the slums || jj maybank

nine. rafe cameron

nine. rafe cameron

 After living in the Outer Banks for nearly a month, Skye had grown closer to everyone. John B had sort of developed a protective nature towards the girl who was just a bit younger than him. Kiara, Pope, and JJ had accepted her as a part of their group, even though Skye felt it would only be temporary. While she wasn't exactly sure how temporary, her happiness was something that consistently failed to last.

In the spirit of friendship, Skye had elected to purchase dinner for the party of five. Like many other nights, the group agreed they would hanging out after everyone finished up working and tending to their daily duties. 

 Skye had spent the day alone, waking up around eight in the morning. She then elected to walk down to the beach, locating a surfboard rental. The cost was twenty-five dollars for half the day, and the girl decided that would be plenty.

 After she spent four hours on the beach, surfing bigger waves than she was ever able to experience at home. The surf in OBX contained some of the largest waves on the East Coast; Skye lived for it.

 After she surfed, she turned in her board and began the twenty-minute walk back to the Chateau. Upon arriving back at John B's home, she showered and washed. She then got dressed in a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt. Once the time fell at about five, Skye headed back out to go find dinner for the group.

 Her feet, and the smell of hot food, lured her to a small pizza place on the corner of two crossroads. Pizza seemed like a safe choice; everyone enjoyed the food, right?

 Skye approached the restaurant, her attention being focused on the group exiting the establishment. Her concentration was broken by her shoulder slamming into something solid, her body flying back a few inches. A large hand found its way around her forearm, steadying the girl.  

 Her heart thudded in her chest, her hand immediately pulling from the grip. Her heartbeat was present in her ears. Upon glancing up at the boy, she realized she failed to recognize him; this set her at slight ease. His hair was a dark, dusty blonde that was actually more brown. His eyes were blue, staring at the girl he had slammed into.

 "Sorry," Skye muttered, the boy continuing to stare at her. Her blue eyes were glancing at his, her waiting for him to reciprocate some sort of acknowledgment of her apology or issuing one of his own before she walked away from the boy.

 "Um, hi," he greeted with a small smile. He attempted to glance the girl in front of him up and down; he noticed her long, tan legs, her wider set hips and smaller waist, her plump lips. She looked at him expectantly once his gaze finally returned to her eyes instead of her body; he looked like a pig and acted like one, too. "Are you from around here?"

 Skye found she had an amused smile on her face. "No," she answered blankly, not engaging with this boy. He appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen, wearing a short-sleeve button-up shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

  "Island trash, dude," the boy next to him muttered, Skye pulling her attention to the boy with very dark brown hair next to him. It was as if he was trying to console his friend for her extremely apparent lack of interest.

  The original boy spoke loud enough for Skye to hear, his words pointed. "She definitely doesn't look like island trash." He turned back to Skye, smirking as if he had given her the ultimate compliment; while other, touristy girls may have swooned for the boy in front of her, they were a dime a dozen where she grew up. If Skye wasn't interested then, did he think he would be the one to change her mind? "I'm Rafe. Rafe Cameron." He spoke as though his name would change the fact that Skye just wanted to end the interaction.