Kie walked into Allison's room, her energy vibrant and infectious as always, but today it did little to lift Allison's spirits. Allison lay on her stomach, her phone in hand, staring at the screen with a mix of curiosity and dread. She had just received a message from Rafe, a name that now brought a confusing mix of emotions swirling inside her.
Rafe: Are you going to the movies tonight?
Allison's heart skipped a beat. His text carried a casual tone, but she knew Rafe too well by now to mistake it for anything but a calculated move. He wasn't just asking; he was plotting. He wanted them to meet, to continue the twisted, intoxicating game they'd started. But Allison had already made plans—plans that involved Jordan, the sweet, steady presence who was everything Rafe wasn't.
She typed her response with firm resolve, hoping it would send the right message: "I'm going with my sister. Don't ask me to go with you."
For a moment, her thumb hovered over the send button, the conflicting emotions tearing at her resolve. She couldn't deny the thrill Rafe brought into her life, the way he made her feel alive, teetering on the edge of something dangerous and exhilarating. But she couldn't allow herself to be pulled into his world—not tonight, not when she had promised Jordan they would sneak away together. She hit send, her breath catching in her throat as she watched the message deliver.
Kie plopped down on the bed next to her, completely unaware of the inner turmoil raging within her sister.
"You ready?" Kie asked, her voice bright and cheerful.
Allison quickly flipped her phone over, the screen now hidden from view. "Just need to change clothes," she replied, her voice a little too light, a little too strained.
Kie's eyes narrowed, her playful smile fading as she leaned in closer, noticing something. Without warning, she reached out and moved a strand of Allison's hair aside. "Where did you get that hickey?"
Allison froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She had forgotten about the mark, the bruise that Rafe's lips had left on her neck. She shot up from the bed, making a beeline for the mirror. The small, telltale sign of their encounter stared back at her, glaringly obvious against her pale skin.
"I have no idea," Allison lied, but the words felt hollow even to her own ears.
Kie wasn't convinced. Her sisterly instincts were too sharp for that. "So, what's happening between you and Jordan? Everyone saw you give him that little peck the other day."
Allison's mind raced as she tried to find a way out of this. She needed Kie to believe it was Jordan, not Rafe, who had left that mark. "Me and him? Nothing serious," she deflected, reaching for her foundation and applying it to cover a hickey.
But Kie wasn't letting it go that easily. "I know there's something. He asked for your number, and I know you were with him that night when you came home in the morning. And now you have a hickey. Did you see him last night too?"
Allison sighed, the weight of her secrets bearing down on her. "Well... we kinda hooked up," she admitted, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Kie's curiosity.
"Kinda?" Kie pressed, her tone skeptical.
Allison turned back to the mirror, avoiding her sister's gaze as she rummaged through her closet. "It's nothing serious, Kie. We slept together, and that's it."
Kie softened, her protective nature taking over. "I don't have anything against you two being together. I just wanted to know."
Allison sighed, wishing things could be as simple as Kie made them sound. "I don't want a relationship, and he said he's fine with just hooking up."
Kie studied her sister, sensing the underlying tension in her voice. "Why don't you want a relationship?" she asked gently.
Allison paused, her hand hovering over a burgundy summer dress. "I've never really been in one, and I don't know if I want or if I'm ready for it," she confessed, the vulnerability in her voice surprising even herself.
"You won't know until you try," Kie pointed out, her tone soft but encouraging.
"Don't give me that speech, please," Allison huffed, though she appreciated Kie's concern more than she let on.
・ • ・ • ・
They met up with the boys and headed to the open field where the movie was being shown. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the gathering crowd, and for a moment, Allison felt a sense of peace. This was what she needed—a night of simplicity, of laughter, of normalcy.
"I'm so glad they're still doing this," Allison remarked as they walked to an empty spot in the field, her voice reflecting a rare moment of contentment.
"Yeah, keep calm, carry on, back to OBX life, you know?" Kie replied, turning to the boys behind her with a teasing grin. "Aren't you glad I made you come?"
"Ecstatic," Pope deadpanned, his sarcasm eliciting a laugh from the group.
"My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest," JJ added, though there was a glint of mischief in his eyes that suggested he was glad to be out, despite his word.
Allison spread out a blanket and sat cross-legged on it, feeling the cool grass beneath her. Kie and Jordan joined her, while the others brought chairs. For a moment, everything felt right—simple, easy, and without complications.
But the moment of peace didn't last long. Allison went with Kie to get drinks, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach. As she ordered five Pepsis, she noticed Rafe out of the corner of her eye, walking away from Kie with a familiar smugness in his stride. Her heart sank, a sense of foreboding settling over her.
"What did Rafe want?" Allison asked when her voice was sharper than she intended.
Kie shrugged, clearly unimpressed by the encounter. "He said the boys did something."
Allison's mind raced. What had Rafe meant by that? She could feel her grip on the situation slipping, the delicate balance she'd tried to maintain starting to unravel.
"How do you know him?" Kie suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes at Allison with suspicion.
"Oh, I met him at a kook party," Allison lied quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. She didn't want Kie digging any deeper—didn't want her to know just how entangled she was with Rafe Cameron.
When they returned to the group, Allison handed drinks to Jordan and Pope, trying to act normal, though her mind was still racing.
"Thank you, beautiful," Jordan said, winking at her as she sat next to him.
She smiled at him, but the smile felt forced. The weight of Rafe's presence lingered in the back of her mind, making it impossible to fully relax.
The moment was cut short when Kie spoke up, her voice laced with concern. "Just saw Rafe, and he said, 'Tell your boy that we know what he did.'"
Allison's heart skipped a beat. "What does that mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Um... where is he?" JJ asked, his tone more tense than usual.
Kie pointed to the back of the field, where the kooks—Topper, Rafe, and Kelce—stood watching them with smug, predatory expressions. "Right there," she said, her voice tight with worry.
"Great, the whole death squad," Pope muttered, his voice cracking with fear.
JJ, always the first to react, smacked Pope on the head, making him squeal. "Don't stare, bro. Just warning you, if they corner me, I'm coming out swinging. If that doesn't work, I got this," he added, holding up his bag.
Allison looked at them, confusion and dread swirling in her chest. What had they done to anger the kooks this time? Whatever it was, it was serious—serious enough that Rafe was involved.
Pope nodded, his voice trembling slightly. "We just gotta stay in the group. They can't get us in the group. Like a school of fish. Stay in the school."
"I'm sorry, JJ... please tell me you did not bring a gun here. There are kids," Kie said, her voice strained with panic.
"No! I didn't bring the gun. Everything's fine, okay?" JJ assured them, though his eyes betrayed his nervousness.
"Wow, that's really convincing, JJ," Kie said sarcastically, her voice laced with a mix of fear and frustration.
Allison chuckled despite the tension, trying to lighten the mood. "You two are like a married couple."
Jordan nodded, his voice soft with affection. "You have no idea."
Kie lightly hit Jordan's shoulder, trying to mask her worry with humor. "No secrets among Pogues. What is Rafe talking about?"
"Kie," Pope turned to her, his expression serious. "It might go down tonight."
Allison's heart lurched at his words. "What does that mean? 'Might go down tonight.' What did y'all do?"
But the boys ignored her, JJ whispering to Pope, "Deny, deny, deny."
As the movie continued, Allison tried to focus on the screen, but her mind kept drifting to the seats where the kooks had been.
Something was about to happen—she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. The uneasy tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating, and she couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to spiral out of control.
Jordan put his arm around Allison, pulling her closer. The warmth of his body was comforting, but it did little to soothe the growing anxiety in her chest. He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away, her eyes darting back to the seats.
"Not here," Allison whispered, gently shrugging off his arm. She couldn't let her guard down, not when Rafe was lurking somewhere nearby, watching. The last thing she wanted was for anyone—especially Rafe—to know she was torn between him and Jordan.
Jordan frowned, his concern evident. "Is everything okay?"
Allison forced a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'm just... not in the mood right now." But even as she said it, she knew her words lacked conviction. She could feel Rafe's eyes burning into her back, a silent reminder of the chaos that seemed to follow him everywhere.
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the field. The movie was halfway through when, suddenly, the boys stood up, their movements quick and purposeful.
"Hey, where are you going?" Allison asked, her voice tinged with worry.
"We gotta wring it out," JJ replied, his tone casual, but the look in his eyes was anything but. He was lying, and not very convincingly.
"You gonna hold it for each other?" Kie asked, her face scrunching up in disgust.
Allison snorted, the absurdity of the situation momentarily cutting through the tension. But as the boys disappeared into the crowd, her unease returned tenfold. She glanced back at the empty seats, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Kie," Allison whispered urgently, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. "I think the boys are in trouble."
Kie followed her gaze to where the kooks had been, realization dawning on her face. "Shit," she muttered, grabbing JJ's bag with the gun. The two sisters muttered hurried apologies as they jumped over people, pushing their way through the crowd toward the back of the screen.
The night air was thick with tension as they rounded the corner behind the screen. The scene that greeted them made Allison's blood run cold. Rafe had Jordan by the collar, his fist connecting with Jordan's jaw in a sickening thud. Jordan stumbled back, trying to recover, but Rafe was relentless, his eyes burning with a fury that was all too familiar.
"Rafe, stop!" Allison screamed, her voice breaking as she watched Rafe turn on JJ, who was already on the ground, trying to protect himself from the onslaught. Topper was grappling with Pope, his hands wrapped around Pope's throat, cutting off his air.
Kie, acting on pure instinct, swung JJ's backpack at Topper, hitting him square in the back. "Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!" she yelled, her voice filled with a mix of fear and rage. But Topper, unfazed, grabbed the backpack and tossed it aside, his grip on Pope tightening.
Allison's eyes locked on Rafe, who was about to land another punch on JJ. Without thinking, she ran toward him, grabbing his arm and pulling him back with all the strength she could muster. "Let him go, Rafe!" she pleaded, her voice desperate.
Rafe turned to her, his eyes wild and unrecognizable. He grabbed her arms, shoving her down with a force that took her breath away. "Stay out of this, princess," he snarled, his voice cold and detached, as if the Rafe she had spent the night with was a completely different person.
Before Rafe could turn back to JJ, Jordan—blood trickling from his split lip—took advantage of the distraction and threw a punch that landed squarely on Rafe's face.
"Don't fucking touch her," Jordan shouted, his voice trembling with both anger and fear.
Rafe laughed, wiping the blood from his nose with a wicked grin, but before he could retaliate, Kie did the unthinkable. In a desperate bid to end the fight, she grabbed a nearby can of lighter fluid and doused the screen with it, setting it ablaze. The flames shot up quickly, engulfing the screen and casting an eerie, flickering light over the scene.
The sudden blaze created the perfect distraction. The kooks froze, their attention momentarily diverted from their fight. The shock on their faces was palpable as the flames roared to life, lighting up the night sky.
Jordan wasted no time. He rushed to Allison, helping her to her feet with a concerned look in his eyes. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine," Allison replied, her voice shaky. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, making her feel jittery and unsteady. "Let's help JJ."
They found JJ lying on the ground, blood covering his face from a gash above his eyebrow. His breathing was labored, and he looked dazed, but he managed a weak smile when he saw them.
Allison's anger toward Rafe flared up again, her chest tightening as she glanced over at him. He was still standing there, watching the chaos unfold with an unreadable expression. She didn't want to look at him, didn't want to acknowledge the twisted connection they had. But she could feel his gaze on her, a silent reminder of the tangled web they were caught in.
・ • ・ • ・
"So Pope sank Topper's boat? Did he lose his mind?" Allison asked Jordan as they entered the Carrera's house, trying to piece together the events that had led to this moment.
Jordan shrugged, his arm still wrapped protectively around Allison. "Maybe it was a stupid idea."
"It definitely was," Allison agreed, the frustration in her voice clear. She hated how things had escalated, how the feud between the kooks and the Pogues had once again led to violence. "Come here," she added, pulling Jordan towards her room.
Inside, the tension began to ease, though the weight of the night still hung over them. Allison led Jordan to the bathroom, gently nudging him to stand between her legs as she sat on the countertop. Her hands were steady as she cleaned his cuts and bruises, but inside, she was anything but calm.
"Sorry," she murmured when Jordan flinched, the sting of the antiseptic biting at his raw skin.
"It's okay," Jordan replied, his hand resting on her thigh in a gesture that was both comforting and intimate.
"Rafe got you good, huh?" Allison noted, dabbing at the cut on his lip.
Jordan chuckled lightly, though the sound was strained. "Yeah, who would've thought a pretty boy could punch like that?"
"Don't underestimate the kooks," Allison said, her tone softening as she focused on the task at hand.
"Don't underestimate the Pogues," Jordan countered, his voice taking on a more serious edge.
Allison sighed, her heart heavy with the weight of it all. "I don't like this war between kooks and Pogues. If you can't be friends, at least don't fight."
Jordan's hand tightened slightly on her thigh, his jaw clenching. "Easier said than done. But when I saw Rafe push you, I wanted to rip his head off," he admitted, his voice thick with anger.
"That's a little extreme," Allison said, though she couldn't deny the flare of warmth in her chest at his protectiveness.
"It's what he deserves," Jordan replied, his eyes darkening with fury.
Allison placed her hand gently on the unbruised side of his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. "Okay, can we not talk about him?" she asked, her voice softening. She didn't want to think about Rafe right now—didn't want to let him ruin this moment with Jordan.
Jordan's expression softened as well, his anger giving way to something warmer, something more tender. "What do you want to talk about?" he asked, his voice low and inviting.
Allison leaned in, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, "I don't want to talk."
Their kiss was slow at first, tentative as if they were both trying to erase the events of the night with each other's touch. But it quickly deepened, the tension of the night melting away as they lost themselves in the warmth of the moment. Jordan's hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He winced slightly, the pain from his bruises catching up with him, and pulled back with a rueful smile.
"I'm sorry," Allison whispered, guilt creeping into her voice.
"It was worth it," Jordan chuckled, though there was a hint of discomfort in his laugh.
Allison laughed softly, the sound a little more genuine this time. "How about we take a shower to relax?" she suggested, her voice tinged with a playful edge.
Jordan's eyes lit up with amusement and desire. "I don't see why not," he agreed, his voice huskier than before.
They quickly stripped off their clothes, the night's tension still lingering in the air between them. The hot water ran down their bodies, washing away the dirt and grime from the fight, but the water did little to wash away the emotional weight of the night. As the steam rose around them, Allison pressed herself against Jordan, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. Her hands explored his body with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the tension still knotted there.
Jordan leaned against the tiled wall, his eyes half-closed as he let her touch soothe him. The cuts and bruises from the fight were still fresh, but Allison's touch was a welcome balm. She kissed down his neck, her lips gentle, but there was an undercurrent of need in every caress.
"I can help you relax," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water cascading down their bodies.
Jordan's breath hitched, his hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her closer. He was still feeling the sting of Rafe's punches, but at this moment, with Allison's body pressed against his, he could almost forget the pain. Almost.
Allison kissed him, her lips soft but insistent, her hands moving down his chest, over the bruises and scars. She could feel the tension leaving his body with every kiss, every touch. He responded in kind, his hands roaming over her wet skin, savoring the feel of her under his fingertips.
As the kiss deepened, their movements became more frantic, more desperate, as if they were trying to forget everything that had happened that night. But no matter how hard they tried, the tension was still there, a lingering reminder of the fight, of Rafe, of everything that had gone wrong.
They lost themselves in each other, the water washing away the blood and sweat, but not the memories. Allison felt a pang of guilt as Jordan's lips found her collarbone, trailing kisses down her chest. She wanted to be fully present with him, to give him the comfort and connection he deserved, but her mind kept drifting back to Rafe—his touch, his words, the way he had looked at her that night when they were alone.
Jordan noticed her hesitation and pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing in concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, searching her face for any sign of distress.
Allison forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, but the words felt hollow, even to her. She didn't want to ruin the moment and didn't want to let her tangled feelings for Rafe get in the way of what she had with Jordan. But the truth was, she was far from fine. The events of the night had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.
Jordan seemed to sense her inner turmoil, but he didn't press her. Instead, he pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. They stood there under the spray of the shower, holding each other, the water mixing with the tears that Allison hadn't realized were falling.
"I've got you," Jordan whispered, his voice steady, reassuring. He didn't ask questions, didn't demand explanations. He just held her, letting her know that she wasn't alone, that he was there for her, no matter what.
And for a moment, Allison allowed herself to lean into that comfort, to let herself be held. She rested her head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat steadying her own. She wished she could stay in this moment forever, where things were simple, where she didn't have to think about Rafe or the complicated mess that her life had become.
But deep down, she knew that this moment wouldn't last. The reality of her situation was waiting just outside the bathroom door, and sooner or later, she would have to face it.
・ • ・ • ・
Jordan was the first to wake the next morning, the events of the previous night still fresh in his mind. He carefully extricated himself from Allison's sleeping form, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before slipping out of bed. He headed to the bathroom, needing to clear his head and freshen up after the night's turmoil.
As he searched for a towel in the cabinet, something caught his eye—a small bag tucked away in the corner. His heart sank when he realized what it was: a bag of white powder. Jordan's stomach churned with a mix of anger and concern as he grabbed the bag and returned to the bedroom, where Allison was just beginning to stir.
"What is this?" Jordan's voice was firm, almost harsh, as he stood by the bed, holding the bag out for her to see.
Allison's eyes flew open, widening in shock as she saw the bag in his hand. Panic surged through her, but she tried to keep her voice steady as she asked, "Where did you find that?"
"In your bathroom," Jordan replied, his tone demanding answers.
Allison's mind raced as she tried to come up with a believable story, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew lying would only dig her deeper into this mess, but she couldn't bear the thought of Jordan knowing the truth. "Why were you searching through my bathroom?" she deflected, trying to buy herself some time.
But Jordan wasn't having it. "Don't avoid my question," he said, his voice unyielding.
Allison sighed, realizing there was no way out of this without at least some truth. "You know what that is," she admitted, crawling over the bed toward him, trying to take the bag from his hands. But Jordan moved it out of her reach, his expression unreadable.
"Are you using it?" Jordan questioned, his tone serious, a hint of fear creeping into his voice.
Allison hesitated, then shook her head. "No," she lied, her voice a little too quick, a little too defensive.
"Then why do you have it?" Jordan pressed, his concern deepening.
Allison took a deep breath, deciding to mix a bit of truth with her lies. "Okay, I'll be honest. I used it at the kook party with Jessica, and she gave it to me. But I haven't used it since." The truth was, she had used it again, after the party, and it wasn't Jessica who had given her this particular bag—it was Rafe after they had slept together in his car.
Jordan's jaw tightened, his eyes searching hers for any sign of deception. "If you don't want to use it, you can throw it away," he suggested, his voice softening, though the worry was still evident.
Allison's heart ached at the concern in his eyes. She didn't want to lose him over something like this, but she also didn't want him to find out about Rafe. "Jordan, please don't tell anyone. If Kie's parents find out, they'll tell mine, and I'll have to go back home. I like it here. I like it here with you," she pleaded, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions as she knelt on the bed in front of him, her hands cradling his face. "Please, promise me you won't say anything."
Jordan's expression softened, but the concern in his eyes remained. He wanted to believe her, wanted to trust her, but the sight of that bag had shaken him. "How can I be sure you're not using it?" he asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.
"You can watch me throw it away," Allison offered, holding out her hand for the bag.
Jordan hesitated, then placed the bag in her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "You can get it again if you want," he pointed out, his tone cautious.
Allison looked up at him, her heart heavy. "You just need to trust me. Please," she whispered, her voice filled with desperation.
Jordan stared at her for a long moment, his internal struggle clear on his face. Finally, he nodded, though the worry in his eyes didn't fully dissipate. "Okay." He watched as she walked to the bathroom, his stomach churning with anxiety.
Allison flushed the contents of the bag down the toilet, the small act feeling like both a relief and a betrayal. She turned back to Jordan, forcing a smile as she reentered the bedroom. "It's done," she said, though the words felt hollow.
Jordan gave her a small, hesitant smile in return, but the tension between them was palpable. He stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I trust you," he murmured against her hair, though his voice carried the weight of unspoken fears.
Allison wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, the guilt gnawing at her. She knew she had made a promise she wasn't sure she could keep. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the warmth of Jordan's embrace, hoping it would be enough to keep the darkness at bay.
・ • ・ • ・
The next day, Allison found herself back at The Wreck, the familiar routine a welcome distraction from the tumultuous events of the past few days. She was wiping down tables on the balcony after the lunch rush when she heard a voice behind her—a voice that sent a chill down her spine.
"Can we talk?" Rafe's tone was unusually soft, almost apologetic, but Allison could sense the underlying tension in his voice.
For the past few days, Allison had ignored Rafe's messages and calls, still angry about the fight at the movies and everything it had stirred up inside her. She rolled her eyes, refusing to turn around to face him. "No," she replied coldly, her voice laced with the bitterness she'd been holding onto.
Rafe stepped closer, his presence looming over her. "Hey, listen. I know you're mad at me right now," he began, but Allison cut him off with a sharp laugh, the sound bitter and filled with unresolved frustration. She moved to the next table, determined to ignore him, but Rafe wasn't giving up. He followed her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a gesture that was both familiar and unwelcome.
"Don't touch me!" Allison snapped, spinning around to face him, her eyes flashing with anger. She shrugged off his hand, taking a step back to put some distance between them.
Rafe raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He looked disheveled, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused, as if he hadn't slept—or maybe had indulged in something far stronger than sleep. "I'm sorry I pushed you that night."
Allison shook her head, crossing her arms defensively. "I'm not mad because of that," she replied, her tone cold. She was trying to keep her emotions in check, but the sight of him standing there, looking so lost and out of control, made it difficult.
"Then why?" Rafe asked genuine confusion in his voice. It was as if he couldn't comprehend why she was upset, why his actions had hurt her so deeply.
"Do you really need to ask?" Allison's voice wavered as she tried to keep her anger in check. "You beat JJ, hit Jordan, and Topper almost choked Pope to death. Are you guys fucking crazy?" The words tumbled out, each one laced with the pain and frustration she'd been holding back for days.
Rafe's expression hardened, his confusion quickly giving way to defensiveness. "They sank Topper's boat. What do you expect us to do?" he shot back, his voice rising in anger.
"Buy a new boat," Allison suggested, her tone exasperated. She couldn't believe how easily he justified violence, how quick he was to defend actions that had put her friends in danger.
"Pogues need to pay for their actions," Rafe insisted, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. "Not to mention that Jordan guy tried to kiss you."
Allison's heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening as she realized what Rafe had just admitted. "Yeah, I saw that. At the movies, but you moved your head," he added, his tone accusatory, as if her rejection of Jordan's kiss somehow justified his behavior.
Allison's eyes narrowed, her anger flaring. "He didn't try to kiss me," she lied, her voice sharp. "He was telling me something."
Rafe laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that sent a chill down her spine. "Yeah, right," he muttered, his eyes dark with jealousy.
"Even if he did, so what? You don't own me because we slept together once," Allison snapped, her voice trembling with both anger and hurt. She couldn't believe Rafe was trying to control her, trying to dictate who she could and couldn't be with.
"Oh, is that so?" Rafe questioned, his tone mocking, as if he didn't believe for a second that she meant what she was saying.
"Yes," Allison replied firmly, though her voice wavered with the emotions she was struggling to keep in check. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the storage room where they could talk without being overheard. "Look at you, Rafe. You're a mess, high on drugs in the middle of the day."
Rafe's bitter laugh echoed in the small space. "And he isn't," he shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I'm not comparing you to him," Allison corrected, her voice softening as she tried to reach the part of him that wasn't consumed by anger and jealousy. "You need to get yourself together."
"And then you'll talk to me?" Rafe asked, his tone challenging, daring her to say yes.
Allison sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to find the right words. "I don't know, Rafe. Try it and see what happens," she replied honestly. She wasn't sure what would come of this conversation, wasn't sure if Rafe was even capable of change, but she had to give him the chance to prove her wrong. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice quieter, more vulnerable.
Rafe's bravado faltered, his anger giving way to something more raw, more real. "You don't care enough to know," he said, his voice low, almost defeated, as he turned to leave.
"I do care, you know?" Allison's words stopped him in his tracks. "But I also care about my friends."
Rafe turned back to her, his eyes searching hers, the anger and hurt etched into his features softening for just a moment. "I don't want to be this way," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Allison felt a pang of sadness as she looked at him, seeing the boy behind the bravado, the one who was lost and scared, hiding behind his tough exterior. She took a step closer, her voice gentle as she spoke. "You have to want to change, Rafe. And you need help. I can't be the one to save you."
Rafe's gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of her words settling on his shoulders. "I don't want to lose you, Allison," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
"You never had me to lose," Allison said softly, her heart aching as she spoke the truth. "But if you want to start over, clean up your act. Maybe then we can talk."
Rafe nodded slowly, a flicker of determination crossing his features. "I'll try," he said, though the words were more of a promise to himself than to her.
Allison gave him a small, sad smile, hoping against hope that he would follow through. "That's all I can ask," she replied, her voice gentle but firm.
Rafe lingered for a moment as if wanting to say more, but the words seemed to elude him. Finally, he turned and left the storage room, leaving Allison standing there, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions she couldn't quite sort out.
As she watched him go, Allison felt a mix of relief and sadness. She hoped Rafe would follow through on his promise to change, but deep down, she knew it wouldn't be easy. For now, she had to focus on herself, on the people who truly cared about her. But a part of her couldn't help but worry—about Rafe, about Jordan, about the tangled mess her life had become.