Kook King

Princess & The Pogue

"Where the hell are we?" I ask, leaning forward to stare up at a large house with about ten cars in the driveway and lights on in every room. From the looks of it, it seems like a party, but it's definitely not a pogue party. It's a mansion, just like all the other ones in Figure 8. I've seen plenty of these large houses, and yet they never fail to make my jaw drop. This particular mansion glows with lights around the front garden, guiding you up to the large, brown front door. Collums hold up a wrought-iron balcony on the second floor. I can tell whoever lives here has a pool in the back because I can see the chairs and pool lights from where I'm sitting in the car.

Rafe cuts the engine. "I told you, I just have to make a couple of stops before I take you home."

"Yeah, but what are we doing here?" I've never been to a mansion like this one. I'm nervous about sticking out like a sore thumb. Rafe will obviously fit in since he's Kook King.

Rafe shoots me a look like I'm wasting his time. "You coming?"

I glance back at the house. I guess it'd be better than sitting and waiting in the car, wondering when Rafe is going to come back. The mansion stares back at me, daring me to come in. My hand wraps around the door handle. "Yeah."

He grabs a brown paper bag as we both climb out of his car and head towards the house. The inside is just as glamourous as the outside. The foyer is decked out in framed family photographs and cute little decorations. There are big glass windows that look out to a bright, blue pool. The closest thing I ever had to a pool is a puddle in my backyard when it rains really hard.

Although, I don't have any type of relationship with Rafe Cameron, I stick by him as we walk inside because he's the only person here that I know, and somehow that makes me feel close to him. I look around as we weave through the throng of people. Shirtless guys with beer cans in their hands and girls in tiny outfits with a face full of makeup dance around, sweaty and boisterous.

Some drunken guy shouts excitedly in my face, which makes me jump. Rafe's hand slides around my waist and gently pulls me in front of him, away from the screaming guy. It's subtle but effective and the problem is fixed, just like that.

Rafe guides me into a small room that reeks of weed and is so thick with smoke, I can barely see to the other side of the room. It's dark, not necessarily because of the lighting, although that's dim, too, but mostly because it looks like a room from the sixties. The walls are all wood panneling and the carpet is a dark red. All of the furniture is a dark wood, too. There are a couple of other people in the corner of the room, clearly high and busy talking. A boy our age hunches over in a desk chair across the room, toying with something in a plastic baggie. His head jerks up when Rafe tosses his brown paper bag onto the desk beside him.

"Oh, hey, man," the guy says, standing up. He quickly shakes Rafe's hand then eyes me and smiles.

He's cute. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, and he's a few inches shorter than Rafe. From his checkered shirt and ironed jeans, I can easily tell he's a kook, but I wonder if this is his house.

"Who's this?" he asks Rafe, but keeps his eyes on me.

"Y/N," I say.

"Austin. Nice to meet you." He offers me his hand.

I shake his hand and keep close to Rafe, but Austin continues to eye me like some sleazy guy at a bar. "Rafe, man, I didn't realize you had a girl."

"I'm not his girl."

"I don't," Rafe mumbles, his back to both of us.

Austin smiles. "Ohh, so I have a shot?"

Rafe takes a deep breath, seeming fed up, and holds his hand out. "Forty bucks, man."