by IsYourH3artTaken


One Is Bigger Than Any Other Number in the World

I'm with riding with Dad today on his way to one of his higher end jobs, the kind that only the richest of the rich have the salary to pay for. It takes us to the center of the Figure Eight, everything bright in color and idealistic that I roll the window down all the way there just so I can get a better look at it all. This is what people here marvel over? Fancy golf courses, perfectly cut lawns, and fine dining? It doesn't make sense. How does this make them any better than everyone else on the islands?

When we park in the visitor's space, Dad unloads all his tools from the bed of the truck and I help him carry it inside to the kitchens where they say the damage is. Tucker is with us and judging from the offended expressions on people's faces, I'm guessing they don't like pets inside their lobby. But no one tells us we have to take him outside so I make sure he stays close to my side, bouncing his favorite yellow tennis ball up and down on the paisley printed carpet while I roam around and check out the dining room and patio where you get a wide view of the whole course.

I have to admit, it's beautiful.

After an hour of waiting, I assume that Dad will be in there for most of the afternoon so I decide to head outdoors and explore more of the grounds. Tucker is ecstatic, bounding ahead of me and I throw his ball once we reach the grass, watching him charge after it.

It's fun out here. And I'm totally not saying that because I envy these people but it's the best place to play fetch with Tucker, enjoy the open sky and spend time with Dad all at once. If only Mom can be here too.

I stroll down the trail, scanning around to see where Tucker went and my heartbeat stutters when I think that I may have lost him. The rick folks will really yell at me now... especially if he ends up digging holes around the golf course.

But then a familiar bark breaks through a line of thick shrubs and I hurry over before he can escape.

"We don't want you here. Got that?"

I freeze at the voice, right on the other side of the bushes.

"Stay off Figure Eight, pogue."

I push my way through the leaves and tiny branches, revealing Topper standing on the path wielding a golf club with another figure striding back up to the course behind him. Is that... Rafe Cameron? I slowly step out further, Tucker following in my footsteps, and gasp when I see Pope lying on the ground. Blood gushes out of his mouth and Tucker runs over to him when he clutches a hand to his side and groans in pain. What did they do to him?

Topper is about to follow his friend but then his head whips up at me and he freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly. Panicking, he glances back and forth between Pope and me, sputtering for an excuse. "I didn't- I mean, we-" He tries to explain but gets interrupted by Rafe calling for him. Now I get it.

They did this. They hurt Pope.

My fingers clench into fists and I glare holes through Topper, but he only grows more anxious by the second. He probably knows that it's clear as day what happened and that they have a witness. I should tell someone... I should tell everyone.

Will anyone believe me? Probably not on this part of the island.

Before I can say anything Topper swallows thickly and turns on his heel and rushes to catch up to Rafe, who waits for him on the hill. They stomp away without looking back once and I make sure they're completely out of view before scurrying to help Pope from the ground. Tucker is already licking the wound on his forehead.

"River?" He squints up at me. "What- what are you doing here?"

"My dad's here on a job," I say. "But forget about that, are you okay? What happened?"

"They wanted my grocery delivery. This is what they did to get it."

"They can't treat people like this. It's not right." I grab onto his hand with both of my own and pull him to his feet. "I'm starting to hate them."

Pope brushes sand off the front of his shirt. "Yeah, you and me both."

The bags he was carrying is ripped to shreds so I stack as many items as I can in my arms and walk with him to where he's supposed to drop it off. He doesn't say much the whole way there and I guess there's really not much else to explain. The answer is simple: he was attacked because he's a pogue. But the fact that Topper and Sarah's brother are guaranteed freedom after assaulting someone like it's nothing and Pope feels like he can't talk about it or tell anyone is just so sick. But that's life here for the blue collar people living in the Cut.

I'll never forgot what I saw, though, and I'll make sure Topper knows that.

After Pope makes his delivery and gets his money, he shuffles back to the front doors of the gold course lobby with me but stops abruptly right at the bottom of the stairs as if an glass wall is keeping him away.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride back to the dock?" I ask.

Pope shakes his head. "Nah, I came here with JJ." The bruises along his eyelids and cheekbones are starting to swell into a faint purplish hue now, but I try to stare too much at it. I don't want to remind him of what happened and make him feel bad... even worse than he must already feel.

"Okay... well, if you guys change your mind I'll be waiting over here for my Dad."

"Thanks, River... and hey, don't tell anyone what happened here, okay?"

"I won't."

"Not John B and especially not Kiara."

"I swear, Pope, I won't."

He lets out a soft sigh of relief then and I frown at the near defeat etched all over his face, but I can't bring myself to him for not wanting to push back against those jerks. Maybe in his mind, it'll do nothing except make his life hell. And deep down... I think that's right.

It makes me so angry.

I wave goodbye to him and watch on as he lumbers away toward the docks. Tucker barks after him as if saying 'bye' himself and I lead him around to the entrance door, finding Dad talking to the manager (why does every uppity person wear a suit?) by the check-in desk with his tools already packed up and ready to go. Wow, he worked fast today. It probably helps that he's surrounded by some people he hates.

"You disappeared on me," Dad says while he stores his tool boxes in the bed of the truck. "Mind telling me where you went?"

The tone of Dad's voice makes me pause; it's not invasive or suspicious but simply curious with a hint of that fatherly concern that gruff guys like him only know to show. I usually stay with him during his jobs and I kind of wandered off longer than I wanted, so I guess that made him worry a little.

"I ran into a friend," I reply, letting Tucker jump into the backseat before hopping in.

"One of those kids down from the Boneyard?"

"Yup." I peer over at him when he doesn't say anything right away. "They're not bad people."

"I know they aren't. I was one of them."

I smile at his words. "I'm sure there's some good ones in the Figure Eight, too. It's such a huge place... I mean, they can't all be like those country club people, right?"

Dad lets out a small chuckle then, one arm hanging out the rolled down window as he drives us back to the marina, but his laughter doesn't sound like he's trying to disagree. Just skeptical. "It might be a cold day in hell when we see that, kid."

If it was any other day, I'd think he's falling into the bitter side of his personality but that's not at all the case anymore, not after what I saw at the golf course earlier. Granted, the Figure Eight is enormous with more people than I can count, the good half of my brain wants me to think that they all can't be cut from the same cloth. From what I see, Sarah Cameron isn't like that... neither is Kiara.

But that's only two people.

I think about this on the trip back home and it's nightfall when my sneakers finally touch familiar soil, but when I go back to the sanctuary of Dad's apartment all that's in my brain is Sarah's brother and Topper ganging up on Pope, the cruelty of their actions and how they left him bleeding on the ground.

And I start to think that maybe Dad is right.


On Tuesday afternoon I'm back with Mom and we're at the grocery store stocking up on stuff that the storm sucked us dry on. Dad lives like the stereotypical bachelor so when I'm with him we don't really eat the healthiest, at least not by Mom's standards and now I'm at Mom's house again it's that purely organic, eight servings of fruit and vegetables a day kind of stuff. But Mom doesn't say no whenever I sneak a packet of Red Vines or Skittles in the shopping cart. Not always.

We're in the deli section when my cell phone buzzes in my pocket and I slide it out, tapping on the new text message notification.

Kiara

Movie date today?

I smile and type back a reply.

What time?

Kiara

In an hour. Come by my parent's restaurant

I double check the time stamp in the corner. It's only two-thirty so that gives a little leeway to finish shopping with Mom and have her drop me off at the Carrera's, that is if she'll let me go.

Are the boys going? I message her.

Kiara

It's just JJ and Pope. It'll be fun, I promise.

I believe what she says but maybe that's one of the various effects Kiara has on people. She can be really persuasive when she wants to and that's how I found myself neck deep in trouble so many times before with John B and his gang, but I guess I'm the real idiot for going along with it. Just one of the many trials and tribulations of being in high school, I suppose.

I tap back my answer.

Okay, for sure count me in.

Kiara

You better not stand me up :)

I glide my phone back into my pocket and face Mom at the frozen meat aisle. "Kiara wants to hang out tonight."

"Kiara Carrera?" She clarifies and I nod. "It's been a while since you've talked to her. How's her parents doing?"

"I think they're okay. They still have their restaurant."

"They're good people," she says with approval. "Did you say you were going?"

"Can I?"

"Yeah, go enjoy yourself. No later than eleven o'clock, okay?"

I beam at her, leaning up to kiss her cheek. "I promise."

She smiles back, leaning her head against my own and we resume checking off our grocery list, pay and load it into the trunk of the car all in time for us to drive further into the Cut where the Carrera's have their restaurant. I hug Mom goodbye before unbuckling my seatbelt and hopping out, seeing her wave at Mr. Carrera in the doorway. He's always been one of the more reserved residents of the Cut but I understand why; he just needs to look out for his family first. He's fairly nice to me, though.

I have no idea where this movie is or what's supposed to be playing but I'm definitely prepared. It's never a buzzkill unless I have candy and Mom let me buy extra at the store to stash in my canvas bag, so I'm ready for anything. Well, just about.

Kiara grins when she sees me and I wonder if she thought I would ditch her. I know a little bit of what happened between her and Sarah Cameron, but what I mostly know is that it took Kiara a long time to get over that. If she's fully over it. After the kooks cast her out, it must have felt like another heartbreak to lose a friend like that. I'm happy she's letting me be hers.

"I'm so glad they're still doing this," Kiara says when we're approaching the lawn where the projector is set up. "Keep calm, carry on. Back to OBX life, you know? Aren't you glad I made you come?"

"Ecstatic," Pope deadpans.

"My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest," JJ adds in.

"I don't even know what this movie is," I confess. "But yeah, I'm hyped."

"Why is River the only one who appreciates my ideas?" Kiara chides to the boys. They roll their eyes and busy themselves with laying out the chairs, mumbling back and forth to each other and I won't be shocked if they're coming up with some kind of grand scheme again. What can they even do in an old outdoor cinema?

"I'll get us some drinks," Kiara announces and walks off toward the vendors.

I peel open a packet of Red Vines then and nibble away at one, waiting for the movie to begin, but two pairs of eyes gawking at the side of my face makes me slowly turn to the boys and I see them staring at me like they haven't had anything to eat all year. Why do guys always have the stomachs of bottomless pits?

Sighing, I offer them my whole candy stock in which they don't hesitate to dig into, while I make myself more comfortable on the grass, sitting with my legs criss cross and check my phone for new texts. There's a bunch from Nalyssa. She's visiting her extended family in California this week and every day she sends a picture of something new she discovers. Whether it be a place or a type of food she snaps a photo and shares it on our group chat with our other mutual friends from school.

"Just saw Rafe," Kiara returns then and passes the soda cans to the boys. I smile when she hands me my favorite cherry coke. "And he said, and I quote, 'tell your boy that we know what he did.' What is that?"

My eyes fall to JJ and he almost chokes on the candy I gave him. "Um... where is he?"

"Right there."

All four of our heads crane to the back of the crowd then and in the middle, sticking out like a rainbow, are Rafe Cameron and his two friends. The sight of them makes my blood boil, especially after what they did at the golf course. Why can't they leave Pope alone? Are they seriously planning to do something to him again in public? I'll tell someone what I saw for sure if they do. I'll tell everybody.

I'm not sure what good that will do but at least Topper will know he's not the perfect boyfriend people think he is. I look away first, bringing my legs up to my chest and hope the rich boys grow bored of this event and go back to whatever trust fund soiree they came from.

"Great, the whole death squad!" Pope exclaims.

JJ slaps the top of his head. "Don't stare, bro!" They turn toward the blank movie screen again and I don't miss that glaze of panic in their eyes. "Just warning you, bro," JJ murmurs. "If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now."

"Please don't use the-"

"If that doesn't work, I got this right here." JJ cuts me off and brandishes his knapsack then, the bottom drooping with significant weight.

"Oh, god," I whisper, my forehead falling to my knees.

"Yeah, yeah," Pope agrees. "We just gotta stay in the group. They can't get us in the group."

"Like a school of fish."

"Stay in the school, can't leave the school."

"I'm sorry, JJ-" Kiara interrupts their chatter. "Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here. JJ, there are kids!"

"No, Kie, I didn't bring the gun. Everything's fine, okay?"

Kiara's expression hardens and she stares at JJ right in the eyes. "Wow, thank you, that's very convincing. I love that, JJ."

"So... what's in there?" I ask, gazing at the brown bag then back up at JJ. I pray he has a good alternative than a handgun or better yet he's only bluffing and didn't bring a firearm at all to a public park, but he pauses for a long time. Not a good sign.

Kiara catches on when JJ refuses to say anything. "Founding principle, you guys. No secrets amongst pogues," she declares. "What is Rafe talking about?"

"Kie," Pope leans toward her. "It might go down tonight."

"What does that mean? 'Might go down tonight.' What did y'all do?"

JJ presses his lips together, shooting Pope beside him a desperate glance and the two seem to take a vow of silence over their actions. Neither of them expand on why or how the rich bullies followed them here but I have a pretty good guess why - it must have something to do with the golf course incident but Rafe and his friends did enough damage. Why come back? Unless something happened after that.

The movie screen cranks up then and black and white opening credits begin to roll. It's one of those grainy flicks made during the old wars and from the sound of the music blasting through the speakers I can tell this is gonna be a cheesy one. But I think this is a horror movie and those go perfect with candy.

"Look, JJ, it's you," I whisper and point when a caveman-like creature emerges up on the screen. Pope presses his fist against his lips to keep from laughing and I hear Kiara giggling next to me.

"That's real nice, Braverman," JJ hisses back, chucking a popcorn kernel at me.

I smile and throw him an M&M which he catches and pops in his mouth. The movie keeps us entertained for a long time and since they're really old ones the run-time is short, so by the time the sun sets beyond the bushy tree tops, they have already started their second film choice. Some kind of battle movie.

"Hey, where y'all going?" Kiara murmurs when the boys rise from their chairs.

"We gotta wring it out."

"You gonna hold it for each other?"

"They probably do it all the time," I say when the two dash off into the bushes and Kiara smirks.

The candy has long been devoured so I fill up on the remaining soda Kiara brought me, watching old school aliens and scientists wage war on each other.

"Hey," Kiara whispers, shifting in her seat. "Have you talked to Rafe at all?"

"Sarah's brother? No, why?"

"He asked about you earlier, like what your name was and where you lived. I didn't tell him anything."

"That's weird."

"Yeah, I wouldn't go anywhere near him if I were you. He's the worst."

I definitely believe her. But still knowing that forms this thick and heavy knot in my gut, glued in place by all the sweets I just consumed and my mind is flooded with thoughts of what I did to have Rafe Cameron ask about me. Maybe it's not important. It's not like we'll ever cross paths like that anyway. We're from two different universes. What do we honestly have in common?

My knees knock together and when I check the clock on my phone it hits me that it's been ten minutes and the boys haven't come back yet. My stomach drops and I scour the rows of heads for any sight of them. Rafe and his friends are missing too.

"Oh, no," I whisper and Kiara looks at me in alarm. That's when I hear it: shuffling coming from behind the projector screen and five blurry outlines punching each other. "Kiara, it's them!" I point to the location and we both jump up, sprinting around the field before anyone can realize what's happening behind the screen. Before JJ and Pope really get themselves hurt.

Topper has Pope in a headlock and my heart nearly gives out at the sight of JJ being held back by Kelce with Rafe driving his fist into his cheek over and over again. Kiara starts wailing on Topper, bashing JJ's knapsack over his head and on his back so he'll let Pope go.

"Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!" Topper pushes Kiara away with one hand and flings JJ's bag across the lawn, and she retaliates by jumping on his back. "Topper, stop!"

"Hey, listen, Pope. All you gotta do is accept personal responsibility!"

"Screw you, kook!"

I look around at the park grounds for help: a guard, a cop, a concerned citizen, for something - but no one is getting up, much less has any consciousness tied to the real world if it's not moving on that giant silver movie screen and I'm about to turn back to get someone's attention when Kiara shrieks.

"Oh, let go of me, Rafe!"

The eldest Cameron sibling hurls Kiara to the ground and she lands on her side, grimacing in pain. "Stay out of this, Kiara!"

I suddenly see red, my veins expanding with anger and my fingers squeeze into fists so tight that without thinking I pick up a chunk of wood lying by the pails they have stacked underneath the movie screen and smash it over Kelce's head. The wooden tip splits by the force of it.

"Jesus christ!" Kelce doubles over then, releasing JJ and he touches a hand to the back of his head. His fingers pull away with blood. "What the fuck!?"

It's only Rafe holding JJ by the collar now but his grip loosens when I drop the bloodied log. He looks at me square in the eye and I brace myself for things to get even worse-

Then the movie screen bursts into flames.

Screams pierce the night air and the bright blaze creates a thunderstorm of feet running out of the park and slate grey soot percolating by the windy currents. The yellowish orange bursts eat the whole movie screen within seconds and it causes all three rich boys to retreat, bloodied and breathing heavily.

The boys are none worse for wear. Pope is gasping for air and JJ's lip gushes with blood, but at least they're alive. If the movie screen didn't know explode like that though... I don't know what would have happened. They might not have gotten out of this one. If I didn't know the kind of boys Rafe and his friends are and what happened on the golf course, I'd think it's a far fetch. But it's not.

They really are the worst.

"Good luck explaining what happened to Pope," I say as the three laugh like kids in a sandbox. Topper and Rafe stop in their tracks and I don't miss the panic flash in Topper's eyes. He thinks I'm serious and I wish I was too, but I already made a promise to Pope not to tell a soul about the golf course incident and I won't go back on that. But these rich snobs deserve to be a little scared. "After I tell Sarah what you did she's not gonna want you anymore."

Rafe's jaw ticks and his stare, like touching your palm against a sizzling pan handle, sets me so uneasy that for a moment I forget where I am. He doesn't know me, but he already doesn't like me.

The smoke starts to fill and aggravate my lungs so I follow the others out and the boys are so haggard we have to rest by the sidewalk so they can get their bearings again. Kiara keeps an arm looped around Pope's back and I give JJ my old sweatshirt to clean his busted lip, my hands cold and trembling a little the entire time.

"One of us now, huh?" JJ rasps, slapping me on the back and it makes me struggle for a breath because of the smoke still filtering through the air. "Oh, shit, sorry."

He must be talking about how I hit Kelce. Why wouldn't I? They had JJ's arms pinned and it was clear all three of them weren't going to stop for anything, nothing at all. I shudder to think about it. They deserve more than what they got and I would do it all over if I had to, especially for my friend.

But I still don't feel good inside.


When I get home that night it's half an hour before my curfew and Mom is sitting on the sofa, an empty dinner plate on the coffee table with the Tv switched on to a random channel. She has the cell phone up to her ear and from her gentle tone, she's speaking to Dad.

She tips the phone away from her mouth when I try to trudge silently past her. "You were gone a long time. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, they played old movies and my friends stole my candy."

She smiles. "There's dinner on the stove. Eat something tonight other than sugar."

"I will, I will. I'm just gonna go change."

I return to the comfort of my bedroom, plopping down on the springy mattress and relishing in the softness, and all it's reassuring scents. I stretch an arm across the nightstand and click on the little lightbulbs hanging around my headboard, shaped like fireflies and whenever I look at them I can't help but think about my life, what it's like to be stuck between two worlds. The pressure of people insisting that you pick a side and stick with it, but no matter how hard or long I ponder it, I keep going back to my parents; anomalies outside warring islands. I'll always choose what they taught me first.

I guess that's why I feel a little gross after that fight. Not that I regret hitting Kelce and helping my friends because I don't and I would do it again if it meant they wouldn't get hurt, but I guess until then I had a blind eye to how things really were for people in the Cut and the level of animosity they faced from people in the Figure Eight. Dad always told me to keep my nose out of it. To keep my head down and my heart open. Just be nice to people. Is that really so hard to do?

When money is involved it is.

I swap into a pair of fleece sweatpants and an old school t-shirt. "Mom," I call down the hall. "Can we get ice cream?"


"You mean you got into your very first brawl and I wasn't there to record it?"

"It sounds funny, Nalyssa, but I swear JJ and Pope almost died. I don't know what those rich boys' problem is, I hate them."

I prop my phone up on my pillow, speaker button switched on as I clean my bedroom. Mom makes sure I get into the habit of it so now usually on Saturdays around eight o'clock I get everything tidy and set up for the new week. Emptying out the dirty clothes hamper, folding fresh laundry, and dragging shoes that got kicked under the bedskirt and putting them back in the closet.

Nalyssa comes back in two days and this is the first time we're catching up since she left.

"Hating rich boys? What happened to River Jordyn "Can't be bothered" Braverman? Are you really taking sides now?"

"I don't know... maybe. It's not the fact that rich people did it, it's that they felt like they had the right too. It's scary, you know? When someone doesn't see you as a human being."

"Welcome to the Cut," Nalyssa says gloomily. "Don't worry, when I come back you'll have reinforcements. We'll fight the good fight together."

I smile, brushing dust and grime of some knickknacks, picture frames, and old keepsakes I keep on a high shelf over my dresser. I'm almost finished and my stomach is grumbling at me to go scrabble around in the kitchen for a pre-dinner snack, but then my cell phone buzzes on my bed and I turn around to check who messaged me.

The screen flashes with a new notification box and my heart drops at the message.

"Everything okay?" Nalyssa's voice pipes in at the long silence.

"Yeah, it's just-" I hesitate for a second, wondering if I should just keep it to myself but Nalyssa is my closest confidant. She'll understand. "Sarah texted me. She invited me to hang out tomorrow on her Dad's boat."

"River, you know Kiara used to be best friends with her, right? And they had a huge falling out?"

"Yeah, I know but-"

"And you're friends with Kiara. You've known her longer, I don't think she'll be happy if she finds out you've been with her former bestie."

I frown at her words. "I know, but... I mean, Sarah's been nice. I don't want to choose between them." Why does that have to be an option? I know what happened between Kiara and Sarah was bad and if I was in their shoes, I can't say I'd be upset as well if my friend got close to someone who abandoned me. But to me having to choose one of them is doing the same. I want to be both their friends. I have to try at least.

I don't know how well it will work out.

Nalyssa sighs then and I hear something close to disappointment in her tone and it makes that sick swirl in my gut churn even deeper. "You might have to."

I sit up on my bed, appetite gone and stare down at Sarah's cheerful text coupled with Nalyssa's grim advice. It feels like a life or death decision. Sarah is nothing like her crazy brother and I wouldn't mind getting to know her more but at the same time I really value the kind of friend Kiara has been to me, and I do believe that she'll be upset if she knows I'm talking to Sarah. Maybe I do have to choose.

But I can't.

I text back to Sarah that I'm free tomorrow morning and she replies that she'll come pick me up at my house. I smile but it doesn't reach my heart.

I'm so nervous for the future.


The next morning I sit at my window with my knees up to my chest, anxiously waiting for Sarah's car to cruise up the driveway. I do want to go, I'm just worried on the repercussions it might have... I don't want to betray Kiara. But I can't just push Sarah away either. She could treat me the same way her brother treats Pope and JJ but she doesn't. That should count for something, right?

After about ten minutes a very sleek SUV parks right at the curb and I spot Sarah's sunkissed blonde hair behind the wheel. She honks the horn once and waves at me through the window so I make sure I have everything before heading out the front door and locking it behind me.

She rolls down the window when I'm halfway down the driveway. "Get in, loser," she grins and I smile too at what she's about to say next. "We're going shopping."

"Hilarious, Sarah. No, really, you're a genius."

"It's a gift."

Once I'm inside and buckled in, she starts up the car and makes a three-point turn into the road, the radio turned on low and playing a generic pop station.

I shift a little in the passenger seat, feeling out of place when I gaze around at the lavish interior. It looks brand new. I can't imagine affording something like this, much less having a good reason to buy something so expensive that's only meant to keep your feet off the ground.

"Wow," I breathe, taking it all in. "This is your car?"

"Well, my Dad paid for it," she admits. "But it's kind of mine."

"I never thought I'd get to live like a movie star for a day."

"Your Dad has money, doesn't he?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah, but he doesn't really like to admit it. He told me once when I was little to live below my means and I guess he meant being humble and not throw your money in everyone's face. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to say your family acts that way-"

"It's okay, River, I know what you meant. Honestly, you're not wrong. I mean you've seen my house. We don't really live low-key."

I go quiet at that. Sarah never asked to be born a kook, never demanded Mr. Cameron to have the wealth he does and I realize that she must feel like way I do sometimes: like a walking dollar sign. Or in my case, both borders of the island trying to push my family into either side of the land because our money is too much to some and never enough to the rest. It's exhausting.

"You know our Dads are kind of the same," Sarah reveals. "He didn't grow up rich either. A lot of people don't know this, but he's from the Cut too. He wasn't born with all this money, he had to work most of his life for it."

That does kind of sound like Dad, but Mr. Cameron and my Dad are polar opposites and are probably each other's least favorite person. It'd be a bloodbath putting those two in a room together, but that's not something I can just outright say to Sarah. I'm sure deep down she knows this too because of where we both live but it's more comfortable to think otherwise, that by some miracle that our Dads might create the missing link in the chain that will have pogues and kooks everywhere getting along. But no. That's impossible.

Pogues and kooks aren't meant to mix.

I never really considered myself to be either and it's not that great of a feeling to have. Sometimes it gets lonely.

My stomach is in knots when Sarah eventually parks in front of the house. She kills the engine, clicks off her seatbelt and looks at me with a smile.

"Don't worry, my family's still out so we have everything to ourselves." That eases the ache in my chest a little bit as I slide out of the car and follow her up the pristine steps to their mansion, but I can't help but feel out of place and a little paranoid as if an even bigger mansion is about to fall on my head. I thought only in movies do places like this exist.

The Cameron residence is much more breathtaking up close and during daylight. Sarah gives me a brief tour of both downstairs and upstairs, and I lose count of how many rooms they have after the kitchen - I guess I understand the stereotype of rich people having a lot of maids but that doesn't make it any less of an overkill.

"Hey, did you bring a swimsuit? We could go down to the beach later," Sarah says.

"No, I don't have anything with me."

"That's okay, " she answers back simply. "You can borrow one of mine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, River, it's just a bathing suit." She laughs at my expression a little, leading the way into her bedroom which is almost as big as the whole house. She even has one of those walk-in closets where if you actually go all the way inside in you might get lost and never come out again.

It's like shopping at a department store in her closet and as I study her various racks of clothing, I can't help but wonder how I ended up here - in the heart and perfect example of wealth, in the personal space of someone by all accounts should see me as dirt under her shoes.

"Sarah, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, of course."

I turn to see her sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone while she waits for me to pick something out. "How come you invited me up here today? I'm glad you did, but... I guess I'm just surprised cause we've never really talked before and now I'm in your house."

Sarah slowly looks up from her cell phone at that. "I don't know," she admits and I'm not offended by her answer. "I'm just sick of being reminded that I'm a kook all the time. Like I'm grateful for what I have and for my family, it's just... I know there's more to life than money, regardless what my Dad and brother say."

I guess money really doesn't matter if no one likes you or understands you. Without love, the more money you have the lonelier you feel.

"It's nice having friends who you can sit and do nothing with and still feel like you're having the best time of your life," I say and Sarah smiles, but it's more of a sad one like she's never had the experience. "You know I'm friends with Kiara, right?" I ask her.

Her expression falters. "Yeah, I do. It's fine... just because we're not close anymore doesn't mean you guys don't have to be. How is she?"

"She's great... she's a strong person."

Sarah's smile really looks wistful now, like she's reliving memories just from hearing Kiara's name alone.

I take a couple more minutes and look through the stacks of swimsuits Sarah has in her closet, all of them pretty but not at all making me feel comfortable enough to wear them given the steep price tag, so I settle for the least expensive one. I really don't even need it. I can't swim. But Sarah insists I change into it while she chooses one for herself and gets a bag ready with a bunch of products that I guess are for sun-tanning. It really is like the life of a movie star.

It's the middle of the day when Sarah shows me her Dad's boat and it's big enough to fit everyone living in the outer banks plus two other states, maybe three. I haven't been out in the water since my own father's birthday fishing trip but that was a long time ago and those murky lake waters he likes going to doesn't quite compare to the crystal blue waves of the marina. I almost feel like I'm trespassing by being here, but I know that's a crazy thought.

Around 2:00 in the afternoon, Sarah leads the way back to her house, glowing from the sunshine and suggesting she sneaks a bottle from her step-mom's wine cabinet and bring it up to her bedroom with us. I've never had champagne, but I don't want another reason looming over my head for Mr. Cameron not to like me because I spilled expensive champagne all over his daughter's carpet.

I'm changing back into my clothes when I hear the voice, masculine but faint coming from downstairs and my stomach aches at the vision of meeting the infamous Mr. Cameron.

Sarah groans then and stands up from her seat on the window sill. "Why is he home early?" She mutters to herself and trudges to the door, creaking it open and I hear a guy's voice on the other side but Sarah tries to talk over him.

"What do you want, Rafe? I told you I was having my friends over."

I feel like I'm about to die.

It's her brother.

My heart lurches to my throat as I fidget uncomfortably in my seat, listening to Sarah argue with him and I notice Rafe's hand pushing the door farther back, his perfectly white sneakers stepping inside the room. A glimpse of dirty blonde hair and cobalt blue eyes looking at me before Sarah grabs ahold of the door knob and forces him back out again.

Rafe laughs then and the sound gives me the creeps. "That's who you've been blowing off Topper for? Some dirty pogue rat?"

"It's none of your business, Rafe, so get the fuck out of my room." Sarah shoves him back with one hand and slams the door closed with the other, mumbling to herself when she comes back to sit next to me. "Sorry, he wasn't supposed to be home until tonight. I don't know why he came back."

"It's okay," I tell her despite the throbbing ache in my gut. "I'm used to hearing people say stuff like that."

Sarah frowns and a beat passes in uneasy silence between us before she steers the subject in a lighter direction and I do my best to listen to every word she says but I'd be lying if I say I'm not the tiniest bit uncomfortable and distracted now. Just knowing her brother is somewhere on the other side of that door makes me want to dash all the way back to the Cut. Or swim even though I don't know how. After what happened with his little rich gang, JJ, and Pope in the park, it's unnerving seeing him again now, much less being in his own house. I know just how big of a jerk he really is.

And it's obvious from the poisonous glint in his gaze that he hates my guts and not just because of where I live. He must've called my bluff on telling his sister about the golf course incident. But I will... if they don't leave Pope and JJ alone.

I don't regret coming to hangout with Sarah despite my discomfort though and the more I talk to her the more I realize she's kind of the opposite of everything people from the Cut say about the kooks, from what her family embodies. She's not shallow. And she's doesn't alienate me like some others do. I don't know anyone else who doesn't live in the Figure Eight who'd say this but... she's been a good friend to me in a short amount of time.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket then and I take it out to check the notification.

Kiara

Hey where you been? Wanna come over later?

My heart sinks to the floor and buries itself under the floorboards way beneath the dirt. I might as well just make my grave here and now with the level of guilt that hits me square in the chest because I know if or when Kiara finds out I've been spending time with her ex-best friend, she'll be angry but maybe not the kind of angry where she'll yell at me for being a bad friend and a liar. But the kind who won't have anything to say at all and won't want to talk to me ever again.

I know I brought this on myself... I should have just came clean to Kiara when it started but I didn't know how. And I was scared of having to choose between them. How do you even do something like that?

I guess Nalyssa is right. This whole thing was doomed from the start, but a part of me doesn't want to admit that to her even though she's my closest friend. She'll just say 'I told you so.'

I never felt more alone.


A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one :) Not a lot of Rafe right now but he'll definitely pop up more to ruin everyone's day.

Thanks for reading!