chapter one.
barry
BEER, PETROL AND GRASS. That's what the inside of Barry's trailer smelt like. It wasn't necessarily a bad smell, nothing Faith wasn't used to, especially the beer. The bad thing about the rusted trailer was that it was so god damn hot inside. Not a day—on—the—beach type of hot, but a hot which was sticky and made the place feel more cramped than it looked. The standing fan next to the couch — now Faith's bed as so generously given by Barry — barely did it's job of cooling even a fly down, and the piece of plastic looked like it was seconds away from snapping blade first onto the floor. Home sweet home.
As Faith took in the picture of her life for the next God knows how many months, she continued to zone out while Barry rambled on about some house rules while she lived under 'his roof'. There is no damn roof, you live in a box with wheels. Faith nodded in his direction to at least make it look like she was listening to him, but really, she was staring at the shredded, dusty and damp couch she now had to call a bed. She was used to these conditions, but fuck, was she tired of it. She sighed.
"What? You wanted a double bed or 'sum?" She heard his mocking tone and shook her head with raised eyebrows. The drained girl suddenly felt bad for her thoughts a second ago. He was the only family member that was willing to take her in for a couple of months while she tried to make a decent amount of money to hopefully get her own place. He was giving her the opportunity others wouldn't. Whether it was out of the goodness of his heart or because he didn't care either way — she didn't know, maybe she'd find out.
"Good. Cause you on the wrong side of the OBX if you wantin' even a pull out bed," he chuckled, but it was definitely not a joke. He carried on talking about something to do with his room.
Second cousin? Third cousin? Faith was trying to remember how Barry was even related to her. She's only ever met him twice and she only briefly remembers one of the two times. She ponders on the thought if the two are even blood related. She doesn't think so.
"Ya hear me? You ain't allowed in my room, you ain't allowed to touch my stuff and you ain't allowed to bring any friends over." She once again nodded in his direction with a small smile which said she understands.
"Where should I put my stuff?" She speaks up, pointing towards her pastel pink duffle bag her mom gifted her when she turned a teenager.
"Well, not in my room city girl cause how you gonna get it if you ain't allowed in there, hm?" He sort of speaks to her as if she's a child. She's eighteen and even though she has no knowledge of his last name never mind his age, she can tell he's no older than twenty five. Faith always wonders if she's a bit dull and dumb seeing as most people in her life speak to her like a teacher to a student in a play ground. She never did fantastic in school for the time she was there, but well enough that she doesn't think she deserves to always be spoke to in a condescending matter. "There's some empty closet just before you go into the kitchen; there's your wardrobe."
She politely thanks him and watches as he takes out his phone, puts it to his ear and walks into what she assumes his infamous room. The brunette is thankful he's stopped talking but not completely mute as she can still hear his voice boom through the thin walls and catches on to some talk about 'needing money by the end of the week.'
After putting her luggage into the supposed — to — be — wardrobe, she finally sits on couch and it makes an awkward squeak at one side. In fact, when Faith moved to put her head down and legs up, the whole couch-bed basically played a song while she manoeuvred to make herself comfortable. Awesome.
After fixing her ponytail, Faith shut her dark brown eyes for the first time in nearly a day. Although she was not relaxed and her eyebrows and forehead were straining, but it was enough for now. She needed this.
Ever since she was about fifteen, it took Faith a while for her to fall into a deep sleep. Sometimes she wouldn't at all, and her sleeps were so light that she could still hear the sounds of crickets, the wind, arguments between whoever was caring for her at the time and whole lot of door slamming. She would flinch in her sleep, and that's how she knew she was still awake. Those flinches were caused by heavy footsteps and she would tense when they seemed to be getting closer to her bedroom door, but relaxed when they went into the other room. Sometimes they didn't go into the other room.
As she grew older, sleep got a little bit easier. It took her long to fall asleep still but at least she slept. She never remembered her dreams, not even her nightmares. Her head too focused on staying asleep for at least five hours for the nights she could. It would become easier and easier and then another move to another family made that progress completely pointless.
She couldn't wait for her eighteenth birthday. When the day in December finally arrived, she wanted to be independent right away and just be alone for as long as possible. However, she knew she couldn't leave the family she was with right away with fourteen dollars in her pocket and nowhere to go. So, she waited and waited. It was a long process and the people responsible for her since she was a young teen finally decided she was capable enough of travelling to the Outer Banks and trusting her decision to stay with a distant family member until she is financially and emotionally stable. Foster care services did their bit in helping her develop, even if it was not always pleasant, but it worked out and now here she was. Not just where she wants to be but where she can make a good start.
"Yo, city girl!" A deep familiar voice jolted her up. She wasn't sleeping, but she was finally fucking at peace. Please let me take a 30 second nap, God, I beg. "Nah you ain't sleepin' yet it ain't even dark out. You're gonna help me out tonight at The Cut. Suppose' to be a loada kids there tonight from both sides and what I mean by that is a loada drunk idiots, and a loada drunk idiots equals a loada cash in my fuckin' pockets so — up ya get." He said all this while grabbing some items from around the living area.
The Cut? Both sides? Both sides of what? Am I finally dreaming?
"Wh — what? Why do I have to go? I don't really feel like partying if that's what you mean." She feels a little lightheaded as she sits up and blinks a few times to see him crouching in front of her.
"Did I say anything bout you partyin, hm?" He cocks his head to one side, again like he was speaking to a child. "Get your head outta that city girl mindset cause you ain't drinkin' tonight. You're helpin' me out."
"Helping you with what?" He suddenly throws three large cellophane bags at her lap and she already knows what it is by the smell. Just to confirm, she looks down and just as she thought, her second-third-non-blood-related-cousin just handed her about three ounces of marijuana. She doesn't touch it, just sort of let's it sit there in her lap while she awkwardly scratches her neck.
"What? You ain't never seen weed before?" He scoffs lightly and stands up. Faith still just looks at him in confusion, her hands hovering over the bags. Of course. It makes sense. A drug dealer.
"No, I have. I just don't smoke it," she goes to hand the bags back to him. She's not even sure that's what his intentions were. The man just handed her enough weed to please an entire — Oh. Maybe I am dumb? "Wait, so, you want me to help you give this to the people who are gonna be at 'The Cut'?"
He taps his index finger to the side of his greasy forehead. "Ding, ding, ding, city girl. Now get your shoes back on, the place is probably startin' to fill up with the rich folks." The way he worded that made it sound like there were "other folks" in the mix, so she thought she'd ask about this 'both sides' thing.
"What did you mean by 'both sides' are gonna be there?"
"Those Kook jackoffs and the Pogue shitheads. All of 'em dumb enough to get drunk enough to buy my shit. Kooks usually put more cash in my pockets so that's why this is a special event. More drunk jackoffs and shitheads means I need more helpin' hands and lucky for you, you're the helpin' hand." He does a funny smile, as if to say 'congratulations this is the best thing you'll ever do in your life.'
A fucking what? Pook and Kogue? No, that wasn't it. The rich ones and I'm assuming the not rich ones? What is this, a Shakespeare play?
Faith realises she's been staring at Barry dumbfounded and shakes her head to snap out of it. "Oh, uhm, alright. So do I just go up to people and ask —" She's cut off with an obnoxious laugh.
"Do I just go up to people and ask," he mocks her by putting on a high pitch and sheepish voice, and waves his hands about to look feminine. "No. Damn. You make it smooth. Sometimes they come to you but they ain't gonna know you got anything on ya with ya lookin' like that. Ya look like you come outta Annie or sum shit." She looks down at herself and is confused. She's dressed in dark washed denim shorts, black high top converse and a dark purple hoodie with some random print on it.
"I ain't talkin bout your clothes, girl. Your face. You look all sad and scared. So you probably gonna have to approach them and just bat your eyelashes and smoothly offer them sum. Aight? Understood?" Well, at least she has Barry's approval of her fashion sense. Now she's just gotta look....not sad and scared?
"Understood."
"Good. Now c'mon we gotta start makin' our way down, it's not a far walk." She follows him out the doorway into the front dried up garden which had a little foldable table and few beach chairs around it. She notices something she didn't catch when she first arrived at Barry's. A dirt bike. She stops to admire it because it's probably the most exciting thing she's seen since arriving at the Outer Banks.
Barry realises she's stopped in her tracks and sees what's she's gawking at. "You ain't allowed to touch that either, city girl." Ah, yes, let me hop on your dirt bike that's way too big for me and speed off into the sunset with three ounces of marijuana in my hoodie pocket. She follows him down the path, hands shoved in her pockets fidgeting with the drugs she realises she's gonna sell to intoxicated teenagers.
How the hell did he afford that — Oh yeah. A drug dealer. That makes sense.
________
i finally got the first chapter
out woooo!! just a little intro
to where faith's journey
begins and no rafe just yet,
next chapter however ;)))
a little bit of insight into
faith's history, but not
all at once, from the way
barry calls her ''city girl'
you can tell he doesn't
really know of her
background yet.
faith and barry's relationship
will also be important in this
story so you will most likely
see him more than you
want to lol