Birdsong, rustling from the kitchen and creaking floorboards. Myra awoke in her room the very next day, the sun shining brightly though the blinds of her dusty windows. She groaned, rolling around as to try and block it out. The brightness of the nice warm summer day was making her eyes burn. She barely remembered how she had gotten into bed last night, only that she had walked home during the sunrise, her worn out shoes against the pavement. The light then hadn't been as excruciating as it was now.
Myra rolled onto her back again, slowly dragging her hands across her face. She was hungover for sure, a feeling which she hated. It made everything feel sticky and unbearable. The birdsong outside of her window annoyed her and she could hear someone rustling around in the kitchen in a rush. It was either her older brother or her dad, she wasn't sure. The two of them would rustle around the house in a very similar way.
Another few minutes past until Myra managed to pull the covers off of her bare legs and swing them over the edge of her bed. She placed her feet on the old worn out wooden floor, groaning as she felt the cold surface sting against the bottom of her feet. With another groan she stood up, slowly getting dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that laid on her desk chair. She left the blinds as they were, not needing her headache to further evolve. Myra dragged her feet to the door of her room, opening it as gently as she could before she peered out. She didn't want to startle whoever was awake and roaming around in the small house. Both her brother and her dad had a habit of starting unnecessary arguments, and she didn't want to be yelled at. She was too hungover for that right now.
At first she didn't see anyone, so she left her room, closing the door behind her. She turned a corner, seeing her dad sitting down on the couch before their old television. Usually he would've had some old cowboy show on, but their power still hadn't returned. The whole cut hadn't had any luck in that division, even if the hurricane was long gone. He had a dry ham sandwich in his hand and on the coffee table stood a open bottle of beer. It wasn't even half empty, so Myra immediately knew that he had just opened it.
Luke looked up as he heard the old floorboards of the living room creak, seeing his daughter emerging from the hallway. "Good morning sweetheart" he greeted her with a raspy voice, catching her off guard slightly. He didn't sound angry or drunk this time, Myra thought. "Good morning dad" she spoke back, not sure that it was actually morning time. Her dad wasn't one to keep track of that. She glanced at a clock that hung on the wall further down the room. It was old and collecting dust, but it still did it's job. It showed 12:34, meaning it wasn't exactly morning at all. "Still no power?" Myra asked, flipping a nearby switch on the wall. "Nope" her dad spoke before taking a big bite of his sandwich. "Right" Myra muttered, combing her fingers through her knotted up hair, "well I'm gonna get ready and head to work"
"Good on you sweetheart"
Myra felt disgusting to say the least. She needed a shower and two or three Advils to morph back into some kind of human form. She looked around the house as she slowly made her way back towards her room, curious as to see her brother. "Dad, is JJ home?" she called out from the hallway. It was unusually quiet in the house so she assumed him to be out causing a ruckus somewhere else. It didn't take long for her dad to answer, the tone of his voice a little pissed off, "no, I don't know where that bastard is"
Myra nodded to herself as she opened the door to her room, slipping in to gather her things. About ten minutes later she was sat on her old bicycle peddling towards figure eight, leaving her home on the cut behind just for a little while. Her backpack bounced gently against her back and her sunglasses rested on the bridge of her nose. It was a hot day, as most days on Kildare island were. The sun danced over every inch of land, stinging with its burning rays. Not a cloud could be seen upon the clear blue sky.
Myra soon reached the island club, leaving her bike at the back. She felt even more yucky now than before, sweat trickling along her temples and back. She groaned as she hurried into the back of the entrance hall, hoping that no one would see her. Cheyenne wasn't there yet, but Myra knew that they had a shift together. However Myra was early, longing for a hot shower. She was quick to grab her uniform from her locker before she rushed off towards the bathroom. She dumped her clothes on the floor before stepping into the small shower, turning the knob. Warm water began to wash over her, soaking her skin and hair. Myra sighed with relief, closing her eyes as she dragged her fingers through her dirty hair, washing all of the sand and salt and grime out of it.
By the time Myra had made herself look decent, Cheyenne had gotten into work. She was sat by the front desk sipping on a cup of coffee as Myra walked out, buttoning the last top button on her shirt. "Afternoon little miss" Cheyenne spoke. "Hey Cheyenne" Myra greeted her, pulling her blonde hair into a ponytail. Cheyenne took another sip of her coffee, slowly flipping through the newspaper. "Anything interesting?" Myra asked as she sat down by the computer, gazing at the aging woman. "Nah, there never is" Cheyenne muttered, flipping another page "just rich people doing rich things... oh and sports". Myra giggled, knowing that her coworker was right. The local newspaper wouldn't write about anything from the cut, it simply wasn't even half as interesting as life around the figure eight.
The day passed slowly, and around four in the afternoon Myra was sent home by her boss seeing as both the hotel and the island club weren't experiencing as many guests as they had hoped for. So Myra said goodbye to Cheyenne, got changed back into her clothes and let the club on her bike. She got off of it in the middle of the island centre, pulling it along her sides as she gazed around. It was a busy day for the shop owners. A lot of people were in motion, shopping and walking around. Some were coming from the nearby beach and others were just roaming around, getting their errands done. A lot of boats were docked down by the water. Myra enjoyed the motion of the small island centre. The chatter and laughter all around her was surprisingly uplifting.
"Myra Maybank, hey"
She stopped and turned around as she heard a familiar voice call her name. It rang into the hot air so effortlessly, taking her by surprised. Rafe had stopped his big black SUV car by the curb and rolled his window down. He was poking head head out, a faint smirk upon his lips. Myra couldn't help but to smile as she stood there holding onto her bike, gazing at him. "Hey" she spoke back, drumming her fingers against the handles of her bike. "Where you going?" Rafe asked, blinking his blue eyes. "I don't know" Myra shrugged, letting the light breeze stroke her cheeks, "home I guess"
"Need a ride?"
"I... uhm, I have my bike" Myra mumbled, glancing down at the old slightly rusty bicycle. "It fits in the trunk, we both know that" Rafe pressed, the smirk upon his lips growing. Myra laughed, gazing around as she let out a, "yeah, yeah it does", before she returned her wandering eyes towards the kook boy. "So what do you say?" Rafe asked, repeating himself, "do you want a ride?". Myra nodded her head gently, "yeah sure"
Rafe turned the car off and got out of it, he grabbed ahold of Myra's bike, their fingertips brushing against each other. It was just like last time, minus the pouring rain, much to Myra's enjoyment. Still, the flashback was strong. Rafe looked exactly like the last time, minus the wet hair and soaked t-shirt. The muscles upon his toned arms flexed in the same way and his cocky grin was just as strong. Myra watched as Rafe loaded the old bike into his expensive car like it was nothing. He then closed the trunk and clapped his hands together, turning back to face her. "Let's go" he spoke, the grin still on his face. "Yeah" Myra giggled, almost skipping on her steps as they began to move, "yeah let's go"
Rafe got into the driver's seat, watching as Myra climbed in on the passenger side. She sat down, buckling her seatbelt before she looked up, brushing a few strands of her blonde hair out of her face, showing off every single freckle and sunkissed spot. Rafe's gaze got caught on her for a split second, his lips parted. He caught himself and gazed away just as she turned her head to face him. "Feeling hungover?" he croaked out, dragging a hand through his hair. "Nah I'm alright" Myra uttered, leaning back in her seat, "I mean I slept until like twelve and felt like shit, but it's nothing that a hot shower and a shift at the kook factory doesn't solve"
Rafe chuckled, scratching his temple. "You worked today?" he asked. "Mhm, for like two hours" Myra answered, sighing. "They sent you home?" Rafe asked, a hint of worry lingering within his voice. "Yeah" Myra shrugged, turning to face the kook boy, "they do that sometimes when there isn't a lot of kook traffic around that heavenly place". Rafe nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, "right, yeah"
The two of them sat in silence for a moment. Myra just relaxed and enjoyed the calmness submersing them, Rafe on the other hand had a bunch of conflicting thoughts spinning around in his head. He contemplated letting it out, but changed his mind, back and forth, prolonging the silence until he couldn't hold it back anymore. "Hey, do you wanna get a milkshake?" he blurted out, blankly staring at the girls with the blue eyes, "I just really crave one". Myra sat up a little straighter, intrigued by his suggestion. "Which flavour?" she asked, leaning forward, "that's the million dollar question"
"Vanilla"
Myra shook her head, making a wrong answer beep kind of noice, which made Rafe raise his eyebrows slightly. She pushed her lips together tightly as she gazed at him, "wrong answer". Rafe shook his head, a chuckle leaving his lips. "That's so not the wrong answer" he argued, lifting his hands up into the air. "It so is" Myra giggled, nodding her head. "No, no way" Rafe spoke teasingly, raising his voice ever so slightly, "vanilla is the best one, I mean come on Maybank
it's a classic choice, it goes with everything"
Myra giggled again, poking his side. "It does but it's so boooring" she urged. "It's uncomplicated" Rafe corrected her, grabbing ahold of her chin. He held it for a moment, gazing at her as he let his lips part. He got stuck on her eyes, and she got sucked into his intoxicating aura. He then cleared his throat, pulling away as he let go of her, leaning back into his own seat. "What's your go to flavour then?" he asked, his gaze flickering between her and the car window on his side. "Uhm, cherry" Myra answered quickly, still feeling the electricity his closeness had left, "always cherry"
Rafe sat up a little straighter, finally letting his gaze remain on her. "So is that a yes to milkshakes then?" he asked, fiddling with the car key. "Yes" Myra clarified with a swift nod of her head and a growing smile upon her lips. "Alright, I know this great place down the road" Rafe said as he started the car and began to drive. It wasn't a far drive, but it felt long in someway. Neither one of them spoke a word, they just sat there as the radio played some absolute summer hit lowly. Rafe tapped his fingers onto the steering wheel along to the stereotypical beat as they turned a corner. He soon slowed down by a diner, turning the wheel to steer the car into the parking lot. "Wait here" he spoke in a rush as he turned the car off and got out and left.
Myra leaned back in her seat, gazing around the parking lot. It wasn't busy, just a few cars parked further down. She saw a family with three children make their way from their red van into the diner. Everything was calm and alive, just like every summer day around the island. It really blossomed in the summer time. The mere presence of the sun worked wonders, it made the small place look alluring to all kinds of people. The beaches, the summer houses, the island club, the docks. All of it, it had a special way to just draw you in. Myra's small house may be slowly falling to pieces, more and more with each passing storm, but she couldn't possibly love the place she had grown up in any more than she already did.
Rafe soon came back with two white paper cups in his hands. He got back into the car, handing her a cup. Myra could see the pinkish red cherry colour popping out underneath the plastic lid. "Thanks" she hummed at Rafe, smiling before she took a sip, "how much do I owe you?". Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his vanilla shake. "Don't worry about it" he assured her, gazing forward. "Really?" Myra questioned, furrowing her eyebrows together faintly. Once more, she didn't like the idea of being in debt to someone like Rafe Cameron. He didn't see it the same way, to him it wasn't anything more than a hand of spare change. "It's just a milkshake, Maybank" he assured her yet again, to which Myra nodded her head.
"Is that like your new thing? Calling me by my last name?" he asked, gulping another sip of the milkshake down. It was really good, with a authentic crisp cherry taste. Rafe turned to look at her, curiosity clear within his blue eyes. "Am I not allowed to call you that?" he asked, the tone of his voice both teasing and a little pushy. Myra scoffed. He had called her Maybank twice since she had gotten into his car, which wasn't too long ago. It wasn't that she didn't like it, it just felt like something one would call her brother and not her. JJ had always been referred to as the Maybank kid, in which people assumed that he would take after their father. Myra had always been called by her name, standing in the shadow of all the chaos that her older brother and father created for themselves. People just didn't seem to have enough energy left for her at the end of the day.
Rafe took her silence as evidence that she wasn't pleased. "I won't call you that if you don't like it" he simply shrugged, taking a sip of his vanilla milkshake. He seemed to understand how some associations with one's family could be complicated. It wasn't that Myra had something against her last name or him calling her by it, it just wasn't what she was used to. "You can call me whatever you want" she mumbled, fiddling with the straw that was stuck into her paper cup. Rafe nodded once, pressing the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth, "yeah right, I'll figure something out... and same goes for you, call me whatever you want, I don't care"
"Okay" Myra said with a half hearted smile before she took a few sips of her milkshake, "this is really good". Rafe's blank expression broke into something a little more joyful as she spoke. "Yeah you think so?" he hummed, seemingly pleased with himself. "Yeah" Myra assured him, raising her cup to cheers him, "thank you for bringing me here". Rafe shrugged like it wasn't a big deal, raising his paper cup before gently bumping it into hers. The both of them took a big sip, their eyes finding one another. There was a moment of eye contact which wasn't alike the other times before, something felt different this time but Myra couldn't put her finger on what it was.
Rafe lowered his cup, still gazing at her. "Liking your vanilla?" Myra teased, leaning in a little closer. Something about Rafe was drawing her in. She wanted to be in his hemisphere, closer and closer each time. "Yeah a lot actually" Rafe spoke back, his voice loud and cocky, "I bet it's a lot better than whatever you got". Myra scoffed playfully, "cherry... and no, this is like one of the best cherry I've ever tasted". Rafe raised his eyebrows, gazing at her, "oh really?". Myra nodded her head enthusiastically as she reached her cup over towards him, "yeah... here taste it, you have to taste it, come on"
Rafe leaned forward, putting her straw into his mouth before he took a sip of her milkshake. He nodded his head gently as he swallowed it. "It's good right?" Myra asked. "Yeah, it's not too bad" Rafe confessed, handing her his own milkshake, "but compare it to this". Myra tasted his milkshake as he watched. She then sat up straighter, nodding swiftly. "It's alright" she spoke to which Rafe scoffed. "It's alright?" he questioned, leaning forward again. "Yeah it's alright... but it's just plain vanilla" Myra teased, making Rafe roll his eyes playfully. "You're out of your mind, it doesn't get any better than this" the kook boy argued, but Myra didn't have any of it, she was more than content with her trustworthy cherry flavoured drink.
A moment of carefree laughter broke out in between the two teenagers, easing up the teasing tension that had been overflowing. Rafe took a deep breath as he calmed down, still gazing at the pouge girl. Myra's face flickered around the car as she took another big sip of her milkshake. Her eyes then landed on Rafe and the same feeling from before came creeping back. Their eye contact lingered, once more feeling different. "Hey you've got..." Rafe trailed, leaning forward to wipe the corner of her mouth with his right thumb, "hang on, you've got some milkshake right here"
Shivers trailed down Myra's spine and electricity shot through her veins. She wasn't sure that Rafe had ever been so close to her before. She felt his breath tickle against her skin as his thumb traced her bottom lip. His blue eyes flickered from her eyes down to her nose and further down to her lips. He lingered in her space for a second longer, biting his bottom lip briefly as he let his thumb fall from her skin. The teasing tension had lifted, yes, but it had been exchanged for a whole different kind of thing. A type of tension that almost made Myra's heart stop, a type of tension that made her question everything.
What was that, she questioned to herself as Rafe pulled away, letting his hands grip his paper cup once more. The silence came back, leaving the both of them a little breathless. What was that?