CHAPTER FIVE.
after the storm

SOMETIMES, SERENA LONGED FOR DEATH.

Not because she was depressed—far from it. Serena cherished her life more than most, at least most of the time. When thoughts of death crossed her mind, she didn't view it as a grim demise but rather as a serene escape. To her, death wasn't the terrifying end that humanity feared; it was a release from the world's burdens.

In her mind, being dead meant freedom from harm and suffering. She envisioned herself resting peacefully in a carefully chosen coffin, surrounded by the love of those she had left behind. In that stillness, there would be no more pain, no more tears—just tranquility. Her heart, once fractured, would finally find solace in eternal rest. That, to Serena, was the true allure of death: peace.

So, who was she to deny herself the solace of dreaming about the day she might be embraced by that ultimate serenity?

It was the day Rafe officially asked her to be his girlfriend after he took her on an impromptu date to New York. That was the last time Serena thought about death. She was plagued with thoughts of what it would be like. How would she go out? When would it be her time? How would it feel to take her last breath? Then Rafe came and made everything better for her at sunset. He touched her gloomy heart and infected it with sunshine, making her glow brighter than the stars they watched at the end of that beautiful day.

But that day couldn't last forever. And while it did last longer than Serena expected, it had to come to an end eventually.

And that end was now here.

Driving had once been therapeutic for Serena. Whenever she and Rafe argued over trivial matters, she would climb into her car and hit the road. The scenic route took her through the entirety of the Outer Banks, including The Cut. Being alone with her thoughts, surrounded by the breathtaking beauty of nature, helped her regulate her emotions. It allowed her to process what she was truly feeling and gave her the time to regain her composure before returning to the man who had upset her.

Never had she run out into a hurricane. Each time, the sun had shone brightly, and the air had been clear—a reflection of the state of grace she had felt, however briefly. But now? Now, Mother Nature had conjured a storm as fierce as the one that had just disrupted Serena's blissful blue skies.

She had rushed out of the Cameron house and into her car, yearning to drive into the sky and disappear forever. Unfortunately, flying cars were still a figment of the imagination, so she had to make do with what she had. She took the scenic route that was intended to clear her mind, but her thoughts were too jumbled for that to happen. No amount of beautiful views could mend her aching heart. As she drove further, she slowly came to a sobering realization: some things simply couldn't be fixed that easily. This seemed to be one of those things.

As she made her way back to Figure Eight, Serena fought against the tears that continued to flow. Her eyes were red and puffy from constant crying, a telltale sign that would be obvious to anyone who saw her. Thankfully, the streets were clear of people, so being spotted was the least of her concerns. However, her desire to remain unnoticed decreased when she felt her phone ding in her lap. She slowed down slightly as she drove through the flooding streets, grabbing her phone and glancing at the screen.

In that brief moment, she couldn't mistake what she saw. Amid the countless messages from Rafe, Zion, Sarah, and others checking in on her, a notification from the Tesla app caught her eye. It wasn't good news.

Her battery was dying.

Serena blinked away her tears and quickly checked her phone again to confirm she wasn't imagining things. She wasn't crazy at all; her battery was nearly depleted, with less than a mile of range left. Her heart sank as she realized her house was definitely more than a mile away. The bridge to Figure Eight was over a mile away. Nothing close to home was in a mile range. This was really happening. Her battery was drained to the point where it could shut off any second while she was still on The Cut.

There was only one person she could blame for this predicament. It wasn't her; it was the very person she had allowed to use her car—someone who had totaled his own vehicle not long ago. This was the price she paid for trusting someone so irresponsible. Now, her battery was minutes away from dying.

"Dammit, Zion!"

Serena came to a full stop in the middle of the street, tossing her phone into the passenger seat as she racked her mind for any solutions. But none came to her—nothing. Her thoughts were blank for once, every resourceful brain cell she once had seemingly hiding from her in this crucial moment. What could she actually do?

She looked around the car, seeing nothing that could help her. If only she could fit a charging station in the glove compartment; that would be incredibly useful right now.

"No..." Serena sniffled, glancing out the window and hoping to spot a charging station. "Not right now. Please, not now."

The streams of raindrops coursing down her window made it difficult to see, but she thought she noticed a gas pump across the street from where she had stopped. She doubted that anyone on The Cut drove a Tesla, meaning there was a good chance there were no charging stations on this side of the island. However, if there was one, it would likely be at the gas station she was staring at. Right? There was only one way to find out.

She shook her head in disbelief as she turned in her seat, scanning the backseat of her car once more, but there was no sign of an umbrella. "God, Serena, why don't you own an umbrella?" she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling up inside her.

Turning her gaze back to the front, she stared out the window at the ferocious storm that had her trapped. Thanks to the still-functioning windshield wipers, she caught glimpses of the streets quickly succumbing to the deluge. The Cut definitely wasn't known for its robust drainage system like Figure Eight; she could already see the water rising, inching closer to her tires. In mere minutes, she knew the roads would be completely submerged, leaving her stranded with no chance of escape anytime soon.

With the reality of her situation sinking in, she realized there was really only one option left that didn't involve waiting in her car for God knows how long without any supplies.

And it wasn't an appealing option

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Serena's whole body felt electrified with each freezing cold droplet that pummeled her as she stepped out of the car. If she were a fool, she might mistake the rain for hail, given how heavily it battered her bare skin. She hesitated in the street, clenching her jaw as the icy water enveloped her from the calves down, rising steadily with each passing minute of the storm. Wearing open-toe shoes and a skirt only made matters worse, leaving her skin exposed to the biting cold.

Her knees buckled from the shock, nearly sending her tumbling into the water below. Thankfully, she caught herself using her side mirror, gripping it tightly as she peered across the street. She squinted, trying to confirm whether there was indeed a charging station. But nothing was visible through the sheets of rain. She wanted to make her way to the station for a better look. A step into the rushing water sent chills through her, and she gritted her teeth, battling the reality that her body temperature was dropping the longer she stood in the cold deluge. With a few long strides, she could have made it—she had long enough legs.

Yet, she just couldn't bring herself to go. She trembled uncontrollably, realizing she needed to get back into her car. It might be on the brink of dying, but she could still use the few remaining minutes to blast the heat and warm herself up. Serena spun around, reaching for the door handle. Just as she was about to climb back into the shelter of her car, her ears caught something in the distance—a sound that cut through the relentless rush of water and the pounding rain.

A voice.

A smile broke across Serena's face as her eyes landed on the boy making his way toward her. She found herself questioning why anyone would be outside in this weather, but the sight of him shirtless and carrying a surfboard provided a plausible answer. His face looked oddly familiar, as if she had seen him before, but she didn't have time to ponder where she might know him from. That was the least of her worries.

When the boy finally reached her, he wore a dumbfounded expression. "What are you doing out in a hurricane? Do you need help?" he asked.

Serena couldn't help but roll her eyes, despite the seriousness of her situation. "No, I'm fine. I'm just enjoying the weather."

"Right. That was dumb," he replied, nodding. "My house is over here. Come inside so you won't get sick from being out in the rain." He gestured toward the gas station she had planned to head to. It dawned on her then that the stairs she had seen connected to a house beside it. Jesus, her situational awareness was terrible.

Serena happily obliged, turning to her car to quickly grab her phone and keys from the driver's seat before locking the door. She followed the boy as they began trudging through the rushing water, which became increasingly difficult to navigate. Serena gritted her teeth, struggling against the current as she felt her feet start to lose their grip on the ground.

She gasped as she stumbled, panic rising within her—she was about to be swept away by the flood. Her eyes widened as she fought to regain her balance, but her worries faded when the boy reached out and offered her his hand. Gratefully, she took hold of it, allowing him to pull her through the current toward the stairs leading to his house. He grasped the banister, letting Serena secure her footing on the steps before he followed. A gentlemen.

As they hurried up the wooden steps, the rain lashed at them even more. Serena couldn't see herself but she was aware of the fact that she looked like a soaked mess. At least she still had a bikini on— she was dressed to get wet.

He opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. Despite her sour mood—thanks to the ongoing storm and the events that had led to her being stranded—she managed to offer a small smile to the boy who had come to her aid. Though she wasn't keen on Pogues, which he clearly was given his residence, she had to admit that he was one of the better ones. She walked into the room, wrapping her arms around herself as she finally allowed herself to relax now that she wasn't being attacked by rain. And the warmth. God, she had never felt so grateful to be warm before, but now she was the most grateful she had ever been.

"What are you doing out in the middle of a hurricane?" the asked, furrowing his brows as he watched her venture further into his room. "You must have a death wish," he chuckled, closing the door.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Well, Pope, it wasn't exactly my idea to be trapped in a hurricane," she replied.

As they hurried up the wooden steps, the rain lashed at them even more fiercely. Serena couldn't see herself, but she was acutely aware that she looked like a drenched mess. At least she was still wearing a bikini—she had dressed for a day in the water.

He opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter first. Despite her sour mood—thanks to the relentless storm and the events that had led to her being stranded—she managed to muster a small smile for the boy who had come to her aid. While she wasn't keen on Pogues, which he clearly was given his residence, she had to admit that he was one of the better ones.

Stepping into the room, she wrapped her arms around herself, finally allowing herself to relax now that she was no longer being battered by the rain. The warmth enveloped her, and she had never felt so grateful for it before; right now, it was the most comfort she had ever experienced.

"What are you doing out in the middle of a hurricane?" he asked, furrowing his brows as he watched her venture further into his room. "You must have a death wish," he chuckled, closing the door behind them.

Serena rolled her eyes. "Well, Pope, it wasn't exactly my idea to be trapped in a hurricane," she replied.

She quickly pieced together where she had seen him before, finally taking a moment to truly scrutinize his face. While she had never personally interacted with him, she knew his friends all too well. But that wasn't what occupied her thoughts at the moment. Grimacing at her reflection in the mirror on his wall, she ran a hand through her soaked hair. There went her hopes of maintaining her hairstyle for another day or two. Rafe was definitely going to pay for stranding her in this weather—even though, deep down, she knew it was her own fault.

As she continued to assess her appearance, she became aware of Pope's silence. Her gaze shifted to him, and she caught him staring a bit too intently for her comfort.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Pope blinked for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. "You know my name?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Do you not know mine?" she shot back.

Pope chuckled, a hint of disbelief in his eyes. "Fair point. I just didn't expect you to remember me."

Serena raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips. "What do you think I am? Some kind of evil bitch?" She scoffed, shaking her head. "We went to school for nine years. Of course I remember you."

Pope nodded, seemingly pleased with her response. Serena felt a twinge of offense that he thought she wouldn't remember who he was. Was that the impression she gave people? That she was so indifferent to those outside her circle? She decided it was best to let it go rather than making a bigger deal out of it. After all, she was in his home.

"Well, you can stay in here until the storm passes," he said. "The couch is more comfortable than my bed, if I'm being honest, so you can have it. I don't mind."

Serena smiled gently as she settled onto the couch next to the door, grateful for the chance to rest her legs. She made sure to sit on the edge so she wouldn't completely wet his couch. "Thank you, Pope," she said sincerely. "I really appreciate you coming to help me. Honestly, I don't know if anyone else would've."

"Don't mention it," he replied. "Oh, and here's a towel so you can dry off a bit."

He grabbed a towel off his dresser and tossed it to her. Serena caught it and immediately wrapped it around her head, allowing her hair to dry. That was her main concern—well, outside of how she was going to get home. It felt heavenly to have the wet strands no longer clinging to her skin. As she adjusted the towel to secure it around her head, she noticed Pope grabbing his own towel, drying himself off in front of her. Her eyes couldn't help but wander along his body as he patted himself dry. For a nerd, he was surprisingly fit—more so than most of the Kooks she knew, who had access to the best gyms in the area. If she didn't know any better, she could see herself finding him attractive.

However, her not-so-innocent thoughts were interrupted by a wave of sleepiness that hit her like a freight train. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she let out a deep yawn, covering her mouth, still aware that it was rude to yawn with her mouth wide open. Though she tried to keep it discreet, Pope noticed her sleepiness out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face her, a gentle smile spreading across his face as he approached.

"If you're tired, you can just sleep in here. I'll leave the room so you'll be more comfortable," he offered.

"It's fine, Pope. I'm not kicking you out of your own room," Serena assured him, resting her head in her hand. "Besides, I'm not that tired anyway. I'll just stay up until the storm passes," she shrugged.

"You sure?" Pope asked, still observing the exhaustion in her eyes. He caught a glimpse of the underlying sadness also in her eyes but chose to ignore it, fearing it might trigger a negative reaction.

Serena nodded. "Positive."

❁

PANIC SURGED THROUGH SERENA AS she jolted awake to a loud bang. Her vision was blurry as she frantically scanned the room for the source of the noise. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she felt her heart rate begin to steady when she recognized that she was still in Pope's room. Her gaze landed on Pope, who sat in his desk chair on the opposite side of the room. When he noticed she had finally opened her eyes, he offered her a small smile.

"It's just some thunder. You can go back to sleep," he assured her.

Serena stifled a yawn as she stretched her arms, noticing the room had grown significantly darker since she had last been awake. A soft blanket now covered her, and a pillow rested beside her on the couch. Her gaze lingered on these small comforts, and she realized with a warm flutter that Pope had taken the time to make her comfortable while she slept. A familiar sensation stirred in her stomach—one she hadn't felt in months, reminiscent of that first moment she laid eyes on Rafe. It was enthrallment, a feeling that both thrilled and terrified her. But that was absurd. It made no sense to feel this way about a boy she had no real interest in. Surely, it was just her mind playing a cruel trick during a moment of vulnerability.

Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she focused on the boy seated in front of her. He was diligently writing notes in his notebook, clearly under the impression that she still needed rest. In truth, she had slept longer than expected and felt more than ready to engage. She didn't want to linger in his room any longer than necessary.

"I wasn't sleeping," she said, her voice a tad defensive.

"That's funny," Pope chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. He had checked on her every few minutes and knew full well she was deep in the best sleep of her life. "You've been out for five hours."
Serena's eyes widened as she glanced at the clock on his nightstand. He wasn't joking; the time read 6:27—almost exactly five hours since she had found herself stranded in the middle of The Cut. "Oh my God. Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"You were asleep for a reason. I didn't want to interrupt your nap," he shrugged, setting the book he had been reading down on his desk. "Why is it such a big deal? Got somewhere to be?"

"Home," she replied, her tone flat.

"Sounds fun," Pope said, sarcasm dripping from his words. Serena rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch, moving toward the window next to his desk.

"Agatha's still at it," he observed. "But she's calmed down a bit. The streets shouldn't be too bad now. You should call someone to come get you before it picks up again."

Serena sighed as she peered out the window. He was right; the hurricane had subsided somewhat, but it still felt too fierce for her comfort. "So... you don't have a charging station here?" she muttered, realizing her hopes of making it home on her own were dashed.

"I tried to convince Pops to get one back when Teslas were all the rage, but you know how cheap parents are sometimes," he explained.

Serena raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. "I actually don't, but I'll take your word for it."

"Oh, I found some clothes in my closet. I think they're your size. At least, I hope so," Pope said as he got up from his desk chair. Serena watched him reach over to grab a pile of clothes from his bed, extending his hands toward her. "I figured you wouldn't want to stay in wet clothes the whole time."

"Thank you," Serena replied, accepting the clothes. A smile tugged at her lips at his unexpected kindness. It felt nice to have someone consider her well-being, especially from a boy with whom she had no real relationship.

It wasn't anything high-end like what Serena was used to. In stark contrast to the brightly colored swimsuit she had been wearing, the clothes Pope had given her were simple: just a plain t-shirt and some acid-wash jeans that felt like they belonged to another era. She considered rejecting the offer out of pride, but he was right—her damp clothes clung uncomfortably to her skin after hours of being soaked. Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all. It surprised her that she had even managed to fall asleep in wet clothes; she certainly hadn't felt at ease.

Making her way into the bathroom attached to his room, she grabbed the towel he had handed her earlier. After closing the door, she looked at her reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall. To her surprise, she didn't look too bad—nothing a brush and some concealer couldn't fix. However, the bags under her eyes were glaringly obvious. The remnants of running mascara only accentuated them, offering anyone with half a brain a clear indication that she had been crying. These weren't mere shadows from fatigue; her mascara hadn't smudged from a rainstorm. For a brief moment, Serena's mind had managed to escape the turmoil of her life, finding distraction in the chaos of Hurricane Agatha, which now seemed like a welcome diversion from what had been the worst day of her life.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to push the day's events to the back of her mind. This wasn't the time to wallow in her emotions or break down in a stranger's bathroom. Doing so would only make her seem unstable. Even though she lacked the energy to maintain the facade she projected to the world, Serena knew better than to reveal her true state to someone she didn't trust. That would shatter the carefully crafted image she had cultivated. After all, who was she if not The Queen of Kooks? Queens didn't cry; they held their heads high and ensured their crowns remained perfectly in place. If only she had recognized that earlier, before allowing her friends to witness her in such a vulnerable moment.

Sending a quick to text to Zion to come and pick her up while the storm was still calm, she sat her phone down on the counter. She dried herself off as quickly as possible, slipping into the warm clothes. It felt good to be dry again, even if the outfit was undeniably ugly. Serena could tell right away that these clothes belonged to Kiara. She couldn't recall ever seeing Pope with any other girl, and if he had, he certainly wasn't as close to them as he was with Kiara. A chuckle escaped her; for a Kook, Kiara had no sense of style whatsoever. Perhaps it was her ongoing struggle to be seen as a Pogue that influenced her fashion choices. Don't even get Serena started on that.

After running her fingers through her hair until it looked somewhat presentable, she opened the door and stepped back into Pope's bedroom. He was still seated in his desk chair, his nose buried in a book that hadn't been there earlier. He glanced up at her for a brief moment, acknowledging her presence, before returning to his reading. Usually, boys dropped to their knees, eager to please her if they were lucky enough to have her in their room. Yet Pope didn't seem entranced by her at all. It was odd. She couldn't help but blame it on the outfit he'd given her.

"Damn you, Kiara," she muttered under her breath.

Clearing her throat to capture his attention, she leaned against the desk. "What are you reading?" she asked, curious as she approached him.

Pope's attempt at secrecy didn't escape her notice. Serena scoffed at his feeble effort and reached out to nudge his arm aside. He resisted at first. "Stop. You're going to judge me," he said.

"Don't worry—I judge everyone for everything," she assured him, waving her hand dismissively. It honestly didn't matter what he was reading, but now she was curious about why he wanted to hide it.

"That makes me worry even more," Pope admitted, finally shifting his arm to let her see the cover. "But... I'm reading a book about forensic pathology."

"Pathology? That's interesting," Serena said thoughtfully. Her knowledge of the subject stemmed from her old obsession with every medical show that aired in middle school. "So, you want to be a doctor or something?"

"I want to be a coroner," he replied.

Her interest was piqued, and she raised an eyebrow at him. Most kids dreamed of becoming firefighters or influencers, and some merely wanted to be rich. He was the first to give an answer that made her want to learn more. "Why a coroner of all things? Do you have a thing for dead bodies?"

"Don't make it weird," Pope shot back, rolling his eyes in annoyance. Sassy boy. "I just find it fascinating to see how natural diseases affect the human body. It's fun to study things like this. Understanding what causes death and what happens afterward makes it less scary."

Serena paused, weighing her thoughts. Death wasn't a foreign concept to her; if anything, she was all too familiar with its emotional toll. However, she had never delved into the scientific aspects of the process. Her disinterest in the topic of decomposition was evident, yet it was Pope's passion and conviction that captivated her. If anyone else were speaking to her about this, she would have told them to get the hell out of her face in an instant.

But Pope was different. He possessed a rare heart—a genuine dedication to understanding something as vital as the decomposition process and its implications. In that moment, Serena realized she had found the person she would trust to handle her body when the time came.

"That... actually makes a lot of sense. I never thought of it that way," she admitted, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But it's still a bit gross. Do you really think you can handle seeing a dead body up close?"

"I've seen a few at funerals," Pope shrugged. "My family tends to have a lot of open caskets for some reason," he joked, though Serena could tell there was a hint of seriousness behind his words.

"Look, the first step of decomposition is autolysis. It's basically when the cells in our bodies start breaking down after we die. I like to call it our self-destruct feature."

"So our bodies can basically eat themselves alive after we die?" Serena asked, glancing up from the book to meet his gaze.

"Pretty much," Pope nodded in agreement. "Check this out."

He turned the book toward her, revealing an illustration. "This shows how our bodies look after the first stage. The cells break down first, then the tissues," he explained. Serena nodded along, even though she didn't fully grasp what she was looking at. He spoke clearly, making sure she could follow along. His patience made her smile as he continued. "This illustration shows what happens in a warm, wet environment. Those factors affect how quickly the process occurs. If it were colder and drier, it would take much longer for this to even start."

"Remind me not to die on this island then," she retorted, shaking her head as she studied the illustration. It wasn't pretty, but then again, neither was death.

"Tell me about it."

Pope continued to guide her through the decomposition process of the human body. Serena hadn't expected to receive a one-on-one tutoring session on a topic she had no interest in exploring on her own. Yet, surprisingly, she found herself more engaged than she anticipated. It was refreshing to witness someone so passionate about a subject that contributed positively to the world.

Unfortunately, growing up in an environment that prioritized money and status above all else hadn't left her much room to develop her own ambitions. She couldn't name a single person in her life who had a genuine passion for anything beyond maintaining their reputation.

Even Zion's talent for technology felt more like a byproduct of his repeated trips to tech camp—a punishment imposed by their mothers that he eventually accepted—rather than a true interest.

"You seem passionate about this. It's not really my cup of tea, but it's nice to see you're genuinely in it for the right reasons. A lot of people choose careers just for the money," she said, standing up straight from where she had been leaning.

"Well, you can't blame them," Pope replied. "Many people don't get the luxury of choosing careers they truly want."

"You consider that a luxury?" Serena asked, intrigued.

"Of course it is," Pope scoffed. "Coroners make good money, but that's not my main reason for wanting to be one. That's just a bonus. A lot of people can't say the same about their dream careers," he explained.

Serena opened her mouth, ready to argue, but then she realized she didn't have a counterpoint. This was something she hadn't pondered deeply. For once, she found herself at a loss for words. "I... You're right."

Pope seemed satisfied with her acknowledgment, nodding as he turned fully in his desk chair. His eyes met hers, and he raised an eyebrow, a question clearly on his mind. "What about you? What's your dream career? Does it pay well?"

"Uh..."

Pope raised his eyebrow higher. "You don't know what you want to do?" Serena could hear the shock in his voice, but it was clear he wasn't judging her—he was genuinely surprised.

"I mean, I don't really know. I've never actually sat down and thought about my future that much," she admitted with a scoff.

"Okay. Well, do you plan on going to college?" he asked.

"I... don't know," Serena admitted, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He was right—the couch was definitely the better option. "I always wanted to go to college. It was a pact Sarah and I made in fourth grade: go to the same school, move to the same town, marry twins, and become sisters. I just never thought past that point," she explained.

"Hmm. Okay," he muttered. "What do you like to do in your free time?"

Serena perked up at the question—this was something she could answer confidently. "I like to shop. I'm really into fashion, too. Sometimes I just cut out different items from magazines and put together outfits. It's so much fun!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident.

"Seems like you'd be into fashion design or maybe styling. I don't know much about that industry, but I'm sure you could make a name for yourself," he suggested.

"I don't know..." Serena said, lowering her gaze to the floor. "I don't think I'd be good at doing it for other people. I'm only really good at styling myself."

"You can be good at whatever you set your mind to be good at," Pope assured her. "You can't be afraid to go after what you want, especially when you have the funds and resources to make it happen," he explained.

"Maybe you're right," she shrugged, considering his words.

"Maybe I am."

A comfortable silence enveloped the room, allowing Serena and Pope to simply exist in each other's presence. For a stranger, Pope had a remarkable ability to make her feel at ease, prompting her to drop the usual "mean girl" facade that kept others at a distance. He was pleasantly surprised they were able to engage in a genuine conversation; it was a first for them. Until now, their interactions had been limited to whispers and rumors, most of which came from JJ and Kiara, who often painted Serena as the biggest bitch around.

He had believed those stories, but as he sat across from her, he found it hard to reconcile that image with the girl before him. Serena looked almost angelic, her features soft and unguarded in the dim light, making it difficult to fathom she could be capable of the vile behavior his friends had described. Yet, he couldn't completely dismiss the memories of her cruelty—he had witnessed her sharp tongue aimed at his friends on multiple occasions. The contrast between the girl he saw now and the one he had known from afar was jarring, leaving him to wonder if there was more to her than the reputation that preceded her.

The last time Pope and Serena had spoken was at their 8th-grade graduation, a distant memory before the Kooks and Pogues had split off to their respective high schools on opposite sides of the island. That brief encounter had been marked by Serena hurling insults at John B for being a Pogue, tossing in a few jabs at JJ and him to ensure they didn't feel left out. After that day, Pope had not seen her again. Although he often caught glimpses of her while making deliveries for his father, he was certain she never spared him a glance. After all, he was a Pogue.

Even in this moment of vulnerability, Serena's ingrained bias against his kind loomed in the background, a barrier he doubted she would easily let go of. Yet here they were, sharing a space that felt oddly intimate, as if the weight of their past interactions had melted away, if only for a moment.

The sound of Serena's phone ringing shattered the comfortable silence. Pope's gaze shifted to her without hesitation, and in that instant, the butterflies in Serena's stomach from his earlier admiration vanished. She reached for her phone, glancing down to see a message from Zion: he was waiting outside for her. She had completely forgotten that she had texted him to come and get her.

A sudden wave of awareness washed over her—while Pope felt less like a stranger in this moment, he still was one, and she was alone in his room. Despite her instinct to trust him, a flicker of caution crept in. It was a bit reckless to be tucked away with someone she hardly knew, even if she doubted he had any cruel intentions.

Serena offered him a small smile, catching Pope in the act of discreetly stealing glances at her. It was endearing, and for a moment, she felt a warmth spread through her. "My brother's outside," she said, her voice cutting through the lingering tension in the room.

Pope's expression shifted slightly, a mix of understanding and disappointment crossing his face. "Oh, got it," he replied, trying to mask his reaction. He didn't want to seem too eager for her to stay, but a part of him wished they had more time together. It felt good to have company outside of his usual friends. It also didn't help that he was in the presence of who he deemed to be the prettiest girl on the island.

"I'm really glad you came to my rescue, Pope. I genuinely appreciate your help," she told him, a sincere smile lighting up her face as stood up from his bed. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't stepped up to be my knight in shining armor."

"Don't mention it. Just doing what's right," he replied, waving her thanks away.

"Well, thanks for being a man of righteousness," she chuckled.

As she made her way toward his bedroom door, his next words stopped her in her tracks. "Maybe I'll see you the next time a storm hits OBX?"

"Maybe," she teased, glancing back at him. "Maybe not."

Pope grinned from ear to ear as he nodded, doing his best to conceal the excitement bubbling within him. When Serena moved to open the bedroom door, he rushed over, surprising her with his eagerness. With a flourish, he opened the door like the gentleman he was, making it all the more difficult for her to step away from him. A soft giggle escaped her lips when he nearly hit himself in the face with the door, but she quickly suppressed it to spare him the embarrassment. He was adorably dorky, and it was a refreshing change.

In a world filled with Kook boys who had perfected the art of playing it cool, Pope stood out. He didn't fit the mold; he was genuine and unpretentious, and that quality was both charming and disarming. Serena realized how tiring it was to constantly navigate the façade that so many others wore. Pope was like a breath of fresh air, offering her a glimpse of authenticity she had been missing.

At this point in her life, that was exactly what she needed. As she stepped through the doorway, she felt a strange reluctance to leave, as if the connection they had forged in such a short time was something worth holding onto. Just before she turned to walk away, she glanced back at him, a small smile playing on her lips, knowing that this moment would linger in her mind long after she left.

"See you around, Pope."

❁

authors note.

AHHHHH SERENA AND POPE FINALLY MET!! well, they already know each other slightly from school, which i will expand a bit more on later on, but they've finally met in this book. i loved writing this chapter so much. they're the best ship i've ever written, and they're only going to get better as the book goes on!

i can't wait for you guys to see glimpses of their relationship in this act ( unfortunately , it is not the main storyline for serena just yet ). but that just masks their moments even sweeter. also, another chapter with 6,000 words? i'm on a roll!

i'll see you guys next time. i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and don't be afraid to leave any opinions!