Kook King

Call It Fate

I curse under my breath as I hit another red light on Friday night. I tap my fingers against the steering wheel as I watch the digital clock on my dashboard flick from 9:17 to 9:18. I'm late for some kook party Ava and Deirdre are making me go to. It's the same party JJ mentioned to me the other day when I helped him with his bike, but he'll most likely be hanging out with his friends, John B, Pope, and kook-turned-pogue, Kiara.

I hate driving by myself at night, especially since my radio isn't working so I can't fill the empty silence with music. I'm not even really in the mood to go to this party, but it's summer and I don't have work tomorrow so I figured I should take advantage of this opportunity. It'll probably be the same as always. Ava and Deirdre will urge me to get drunk then hype me up when I start dancing. Maybe some guy will come up behind me, dance a couple of songs with me, and suggest in my ear that we find some other place to be alone. I'm really not in the mood for that tonight, either. Especially after what happened last time.

Just as the light turns green, my gas light lights up. "Fuck," I hiss. Since there is no one else on the road and there's a gas station nearby, I pull over. There's one large light that flickers above me as I climb out of my car and grab the gas hose. If I didn't know that this gas station was open, I would assume it's been deserted. It's seeped in darkness, only a small, closed store behind it with a broken tire pump and one working gas pump.

I tap my foot impatiently until it finally clicks, signaling that my tank is full. I pay, put it away, and get back into my car. If my mother knew I was here by myself at night, she would flip out. My car is not new, not even slightly new. My parents wanted me to have a car, though, so I could take myself to and from school and work because they rarely have time to. They got it for cheap, and my dad helped fix it up so it at least works. I named it James after James Dean because the car just had that feel to it with its buttery, leather seats and old-fashioned steering wheel. I've had it for about a year now and I love it, even if it isn't the most reliable.

I turn the key in the ignition, but James doesn't start. He makes a horrible choking sound. I try again-- maybe it was just me. But again, it doesn't come to life. "Fuck!" I shout, slamming the steering wheel with my hand. "No, no, no, no."

I grab my cell phone from the passenger seat. There's a text from Deirdre two minutes ago, saying, bitch where r u?? we're here, hurry tf up!

I make a frustrated grunt and call her, but she doesn't pick up. "Really?" I say, under my breath. Then I try Ava.

While it rings, I stare out my window into the dark. I can barely see the road that curves right in front of the gas station. The trees loom across the street. I get a sinking feeling that no one will show up. I feel completely abandoned between the pogue and kook sides of the island. Come on, pick up, pick up, pick up, I silently beg.

A few minutes later, white headlights appear from behind me. I whirl around to see a car careening around the bend. I lunge out of my car, catching my heel on my car floor, and curse loudly. When I look back up, I see the car pulling into the gas station. Yes!

When the car stops, my brow furrows. I swear I know that car from somew-

Rafe Cameron climbs out of the driver's side door.

"Hello?" sounds a tiny voice. "Hello? Y/N?"

It's coming from my phone in my hand.

"Y/N," Rafe calls out, shutting his door.

I quickly hang up on Ava so she doesn't hear Rafe and think I buttdialed her. I clutch my phone tightly in my hand as Rafe approaches me. He's dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans. His hair hangs in strands over his forehead.