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The soft morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of Imani's room, casting a golden glow over the walls and spilling across the hardwood floor. The warmth touched her face first, slowly pulling her from the depths of sleep. Imani blinked her eyes open, squinting against the light as she stretched, sighing with satisfaction.

It felt too good to not leave the bed today.

Just as she began to enjoy the peace, her bedroom door swung open, and without warning, Kiara bolted across the room and leapt onto her bed.

"Jesus, Kie!" Imani shouted, clutching her chest, startled wide awake now.

Kiara, sprawled across the blankets with a mischievous grin plastered on her face, didn't say anything at first, just kept that odd smile that made Imani uneasy.

"Why are you giving me that creepy smile?" Imani asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

Kiara finally sat up, bouncing a little on the bed. "I'm skipping school today," she announced proudly. "To hangout with the boys."

Imani rolled her eyes, still rubbing the last remnants of sleep from them. "And?"

"And..." Kiara dragged out the word, flashing her a pleading look, "I need you to pretend to be Mom and call the school. Say I'm sick."

Imani sighed, sitting up straighter in bed. "Why don't you just call?"

Kiara waved her hand dismissively. "Because you do a better impression of Mom. Come on, you know you're good at it."

Imani gave her a long, unimpressed stare, but Kiara's puppy dog eyes were hard to resist. With a resigned sigh, Imani grabbed her phone from the nightstand. "Fine, but you owe me."

Kiara grinned in victory as Imani dialed the school's number, clearing her throat.

"Hi, this is Anna Carrera," Imani said, slipping into her best impression of their mother's authoritative tone. "I'm calling to inform you that my daughter Kiara Carrera won't be attending today because..." she paused, glancing at Kiara with a cheeky glint in her eyes. "She's got a pretty bad case of diarrhea."

Kiara's jaw dropped. "What?!"

Imani barely contained her laughter as she finished the call, managing to sound serious. "Yes, diarrhoea. It just came on suddenly. Poor thing's been in the bathroom all morning." With that, she hung up the phone.

Kiara's face turned red with embarrassment. "Diarrhea? Really?!" she yelled, grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it at Imani.

Imani dodged it easily, bursting into laughter as she hopped off the bed. "Hey, you wanted me to sound convincing!"

Kiara huffed, scrambling to grab another pillow, but Imani was already halfway out the door, grinning over her shoulder. "You're welcome!" she called, laughing as she disappeared down the hall.

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The halls of Kildare Academy buzzed with energy as Imani made her way through the crowded corridor. She walked with, Alice and Violet, who were deep in conversation about their weekend plans.

"Spa weekend or movie marathon weekend?" Violet asked.

"Spa," both Imani and Alice answered.

As they passed by the lockers, Imani overheard a familiar voice that made her pause. Cynthia Davis, the school's queen bee, was holding court as usual, surrounded by her group of friends. They hung on her every word like it was gospel, and today, she had a juicy story to tell.

"I'm telling you, girls, my party was insane last night," Cynthia gushed, flipping her perfect strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. Imani tried not to listen, but she couldn't help it. "Rafe came, and well... let's just say he's even better than I thought."

Imani's heart stopped. Rafe? Last night? With Cynthia?

But he was speaking with her on the phone last night.

"Wait, you had sex with Rafe?" one of Cynthia's minion's squealed, barely able to contain her excitement.

Cynthia grinned, the type of smile that made it clear she was enjoying the attention. "Yep. We were up all night."

Imani's stomach twisted painfully. It felt like someone had punched her in the gut. She had thought Rafe was different, that maybe—just maybe—there was something real between them. The way he had been flirting with her for weeks, the secret glances they shared... Had it all been a lie? Was she just another game to him?

"Imani? You okay?" Alice asked, noticing the shift in her expression.

Imani blinked, snapping back to the present. "Yeah," she muttered, forcing a tight smile. "I'm fine."

But she wasn't. Her heart was pounding, her hands suddenly clammy. She couldn't believe she'd been so naive.

And then Rafe, fresh off his suspension, strolled through the doors of the school like he owned the place. Heads turned as he made his way down the hall, his presence commanding attention.

Her heart raced as he came closer, her breath catching in her throat. Was he coming toward her? Would he flash her that crooked smile, say something only she would understand?

Maybe Cynthia was just talking trash. Maybe—

But then he walked right past her.

Instead, he headed straight for Cynthia, who was standing by her locker, grinning like she had won some sort of prize. Rafe leaned in close, murmuring something to Cynthia, and whatever he said made her laugh, all while the girls surrounding them watched in awe.

Imani's chest tightened as she watched them walk away together, Rafe's arm brushing casually against Cynthia's. The group of girls erupted into giggles, gushing over how perfect they looked together.

Her vision blurred as her eyes brimmed with tears. But Imani refused to cry—not here, not now. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms to steady herself. She wouldn't give Rafe the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten under her skin.

Alice glanced at Imani, her face filled with sympathy. "Oh, Imani," she whispered. "I told you boys like him only want one thing."

"I know," Imani murmured.

"Come on, let's get to class," Violet said softly, linking her arm with Imani's.

Imani nodded stiffly, her throat tight with the effort of holding back her emotions. As they walked away, she stole one last glance over her shoulder at Rafe and Cynthia, her heart aching with the realisation that she might have been just another girl to him after all.

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Imani sat at her desk, her eyes glued to the pages of her book, though she hadn't processed a single word. Her mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, still reeling from what she'd heard earlier. She clenched her jaw, trying to focus on the words in front of her, anything to keep from thinking about him.

The classroom was quiet except for the soft shuffle of papers and the low murmur of students talking before the teacher arrived. Imani liked it this way—peaceful, a chance to hide in plain sight.

But then, she heard a voice nearby, one she instantly recognised.

"Move," Rafe's deep voice ordered.

Imani's stomach flipped, but she kept her eyes fixed on her book, pretending she didn't hear him. Maybe he would just walk away. Maybe she could stay invisible.

The boy next to her, a quiet kid named Mark, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh, this is my spot," he mumbled.

Rafe's response was cold, dripping with arrogance. "Like I give a fuck. I said move."

Imani felt her heart beat faster, and she gripped the edges of her book tightly. She didn't need to look to know that Mark had gotten up—too intimidated to argue with Rafe. She could feel the space next to her shift as Mark grabbed his bag and scrambled to find another seat.

She could feel the weight of eyes on her, the classroom falling into an uneasy silence as everyone watched the scene unfold. Her cheeks flushed with heat, her pulse quickening. She hated the attention, the way her space was now invaded.

"What're you all looking at?" Rafe asked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Never seen a girl and a guy sit next each other?"

The tension in the room broke slightly as they looked away, but Imani could still feel their curious glances.

She froze when she heard Rafe pull the chair next to hers, the screech of metal legs against the floor loud in the semi quiet room.

He didn't say anything at first, but she could feel him there, just waiting for her to acknowledge him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she prayed he would just leave her alone.

But then she felt it—his hand, warm and close, brushing lightly against her cheek. His fingers stroked the side of her face, slow and deliberate, trying to draw her attention. Imani's breath hitched, her body tensing as the familiar heat of his touch sent shivers down her spine. For a second, the world around them seemed to shrink, but she snapped out of it just as quickly.

She jerked away, her chair scraping the floor as she moved to the side, putting distance between them. She didn't dare look at him, but the action spoke loudly enough.

But Rafe wasn't having it. She barely had a moment to breathe before she felt a firm hand grip the back of her chair, pulling it right back toward him. The force of it made her gasp softly, her body now just inches from his again.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" Rafe's voice was low, almost soft, but there was a hint of frustration underneath it. "What's wrong?"

Imani swallowed hard, staring straight ahead. She wasn't going to look at him. She wouldn't let him get to her. Not again.

But the tension in the air between them was thick. She could feel his eyes on her, waiting, pushing for a response. Her hands curled into fists in her lap, her whole body rigid with the effort it took not to acknowledge him.

Before Rafe could say anything else, the door opened and the teacher entered the room, signaling the start of the lesson. Imani breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption, but her relief was short-lived.

The entire class, she could feel Rafe's presence next to her—his hand casually draped on the back of her chair. His fingers lazily played with the ends of her hair, twisting and tugging gently, like he had every right to do it. Every now and then, he'd brush his knuckles against her neck, sending chills down her spine that she desperately tried to ignore.

Imani sat stiffly, staring at the chalkboard but not hearing a word the teacher said. Every fiber of her being was focused on keeping herself calm, not giving Rafe the satisfaction of seeing how much he affected her. But inside, her emotions were a tangled mess—anger, confusion, and something she didn't want to admit, something she hated herself for feeling whenever Rafe was near.

She wouldn't let him get to her. Not again.

But with every brush of his fingers against her hair, it became harder to remember why.

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Imani walked down the empty hallway, the sound of her footsteps echoing softly off the walls. It was a brief moment of peace, away from the constant drama of the day, away from Rafe and the confusion that came with him. She could finally breathe. Or so she thought.

Just as she rounded the corner, Cynthia Davis stepped in front of her, blocking her path with a too sweet smile on her face. Imani instantly tensed. She knew that look—syrupy, fake, and laced with hidden intentions.

"Hey, Imani!" Cynthia chirped. "I just wanted to say, i'm loving the hair. I mean, honestly? Totally works on you."

Imani narrowed her eyes, folding her arms across her chest. She didn't have time for this. "Cut the act, Cynthia."

Cynthia's smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, tilting her head with mock innocence. "What do you mean?"

"Stop with the fake compliments," Imani said, her voice firm. "If you stopped me, it's for a reason, so get to the point. I could be in class right now instead of standing here listening to you pretend to be nice."

Cynthia's sugary demeanour dropped in an instant. She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as her lips curled into a smirk. "Fine. I saw you last week at the party."

Imani raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Okay, Sherlock? So did everyone else in Figure Eight."

Cynthia's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with a kind of cruel satisfaction. "Yeah, but not everyone else saw you and Rafe outside together."

Imani kept her expression cool, refusing to give Cynthia the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. "So what?"

"So," Cynthia drawled, leaning in just a little closer, her voice dripping with condescension, "it's such a shame that you couldn't hold Rafe's attention for too long. You must've been really boring that he turned to me instead."

Imani's jaw clenched, but she didn't let her expression falter. She had spent enough time around girls like Cynthia to know exactly what this was—a power play. She was trying to get under Imani's skin, to make her doubt herself, to make her feel small. But Imani refused to give her the satisfaction.

"That's funny," Imani said, her voice icy as she locked eyes with Cynthia. "I didn't realise you were so insecure that you had to come find me in an empty hallway just to make yourself feel better."

Cynthia blinked, clearly caught off guard by the calm in Imani's voice.

Imani squared her shoulders, her expression unwavering as she leaned into Cynthia's insults. "But maybe you're right. I must be so boring that my on and off boyfriend flirted with other girls for attention." She feigned a gasp, her voice dripping with mock surprise. "But that's not my boyfriend who did that; it's yours."

Cynthia's eyes narrowed, anger flashing across her face. "You're lying," she shot back, her voice low and defensive.

Imani ignored her, pressing on. "I must be boring that I slept with my boyfriend's best friend," she pretended to think. "Wait a second, that's you again."

"Like you're so innocent," Cynthia huffed, trying to regain control. "You wouldn't even know how to keep a guy interested."

Imani rolled her eyes, unfazed. "But nothing beats the cake when I slept with my own best friend's boyfriend. But then again, that's not me."

Cynthia's face flushed with anger. "They were on a break!"

"Sure," Imani replied casually, rolling her eyes. "At least I know what loyalty means. Maybe you should do your research on it."

Cynthia's expression twisted into a snarl, and she leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a threatening whisper. "You better watch yourself, Imani. My dad can ruin your parent's business with just a word."

Imani let out a laugh that surprised even her. "Your dad? The one who's whispered around for his dodgy businesses? Please, go ahead. He's already got a reputation for it. I'm not scared of a little threat from someone whose family can't even keep their head above water."

Cynthia's eyes blazed with fury, but Imani turned on her heel, not giving her a chance to respond. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her, the thrill of standing up for herself—especially against someone like Cynthia. It felt good to walk away, head held high.

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Rafe jogged to a stop at the football pitch, wiping sweat from his brow with his shirt as he caught his breath. His friend, Jake ran up beside him,. They had just finished a lap, and Rafe was still buzzing from the adrenaline.

"Hey," Rafe said, his brow furrowing slightly. "What does it mean when a girl is giving you the silent treatment?"

Jake raised an eyebrow, a laugh escaping his lips. "Who'd you piss off this time?"

Rafe rolled his eyes, waving off the joke. "I'm serious. What does it mean?"

Jake shrugged, his expression turning thoughtful as he leaned against a goalpost. "Well, there could be a few reasons. Maybe she's mad about something you did, or she's upset you didn't give her attention. Or, you know, she could just be jealous. Girl's can be unpredictable."

As Jake spoke, Rafe's gaze wandered across the pitch, and he spotted Imani walking with her friends. She caught his eye for a moment, but then scrunched her nose and looked away, her expression shifting to one of irritation.

Was she really that upset with him?

"Why are you smiling?" Jake asked, noticing the grin creeping onto Rafe's face.

Rafe couldn't help it, he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "My girl is jealous."

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Imani stepped out of her room, still feeling the lingering warmth of the shower on her skin. She was dressed in shorts and a cropped vest, her hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. The soft glow of her bedside lamp illuminated the room, but as she turned the corner, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Rafe sitting on the edge of her bed, looking relaxed and casual.

"Damn it, Rafe! How did you get in here?" she cursed, her heart racing.

He smirked, his signature cockiness on full display. "The balcony."

Imani rolled her eyes, trying to regain her composure as she approached him. But as she got closer, her gaze fell on his knuckles—raw and bloodied. "What happened to you?" she asked, concern creeping into her voice.

"Just got into a fight," he replied nonchalantly, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

She instinctively reached out, taking his hand to inspect the damage. "You need to clean this up. It looks bad."

Rafe smiled, that charming, mischievous smile that made her stomach flip. "Help me?"

Imani hesitated, the memory of their earlier tension rushing back. She dropped his hand, suddenly annoyed. "Get out."

Rafe blinked in surprise. "What?"

"Tell your girlfriend to do that for you," she shot back, her tone sharper than she intended.

Rafe opened his mouth, clearly about to say something else, but she cut him off. "Go away!" She stood her ground, pushing him gently but firmly toward the balcony.

"Baby," Rafe protested, his voice low and coaxing.

"Don't call me that," Imani snapped, feeling a surge of frustration. "Your girlfriend will be upset." She gave him one last shove, watching as he stumbled back onto the balcony.

"Let me explain," Rafe opened his mouth to argue, but she quickly shut the window, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Imani then pulled the curtains closed, her heart racing as she leaned against the door.

She flopped down onto her bed, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her. She tried to clear her mind, but then Rafe's words echoed. "I never slept with Cynthia."

She wasn't sure whether to believe him, the doubt gnawing at her stomach like an unwelcome guest. After a few moments of contemplation, she pulled out her AirPods and turned on her music, hoping Rafe would leave her alone.

For about ten minutes, she lost herself in the rhythm of the songs, but soon the pounding beat couldn't keep Rafe's face from flashing in her mind. She took a deep breath and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling a strange mix of annoyance and curiosity. Peeking through the curtains, her heart sank a little when she found Rafe still standing on her balcony, looking slightly impatient.

He glanced up as she appeared, and his expression softened. "Let me in," he said.

Imani let out a dramatic sigh, weighing her options. "You're forgetting something."

"Please," he added quickly.

She opened the window, allowing him to step inside. "Can I explain now?" he asked, almost hopeful.

"Go ahead," she replied, crossing her arms and trying to appear nonchalant.

"I never slept with her," he said, his tone sincere.

"Then why did she say it?" She shot back, skepticism creeping into her voice.

"I don't know," he admitted, running a hand through his head, frustration evident on his face. "But I went to tell her off for putting my name in her mouth and spreading rumors."

He also wanted to add. That I'm spoken for and been obsessed with a girl for almost my whole life.

Oh that I also threatened her with her life after I heard her speaking to you.

But he didn't. Last thing he needed was to scare Imani away.

Imani looked away, her heart racing as she processed his words. Suddenly, it clicked—Cynthia's earlier taunts, her obvious delight in getting under Imani's skin. It was all just a game for her, trying to provoke jealousy and anger.

Before she could speak, she felt Rafe's hand under her chin, gently lifting her face to meet his gaze. He smirked at her, that familiar, teasing smile that made her insides flutter. "You jealous?" he asked, his tone light.

Imani scrunched her nose adorably, shaking her head. "No."

Rafe laughed, clearly enjoying the banter. "You sure? Because you look a little jealous."

She pushed him away gently, trying to hide her smile, but he just laughed again, grabbing her hand to pull her back toward him. "I'm sorry, okay?" he said, his voice suddenly serious.

She raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on her lips. "Is Rafe Cameron apologising to me?"

"Only to you," he replied, his tone earnest and sincere, a hint of vulnerability shining through.

Imani glanced down at Rafe's bloodied knuckles and then back up at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You've earned yourself a reward," she said. "I'll clean your wounds for you."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Is that all I get for being a good boy?"

"Just sit down and don't make this weird," she replied, as she headed to her bathroom for the first aid box.

As Imani rummaged through the supplies, she could feel Rafe's gaze on her, watching intently. She returned to him, standing between his legs. "Hold still," she instructed, applying antiseptic to his knuckles. "And stop staring at me," she added.

"Can't help it," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You look good right now."

Imani felt her cheeks heat up as he ran a hand down her bare leg, his fingers trailing to her exposed waist. His thumb began to draw slow circles against her skin, sending shivers coursing through her body. The air between them crackled with tension, and she instinctively leaned closer, allowing him to touch her.

"Rafe..." she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening. "What? Can't I appreciate how beautiful you are?" His gaze was intense, his fingers still moving in gentle circles, coaxing her to relax.

Imani felt her heart race as she shifted, positioning herself more between his legs, the heat radiating from his body making her feel dizzy. She was aware of every brush of his skin against hers, every lingering touch that felt both electrifying and dangerous.

"Just hold still, okay?" she said, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"I promise I'll be good," he murmured, teasing in his tone, his fingers never stopping their exploration on her skin.

She shook her head, unable to suppress a small smile. "You're impossible," she said, applying a bandage to his knuckles with more force than necessary, trying to hide the way her heart was fluttering.

Rafe laughed softly, leaning in just a fraction closer. "And you like it."

She bit her lip, torn between annoyance and the undeniable thrill of the moment. "You're lucky I'm helping you," she replied, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

"Lucky indeed," he said, his eyes locked onto hers, the playful teasing now shifting to something deeper, more intimate.

Imani looked down at Rafe, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Okay, you need to leave now before my parents see a boy in my room and get a heart attack."

He stood up, towering over her. "Make sure to lock your balcony door properly then. Otherwise, someone else might come in," he replied, a teasing smirk on his lips.

Imani raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I like to keep it open for my favourite stalker."

"Is that so?" Rafe asked, his interest piqued. "Who is he?"

She played along, a grin spreading across her face. "Oh, just this annoying asshole who rides this super cool motorcycle."

Rafe feigned offense. "Looks like I'll need to remove the competition, then."

Imani laughed, enjoying the banter. "Maybe you should."

In one swift motion, Rafe grabbed her by the hips, pulling her closer. The playful smile faded slightly as he cupped her jaw with one hand, lifting her face to meet his gaze. The atmosphere shifted, charged with an intensity that made Imani's breath catch.

Rafe leaned in, and Imani closed her eyes, anticipation flooding through her. She waited for the moment she had been longing for, but instead of capturing her lips, he pressed his lips against her nose. "Goodnight," he said softly, pulling back with a teasing smile.

Before Imani could respond, Rafe turned and climbed out onto the balcony. She watched him descend as he dropped to the ground.

"Goodnight," she whispered, a smile creeping onto her face. She felt giddy, the playful teasing having transformed into something unexpectedly sweet.

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author's note:

- so i've decided in my story senior year Rafe is more into smoking and drinking first before he starts taking drugs when he starts college and when things get worse for him at home with Ward.

- the timeline will change in terms of ageing them all up. so beginning of season 1 Imani and Rafe will be 20/21 and the Pogues will be 18. i just find it ridiculous how they miss school majority of the time in the show, surely they would've been held back a year??

- don't forget to vote on every chapter and comment too. hope you're enjoying this story.