internship?”

She flinches with a bit of a laugh. “Okay, I’m not doing small talk with you.”

“Why? Thought I was a good conversationalist. Think you said that, actually.”

“This isn’t really a conversation.” Well, it is.

“Hm, I think it is,” he fake ponders. “But you are my TA after all, so you probably know a thing or two more than me.”

“Are you just trying to be contradictory?”

“If I am, it’s working. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be this easy to rile up. Also something you’ve previously said to me. Hey uh, nice poker face, by the way.”

“I’m not riled up, don’t get excited. And, speaking of being your TA, do you always come to class late? Would be good to know when considering your participation grade.”

He cocks his head. “Not your jurisdiction, pretty girl. I actually read the syllabus, you’re only responsible for my submissions and recitations. Which, am I in your section?”

“You think I know that?”

“I’m sure you looked.”

She sucks her teeth. She did look. He’s in her Wednesday section.

“Anyway,” she pivots, making him smirk. I won. For once. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

He laughs a bit in his chest. “You own the place?”

“Practically,” she sasses, looking around. “BB loves me.”

“BB?”

“Ben. The bouncer outside. Which, me knowing his name and you not proving my point clearly.”

He fakes an eye roll. “I forgot, you’re pre-law.” She preens a bit, both in comedic fashion and in true blushing of the reminder that he also has memories and a point of view from that night. As much as he shared, she did too. Ugh, she can’t imagine the things he must have felt, and probably talked about with her friends. He has sisters, she knows how girls can get, and she knows that he’s probably well equipped in the art of the groupchat, most likely composed of the two boys he was with more often than not. “Hey uh, Kendall?”

Hearing him say her name both snaps her out of her thoughts and sends a chill up her spine, and other sensations down into other places. “Yeah?”

“I think your friends want something.”

She looks over to Malia and Samira, who are doing an uncharacteristically bad job of eavesdropping. Sami’s phone camera was angled undoubtedly, and Malia was leaning earfirst in their direction. “Unbelievable. Come on,” She mutters, grabbing his hand. Oh, he’s gone, he’s certain.

Seeing the pair walk up, Malia and Samira make themselves look deep into conversation. Attempt to, really. “Kenny you’re back!” Malia says, fake shocked.

“Say hi to Rafe,” Kendall ignores their terrible facade, willingly plunging into awkward introductions.

“Right, from New York!”

“North Carolina, but I get what you mean.”

“Oh,” Sami’s eyes light up. “I’m from Charlotte.”

Rafe’s head tilts with interest, peering at Kendall. “Didn’t know that.” He’s teasing her. This was a bad idea, she’s willing to call this whole “be fun and flirty” thing off again.

“Not you’re gatekeeping our lore, Kenny,” Sami scolds. “Isn’t she selfish?”

“Answer that and perish.” She looks at him definitively, the implications of the look being something he could already understand.

It’s sick how easily he flows into conversation with her two best friends. He keeps up with the jabs, knows enough humor and running jokes from social media to follow Malia’s references. Him and Sami bond over their undying love for Rod Brind’Amour, and all Kendall can think about is how easy this could be if she let it. It doesn’t have to even be anything, actually. She can just have fun. What a mantra this is becoming.

And maybe that’s why she begins to lean into him ever so slightly. Rafe noticed when she seemed to be closer to him than she was before, and knew he wasn’t losing his mind when he felt her arm graze his finally. It’s certainly why he leaned right back into it, the two of them eventually establishing a position where she stood slightly in front of him, his hand near her waist.

Thankfully regaining a semblance of home training, Samira and Malia gradually fall into their own conversation, leaving Kendall to turn into Rafe.

“Not sure how you drink beer. It’s bread water to me.”

“You just haven’t had a good one.”

She looks down at the bottle. “At least it’s a corona.”

Rafe tilts the bottle toward her in an offering manner. “Have a sip.”

She shakes her head vehemently. “Bread water.”

“Don’t yuck my yum, pretty girl.” Pretty girl. He’s insane.

“‘Yuck your yum.’ Where’d you learn that phrase?”

“My sister is 16, remember? Wouldn’t be hurt if you didn’t.”

“I do,” she fights back. “And your other sister is 20. I know a thing or two.”

He gives a look of respect. “I underestimated you, something I’ll never do again.”

“Glad you’re a fast learner,” Kendall grins, biting her lip ever so slightly. Her chest was nearly in contact with his, peering up at him with gorgeous eyes highlighted by the slightest bit of glitter and mascara amplified her lashes to the perfect flutter. It made him all a bit stupid, really, as shown by the way his hand barely kept strong when she plucked the beer bottle out of it. Taking a sip of his beer, she swallows before wincing. “Just like putting dough in a blender with a gallon of old water.”

“Ouch,” he recovers. “You didn’t have to get so creative, you know.”

“Right, sorry, your yum won’t be yucked any further.” She must be delusional already, because his smile makes her feel like this is their first inside joke. She wouldn’t know now, but his mind is reciprocating that very thought.

“I’m not gonna lie,” he starts before leaning in, the bar around them getting a bit louder. “Thought you hated seeing me today in class.”

Ugh, her face is hot again. And not even in the good way. “No, it wasn’t like that,” she’s quick to say. “Just, definitely was not expecting it."

“Me neither,” he shrugs. The hand that graced her hip twitched a bit with his words, then sat firmer on her hip. She decides she likes the feeling. She can feel his breath on her neck as he speaks into her ear, “but I’m happy it did.”

Her grin is wolfish at his openness to express continued interest in her. If it was the other way around, she’d probably have told him off 6 different ways by now, so she’s at least grateful that he’s not as stubborn as she is.

Then, her alarm goes off. The stupid fucking alarm, aptly named ‘Go home, sleep, and dream of a 170.’

She had LSAT class in the morning, something that her and her family had invested a pretty penny into, with hopes that she’d get that 170 she dreams of. It was sacrifice on a Saturday morning, but it was necessary evil. And, it was only for another month.

“Getting a call?”

“No, it’s an alarm,” Kendall mutters, shutting it off. “I have to go.”

Rafe’s eyebrows furrow. “Go? Are you Cinderella?”

“LSAT class in the morning. Pre-law, remember?” She grimaces sarcastically.

“Oh. Shit,” he winces at the thought of the exam. Shit is right, she thinks. But it’s worth it, the alternative of doing badly on the exam is something she’d never want.

“Yeah so I uh, have to go home now. And go to sleep.”

Kendall’s charming like this. She’ll be flirtatious, those eyes vixen-like and words sweetly saccharine, but at the next moment, she’s giggly and awkward. He met her and fell under a trance quickly in the summer, and then sees her in a classroom as a determined TA come a few weeks later. It makes it apparent to Rafe that she’s got levels, layers, a personality he wants to get to know better. If she’ll let him, that is.

“Guys,” Kendall calls to her friends, to which they look away from their own conversations, “LSAT.”

Malia groans. “Bedtime for Kenny.” It’s a fake groan, she doesn’t actually feel dejected, but Kendall still feels bad. Well, not bad, but it’s just a moment of noticing how much her friends attend to her, and how grateful she is for their support.

“Stay,” she says without a second thought. “It’s just bedtime for Kenny. Not for y’all.”

“You’re not walking home alone, don’t play.”

“I’ll walk her,” Rafe offers.

Samira and Malia look at him with surprised eyes, and so does Kendall.

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“It’s 12:30 am.”

“It’s a 5 minute walk.”

Kendall purses her lips. “Fine, can’t argue too hard on safety.” She bids the girls goodbye with a hug each, choosing to ignore the smirks on their lips.

Upon walking out, she turns back to Rafe before they hit the doorway. “You don’t need to say bye to your friends?”

“No,” he says quickly with a bit of a laugh. “They’re busy.”

“Ew.”

He winces. “Not like that,” he opens the door for her as they keep going, how chivalrous. “Kelce’s got this back and forth thing going on and Topper most likely left by now.”

“Hm, so a situationship and a loser.”

He stops walking, down the sidewalk, looking at her with a hint of incredulousness. “You always this mean, Kenny?”

“Kenny is crazy.”

He shrugs. “That’s all I’ve heard you be called tonight.”

“You’re not my best friends.”

“Nicknames have to be unlocked now?”

“Sure they do, Rafey.” He opens his mouth and she beats him to it. “Only your sisters call you that. See what I mean? Now, will you actually walk, please?”

He proceeds forward, and they continue their strides toward her house.

It’s a nice house, it fits the girls that live in it. Small, but not inhabitable. Cozy looking. There are flower beds on the porch, visibly tended to. “Who’s the gardener of the house?”

“Sami,” Kendall answers. “I’m more of a spring flower girl, easier to take care of than the fall and winter. Samira’s got a green thumb though, it’s amazing.”

“I like your friends,” Rafe says cooly, stopping at the last step before the doorway.

“I’m sure you do,” Kendall laughs while turning to face him, “They’re chaotic.”

“They care about you a lot.”

Kendall smiles warmly. “Definitely real friends, I know I’m lucky to have them.”

The porch light that flicked on at the sensing of someone walking up the steps halos her frame, casting a warm light around her hair and the figure of her body. He liked her outfit today, a small top with some well fitting jeans and a pair of boots that looked like they cost something substantial. Her purse was expensive too, Rafe didn’t know much, but he knew the word jacquemus couldn’t be cheap. The boots did something for his height advantage on her, she was maybe only a head and a half taller than her now. But he liked it, but then again, he liked her.

“Thanks for the walk home, Rafey.” She’s a bit coy now, hands in her back pockets, hip cocked slightly. “‘M all safe now, worries are over.”

“Glad to see it,” he says, equally coy. Does he give a hug? Woah, a kiss? He’s a step below her, but still close enough to touch if he wanted to.

“All things aside, I am happy to see you again.”

“Good, I’m pretty sensitive, you know.”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, I remember. You cried when I bit your shoulder.”

“I did not cry,” He quickly retorts, feeling cheeks blazing. He’d rather not delve into memories of the two of them that night, kinda reserved those for the spank bank only.

Kendall snorts. “Water in your eyes was coming from the sky or what?”

Rafe scoffs, looking away from her playful eyes. His own eyes dart back in front of him when he hears the heels of her boots descending down the staircase one more time, now directly in front of him.

“Look,” Kendall starts, hands still in her back pockets, rocking back on the backs of her heels as much as these Steve Maddens allowed. “I’m not gonna make this weird.”

“Us?”

“Us, me being your TA, it’s chill, you know. Well, can be chill. I want it to be chill. Need it to be.” Her turn for her eyes to look away, brain visibly spiraling.

“Right, it’s chill,” Rafe repeats. “We’re good.”

She gives him a grateful smile, lingering in his direction before clearing her throat. “Awesome. Now, bed.” Kendall’s eyes widen when his eyebrows raise teasingly. “Bed for me,” she clarifies.

She climbs the steps, pulling her keys out the zipper of the purse and lodging them in the door. “Goodnight Rafey.”

He grins, eyes catching their own whispers of sleep in the corners. “Night, Kenny.”

When she closes the door, her mind is a bit blank until she makes it into her room. As she washes the makeup off her face, the night flitters through her mind, ticking at the kind looks Rafe sent her, the boyish grin with the playful eyes. She wouldn’t mind being looked at by him, and walked home a few more times as well. Maybe he’d be let in one day, maybe the whole excursion would be him inside from the beginning.

Rafe tries not to think about it, not letting himself dwell in fear of fixation. But Kendall was going to be firm in his head for a long time, he could feel it. It was in the way she walked, talked, and held her own, something that felt like if he wasn’t on his A Game at all times, he’d be out of her world quickly. But he didn’t want to be gone anytime soon, plus, he had some homework to turn in for her on Monday.

#hope u likeeeeeeeeee!#I had fun with this :)#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #oc #x oc #black writer #black reader #rafe cameron x oc

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