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FIVE YEARS EARLIER
𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙂𝙄𝘽𝙎𝙊𝙉 𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙇𝙔'𝙎 end of summer party was basically a rite of passage over on the Figure Eight.
The tradition started with the eldest brother ten years prior, and since then, there had been a party every single year. Somehow, the four brothers were aged perfectly apart for there to never be a gap in the festivities.
This year, it was the youngest's turn to invite every possible person he knew, filling up his parent's backyard with teenagers desperate to drink away the fact that they were to return to school in the upcoming weeks.
Charlotte and her friends were ecstatic when they received the invitation from Beckett Gibson. He was only a year older than them, but it was the first year they were permitted to go.
The group was entering high school in less than two weeks, meaning they were finally old enough to move away from the parent-supervised pool parties and toward the Gibson's summer finale and all the chaos it entailed.
Currently, Charlotte Carrera was having the time of her life.
She had lost the group of friends she had arrived with over twenty minute earlier, but she did not care. Instead, she found herself in the company of the party host himself.
Beckett Gibson was the best looking of the four brothers, at least in Charlotte's opinion. Maybe that was because he was the only one who ever paid her any mind, but she wasn't too concerned about that right now.
"You excited for high school?" He wondered, passing her another beer before taking a sip of his own.
Charlotte nodded, an excited flutter in her chest as she accepted the drink from him. "Yeah." She answered. "Should be fun."
Beckett smiled, "My only piece of advice is; if you have Mrs. Crockett, run."
The laugh that fell from Charlotte's lips was forced and way to shrill for even her liking, but Beckett didn't seem to mind.
Seeming satisfied with himself for making the young, pretty girl laugh, he nodded toward the house. "Wanna go somewhere more quiet? I can barely hear you out here."
Being young and naive, Charlotte nodded. When the older, attractive party host wanted to spend time with you, what else were you to say?
In hind sight, no would have been an appropriate answer, but Charlotte didn't really think of that at the time.
Beckett reached out, slipping his hand into Charlotte's before leading her toward the house. Silently, she followed after him, looking more like a lost puppy than anything.
By the time they reached the basement of the Gibson house, Charlotte couldn't tell if the butterflies in her stomach were from nerves or excitement.
"That's better." Beckett breathed, flopping down on the couch. "Sorry, it gets crazy during these things."
"Right." Charlotte agreed, still awkwardly standing, clutching onto her now-warmed beer. "I've heard a lot about these parties. You and your brothers are quite the celebrities."
The older boy grinned, brushing running a hand through his blonde hair. "We just like to make sure everyone has fun."
Her eyes drifted back out toward the party where the music was still blasting. "Your parents are okay with this?"
"Yeah." Beckett shrugged. "They're always away on business. They don't really care what we do."
"Oh." Charlotte muttered, shifting her weight between feet. "Sorry."
"Don't be." Beckett smiled. "It just means I can basically do whatever I want." He paused for a second, eyes roaming Charlotte's figure. "You should come over sometime. When it's just us."
Liking the idea of hanging out with a sophomore, Charlotte nodded eagerly. "Yeah...that would be fun."
Beckett leaned back, resting his arms on the cushions, "You can sit down y'know...I'm not going to bite."
A nervous laugh flew from Charlotte's lips as she nodded. "Right. Sorry, I'm just─I'm a little drunk."
"You're good." He assured, taking her hand and pulling her toward the couch.
Stumbling slightly, Charlotte sat down next to him, looking over with a small smile. Beckett's eyes flitted between her lips and her chest, never really meeting her gaze.
"I want to kiss you right now." He muttered, leaning toward her ever-so-slightly.
Charlotte couldn't decide whether she wanted him to or not, but it didn't really matter as the decision was made for her.
"Yo, Gibson." A voice called, sliding open the glass door to the basement. "Someone's throwing up in your hot tub."
Instantly pulling away from Charlotte, Beckett stood up. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He looked out toward the party, and then back toward the girl in front of him. "Stay here, Charlotte. I'll be right back."
Giving him a small nod, Charlotte turned to watch him go, and when she did, she noticed who it was who had barged in on them.
Rafe Cameron gave Beckett a small nod as he passed, his eyes then settling on Charlotte once the two of them were alone. "What are you doing in here with him?" He questioned, accusation in his tone.
Rolling her eyes, Charlotte leaned back into the couch as she crossed her arms. "Just because you find me annoying, doesn't mean every guy does, Rafe."
Rafe Cameron and Charlotte Carrera were in the same friend group, but they weren't necessarily friends per se.
When they were in the third grade, Rafe threw a basketball at Charlotte's head so hard it knocked out one of her baby teeth. He told her he was doing her a favour.
And when they were in the sixth grade, he cut off a piece of her hair during art class. That was one an accident according to him.
Just last year in eighth grade, Rafe told everyone that Charlotte was still afraid of the dark...which she was, but so what!
So, to see him know, watching her like she had just committed a crime, Charlotte was not entirely pleased.
"He's trying to sleep with you, Charlotte. Are you seriously that naive?" Rafe had taken a couple of steps forward. "And then he'll tell all his buddies how easy you are. You really want to start high school being the biggest slut of our year?
Charlotte sat up, her minimal annoyance turning to straight-out shock. "Are you kidding me right now?" She demanded, glaring at him with a look that could kill. "I wasn't going to sleep with him, Rafe."
She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol, or the current embarrassment she was feeling, but Charlotte Carrera started crying right then and there.
The tears came silently, brimming over her eyes and falling down her cheeks.
Rafe paused for a moment, his eyes landing on her teary face. "Are you crying?"
"No." Charlotte lied, voice wobbling as she quickly wiped at her face.
"Come on, Charlotte, I didn't mean to make you cry." Rafe groaned, taking a few strides so he could sit next to her.
"Look Rafe, I get that you hate me, but you don't have to call me a slut." Charlotte snapped, her teary eyes turning on him.
Rafe furrowed his brows. "I wasn't calling you a slut! I was just trying to warn you that Beckett Gibson would be more than happy to label you as one, whether you slept with him or not."
Charlotte crossed her arms across her chest again. "I'm drunk." She admitted. "I didn't realize he was trying to get in my pants."
A small laugh fell from Rafe's lips. "You really are naive."
She wanted to be offended, but she really couldn't be. Rafe was right. Trying to hide her smile, Charlotte sniffled. "I'm trusting. There's a difference."
Rafe shook his head as he grinned. "Not really."
He let out a laugh as Charlotte glared at him again, and Charlotte thought about how she loved the way his laugh sounded. She had never noticed how much she loved it before.
Little did she know, that at the exact moment, Rafe Cameron was thinking about how beautiful Charlotte Carrera was. He thought about how beautiful she was every day. He thought about her everyday.
"And for the record," Rafe muttered, "I don't hate you, Charlotte."
Unexpected butterflies erupted in Charlotte's stomach as she looked over at him, studying his face. She felt something she had never felt before as she looked at him, a sudden pull in her heart.
Beckett Gibson never came back to the basement that night. Charlotte later found out it was because he had hooked up with another freshman named Sabrina.
But it didn't matter anyway.
That night, Charlotte and Rafe had sat in the basement, simply talking to one another. They soon realized they didn't actually hate each other. Quite the opposite to be honest.
Two months later they started dating.
Oh, and for the record, there had never been anyone throwing up in the hot tub.
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