"Wait!"
Rafe's voice rang out in a rush through the busy restaurant as Myra walked off, the black plastic tray stuck underneath her right arm. She felt his hand grab her wrist firmly, stopping her before pulling her back, forcing her to look at him. He towered before her, his Atlantic blue eyes beaming with a bright haze in the dim light of the room. It was almost impossible for her to look away. He had something alluring about him. "What?" she asked a little taken aback, blinking her eyes as she felt his gaze dance over her, inspecting every inch of her small framed body. She suddenly felt a little insecure, pushing her shoulders back as to try and fight the uneasy feeling. She was aware that she wasn't the prettiest girl around the island, with her boney bruised knees and tangled blonde hair, but she still hated the weakening feeling she got when she was reminded of it.
Rafe looked at her, remaining quiet for a moment longer as he seemed to have gotten himself lost within a wild array of thoughts. She pulled her wrist away from his grasp, raising her eyebrows slightly, "cat got your tongue or what?". As she questioned him, he seemed to snap back to reality. "What about that drink with me now?" Rafe asked, completely ignoring the fact that he had talked down to her only a minute ago. Myra gazed around, still feeling a little uneasy beneath his blatant stare. The look in his eyes weren't making anything easier either. "I'm working" she then declared, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She couldn't pull away, not for him. She needed this job badly. "After work?" Rafe insisted, a faint smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. Myra sighed, rolling her eyes before she turned around and walked off. She didn't answer, she hoped that he would get the hint anyways. He didn't. Or maybe he did and just didn't care. Rafe was relentless, the smirk remaining clear on his lips as he began to follow her, "at what time do you get off tonight?"
"It's none of your business" Myra muttered back to him dryly as she walked up to a table to clear it of dirty dishes. "Wow, someone's in a mood tonight" Rafe hissed, glancing down at her. His nasty comment made Myra scoff, almost dropping a glass that she was holding. "Yeah and I have every right to be" Myra spat, turning around to face Rafe once more "I actually had a half decent time with you last night, whatever that even was, but you didn't think to mention that you got into a fight with my brother again just before you ran off with me?"
Rafe fell silent as the words he did not want to hear left Myra's lips. She could see him tense up, his jaw clenching as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his expensive dress pants. He gazed off, clearly annoyed and somewhat pissed off. He didn't like when people questioned his actions. He knew what he was doing, always. Other peoples judgement was something that he did not need. He didn't want to see the mellow expression upon Myra's face either, so he avoided eye contact profusely. Rafe could hear the pouge girl scoff again before she walked off, leaving him standing all alone by the table. He had a hard time piecing everything together in his jumbled up mind, how he could despise her brother so badly while at the same time finding himself somehow so draw towards her. They came from the same family and they looked so much alike, the same smile and the same nose and eyes, yet things were so different with her.
"We didn't fight" Rafe called out, gathering himself just before he walked over to her, once more following her behind. "I don't care" Myra muttered, avoiding Rafe's obvious stare as she went about the restaurant. "It wasn't a fight, just a uhm discussion I would say" Rafe repeated, thinking back to the altercation that had taken place between him, his friends and the pouge boy in the bathroom of the very same building they were in right now. He wasn't lying when he said that he wouldn't call it a fight, for he would most definitely not. A fight included, most often, balled up fists colliding and at least a few droplets of blood. A fight was yelling and screaming and arguing. Not agreeing, tension in the air and heavily beating hearts. A fight brought uncontrollable anger and grittet teeth. Fire, ice and bitterness. Sure Rafe had every intention to actually hit JJ that night, but he didn't. He would've if the security guard wouldn't have stopped them, but nevertheless, in the end he never touched him. So Rafe didn't understand why Myra was acting so almighty and annoyed.
"What did he tell you?" Rafe asked upon not getting an answer, more than a displeasing scoff, to his previous statement, "your brother I mean". Myra stopped by another table, sighing as she began to pick up empty glasses and plates, stacking them onto her black tray. Rafe's words had seemingly caught her attention, making her look at him for a split second. "Not much" she answered truthfully, blinking her eyes. Rafe nodded slowly, pushing his lips together. He wondered why JJ hadn't ratted him out, he wasn't one who came of easily unnerved or frightened. He was like a cockroach, he could crawl back from anything. Rafe doubted that JJ would ever back down.
Myra cleared the table and began to walk off again, heading to the back of the restaurant. Rafe was quick to follow her, catching up to her side as he spoke, "come on, what time does your shift end?". Myra stopped by the door to the kitchen, looking sternly at Rafe. "Please stop talking" she uttered, hoping he would understand just how serious she was being in that moment. "There's a party happening tonight" Rafe went on, completely ignoring the way she was gazing at him. "Shut up" she sighed. "It's out on the south side, your headquarters" Rafe blabbered on, blocking her from the door. He didn't want her to leave, he needed her to listen to what he was saying. Like a stupid party was so meaningful that nothing else in the world could top it, Myra thought. She rolled her eyes, not responding as she tried to push past him, wanting to drop the dirty dishes on her tray off in the back of the kitchen. "Are you going?" Rafe asked. "I don't know" Myra shrugged, not having heard of the party until now but playing it off. She wanted to leave something to the imagination for Rafe, like she was actually contemplating going to a party which she wasn't invited to. "It's at Barry's, you know him... right?" Rafe asked, leaning down a little. He had lowered his voice slightly, like talking about the known south side dealer was frowned upon around where he grew up. Myra raised her eyebrows, thinking to herself that Rafe was being ridiculous by not wanting anyone to hear them. It was a little stuck up, and completely unnecessary. "I know" Myra lied, still trying to play cool with every word that was exchanged between the two of them, the kook and the pouge, "and yes, I know him too, we're familiar at least"
That was true. Her and Barry weren't strangers, most definitely not, but they weren't exactly friends either. They were more of close acquaintances by now. She knew him through the world of drugs on the south side. Both her and her father bought from him, even though she kept that hidden from mostly everyone. Barry offered quick services and fairly low prices. Myra found him quite funny, and kinda chill too. He took no bullshit, but he didn't care about much either, which was a odd combination. Whenever she needed a break from life or had nothing better to do she would go to Barry's place to hang out, sometimes to smoke and sometimes not. Her and the dark haired boy often had good conversations anyway, which was enough to like his shithole of a place, or home as he referred to it to.
"So have a drink with me at Barry's tonight?"
Have a drink with me, the same sentence rolling off his tongue again. Over and over again, Myra got the feeling that Rafe wouldn't stop on insisting until he finally got his will through, until she agreed to have a drink with him. It was a conflict of mind, for she wasn't one to usually turn down the offer of a opportunity to drink yet she didn't want to send out the wrong signals. "I don't even know if I'm going yet" Myra pointed out. Rafe eyed her, something curious now sparking in his blue eyes. "You should go" he encouraged her. She had to think about it. She knew that Barry wouldn't mind if she showed up, he's the kind of person who loves a party, but will never organize one. If he's throwing a party, it's more of a messy get together at his house after dark for anyone who's bored. He wouldn't personally invite people, he'd just drop the word and wait for it to spread around. And it often did, like a wildfire, for he was a popular pouge boy.
Myra took a moment to think about it, sighing quietly as she pushed passed Rafe and made her way into the kitchen. She dropped the dirty dishes of off her tray by the large industrial dish washer before she turned on her heels to walk out to the busy restaurant once more. Rafe stood by the door awaiting her, his feet shuffling around on the same part of the floor. His eyes still scanned over her, shifting from light to dark and then back. He was hard to understand, to say the least. "So hang on" Myra spoke as she caught a glimpse of him, "you mean to tell me that you're going to a party on the south side?"
"Yeah" Rafe spoke nonchalantly, that one plain word rolling off of his tongue like it was simple. "You're actually going to the cut out of you own free will?" Myra questioned again, remembering what he had said to her before. How he couldn't imagine how anyone could want to live out there, like it was insanity. "Tonight yes" Rafe spoke clearly, leaning in a little "but I can leave whenever I please... it's a party, come on"
"I thought you hated pouges?"
Myra's question was clear and laced with unavoidable bitterness. She held the black plastic tray in her hands, fiddling with it in a agitated kind of way as she heard a amused chuckle slip passed Rafe's lips. "I do" Rafe agreed, nodding his head, "but Barry's alright". Myra scoffed, tucking the tray underneath her right arm. She was getting herself ready to leave, needing to head back to work but more so to be out of his zone. "So Barry's alright and I'm sweet huh?" she questioned, still bitterly. It made Rafe smirk, which only infuriated Myra further. She didn't want him to see her as a joke, or some kind of a useless object. "Sometimes you are yeah" Rafe hummed, clearly trying to tease her. She lifted her eyebrows in dismay, "sometimes?"
"Yeah sometimes" Rafe clarified, once more leaning down towards her face, "but you've got a pretty face so I wouldn't worry about it if I was you". Myra now looked away, partly mortified by his words and partly flattered. She didn't want to be flattered, it stung to admit to herself that she in fact was, because he's a kook. Kooks shouldn't matter to her, it was a old story told cautiously by her brother by now. Myra didn't need someone like Rafe to tell her that she was pretty, but when he did, she couldn't hold back a blush. A annoyingly stupid flush of light pink gracing her two cheeks and the tip of her nose. She looked away, not wanting him to notice, praying in her head that he did not. But Rafe was smirking, so surely he understood what kind of effect his words had on the pouge girl stood before him.
Myra heard another chuckle spill out of Rafe's mouth. It was a self confident one, filled with amusement and cockiness. Myra took a step back, rolling back and forth on her feet, feeling her heart beat anxiously inside of her chest. "I have to get back to work" she then spoke up, gazing at Rafe. Their eyes met for a split second, making her heart skip yet another beat. She wasn't sure if she liked his presence or if it infuriated her, maybe a little bit of both?
"Sure" Rafe hummed, nodding his head slightly as the cocky tone lingered on his voice, "but I'll see you tonight at Barry's place"
Myra had walked off after he had spoken, not intending to see Rafe again that night, but something drew her mind towards Barry's shitty home. As she rode her bike back to the south side after her shift had ended, she couldn't focus on anything else. Flashes of Rafe's blue eyes shining in the dimly lit restaurant kept hitting her. She had wondered why he had been there at the bar drinking all alone, but she figured by now that it had surely been somewhat of a pre game for him. His other kook friends probably didn't want to hang around the cut, even for a party.
Myra got home a little after ten o'clock that evening, only to realize that the house was empty. Neither her dad or her brother was home and everything laid dark and still, which tipped her wandering mind over the edge. Fine, she thought to herself, grabbing a hold of a nearby bottle of vodka that belonged to her father, I guess I'm going to a party. It wasn't for him, Rafe Cameron, no. It was a way to mindlessly make time pass. A stress reliever, a way to calm the rushing anxiety from before. Nothing more, nothing less.
Myra downed three big gulps of the vodka, grimacing as the clear liquid burned at the back of her throat. She walked around the small house with the bottle in her right hand, just making sure that nobody was home. It wasn't much left in the bottle, maybe a third or a fourth of it? So Myra took another big gulp, shaking her head vigorously afterwards. She put the bottle in the pocket of her jacket, thinking that her father would surely not notice. He was often so out of it that she figured that he couldn't remember what he had drank and not. He wouldn't miss a bottle.
Myra got changed into a new outfit. It wasn't a fancy one by any means, a pair of jeans and a strappy tank top, just something fresher. The sun had been warm today, thus making previously worn clothes feel like they needed a wash. She quickly freshened herself up, dragging a brush through her tangled hair before she stopped before a mirror in her room. Myra caught a glimpse of herself, stepping closer to the reflective glass. She blinked a few times as she just stood there, looking at herself. She let her hands trail along the sun kissed skin upon her face, seeing the small barely distinguishable freckles by her nose. She felt her dry lips, her fingertips brushing over them. She took notice of the faint pink upon her cheeks and the tiny bumps on her forehead. She let her fingertips wander across the bridge of her nose and down to her chin and jaw. Rafe's words echoed in her head. She had a pretty face. She wasn't sure if she could believe it.
Ten minutes later, with a thick layer of cherry flavoured chapstick on her lips and a few more gulps of vodka in her stomach, Myra headed out. She walked through the woods by the back of her house, taking a shortcut to Barry's place. It was dark, but she knew where she was going. She had walked that path a lot of times before. It wasn't a long walk, only about ten minutes or so. A few fallen branches creaked beneath her feet as she found her way further into the woods, soon hearing loud music coming from a house in the distance. She recognized it to be Barry's kind of music, he had a distinctive taste in rap and r'n'b.
The messy patched together home was filled with people, mostly pouges. Myra greeted a few boys and girls that she knew from school as she made her way across the yard. People in all ages were sitting around smoking and talking, the music blaring out across the large patch of dry grass from the house. Myra dragged her feet up the wobbly steps to the front porch, careful not to bump into the people that was walking past her. She made her way into the house, her father's vodka bottle now in her hand. She took a sip, scrunching her nose up, as she looked around. Through the dim darkness of the house she saw someone walking up to her, soon hearing his voice.
"Look who it is"
She recognized Barry's loud voice ringing through the humid air. "Blondie" the pouge boy with the dark hair and dark eyes spoke as he stopped before her, grinning in a drunken kind of way. She was almost sure that he was high too, most probably. "Hey Barry" Myra greeted him. Barry then held out a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey towards her, offering her a sip. She took it without a word, chugging a big gulp down before handing the bottle back. "This tastes like shit" she exclaimed, hearing Barry laugh. "Then have another shot" Barry urged, handing the bottle back to her. The whiskey was nasty, but Myra wasn't one to turn down a free drink. She giggled before she took another sip of it, once more scrunching her nose up, "as I said... this is pure shit Barry"
Myra made her way through the house, greeting a few more people that she was acquainted with from the south side. She made a stop by a boy whom she had gone to school with this year, Cody Carpenter. He was a year older than her, and he was an avid surfer. She sometimes bumped into him as she went surfing with her brother. They weren't close by any means, but they could always talk about the best waves around the island. And so they did tonight too as Cody offered her a drink in a red plastic cup. She took it with a gentle smile, taking a sip of it as she listened to him talk about his new surf board which he had worked all year to save up money to buy it. The drink tasted like cheap tequila and peach juice. It wasn't the best thing she had ever had to drink, but it was surely better than the vodka stashed in her pocket.
A moment later Myra began to feel uneasy. Not because of the alcohol that he had consumed, but more so because of a feeling of being watched that she couldn't seem to shake. She gazed around, still half heartedly listening to Cody talk. She held her drink in her hands, finally laying her eyes on the source of her uneasiness. Rafe Cameron, of course. He was stood a few feet away, leaned up against the doorway with a drink in his hand. He was watching her from across the room, his blue eyes glued onto her skin. She blinked a few times, not able to pull her gaze away from him. He stood still, confidence surrounding him. He slowly raised his cup, taking a sip of whatever he was drinking as he kept his gaze on her. A second later he let his gaze flicker to Cody who was stood next to her, his eyebrows furrowing a little. He seemed unamused, weirdly enough.
Myra gazed away, not wanting to interact further with Rafe. He seemed conflicted, and she didn't want to get tangled up with whatever that was going on inside of his head. So she turned her focus back to Cody, jumping back into their surfing conversation. She barely managed to get two sips of her drink down before Rafe showed up behind her, stroking a strand of her blonde hair behind her right ear.
"Hey Myra, nice to see you here"