CHAPTER SEVEN
[7]
song: half life by sneaker pimps

"You're alright, then?"

Summer's father was on the other line. He'd called her after the news of Shoupe's murder spread. Only a few long hours had passed since then. They stayed at the crime scene for a while, giving the officers any information they could, watching as Shoupe's body was pulled from the car.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just shaken up." Summer says, arms crossed over her knees, as she sat on the roof outside one of the many window's of Sarah's house.

The sound of the waves filled her ears, something that usually calmed her down, but it'd proved unsuccessful after these past few days. Those waves were now a constant reminder of Noah, of where they found his body. Of the confines of this island, a place she called home, and how it was no longer safe for her. And it would never feel like it had before all of this ever again.

"And you're home safe? With Pamela?" He asks on the other line.

Summer scratches the back of her neck, glancing around at the stretch of land that the Cameron's house sat on. It was dark now, but the moon illuminated everything just enough for her to see how perfectly taken care of the gardens were, how there wasn't a weed out of place. "I'm actually staying with Sarah. For a while, I think." She lets out a small huff. "I don't know. When will you be home?"

Her dad sighs. "Probably not for a few more days. We're actually just about to tackle a new case, so I'm not sure."

"Yeah, that's okay." Summer nods, then clenches her jaw.

"I'm gonna go to bed then, it's been a long night for me. Lots of paperwork." He chuckles.

Summer forces a laughter to match his. Sounds like a long night. "Okay, good night."

Summer sat out there for a while, in the silence. There was a lot of aching in her brain. A lot of information, a lot of pain she didn't know how to deal with. She knew pushing it away was bad, she knew letting it all out was worse. She tried both. None of it made it go away.

Her and Camila were posted up in one of the many guest rooms of Tannyhill. She'd been asleep for hours, Summer didn't have as much luck.

She was too scared, and she didn't want to feel this way for the rest of her life. Wondering if the next one would be the last, if the next one would be her. Would be him. It made her sick. She just wanted to know why. Why was this happening?

Summer crawled back inside, off the roof and through the window. She shut it quietly behind her, glancing over at Camila who was sound asleep. She rubbed her eyes, swallowed by the big t-shirt Sarah lent her to wear to bed.

She wanted to be around him. If not for the safety of it, but for the comfort of talking to him. He didn't pressure her to mourn, or to talk through it, or to make her feel a certain way about it all. He just made her feel better.

But despite everything that's happened, he was still Rafe. He was still the same guy that up and left her one day, only to not speak to her for months. After- even for a short time- he was her only sanctuary.

He'd done it yesterday. He woke up and left, without any word as to where he was going or why. Even if he meant nothing by it— it scared her.

Knowing that sitting in that bed until sunrise would be just as miserable as standing here, contemplating whether or not she should go to him— she finally crept out into the hallway.

The house was still, and dark, and the floors were so old, with every step, you risked a chance of making a floorboard creak and waking someone up.

A part of her hoped he was asleep, that he wouldn't hear her, and she'd be forced to just go back to her room.

But he wasn't. When she quietly knocked on his door, he opened it only a few seconds later.

She didn't say anything, just stood there and looked at him, eyebrows upturned in worry. He didn't look surprised to see her standing there. It was like he'd been up waiting for her this whole time. After a moment of contemplation, Rafe opened the door further, and Summer walked into the room.

His room didn't look much different from the rest of the house. Just old, fancy, wooden decorations that lacked any sort of his personality. If his sheets weren't messed up, Summer would've wondered if she walked into another guest room.

"I'm sorry." Rafe spoke up, and Summer turned around as he shut the door behind him. His voice was slightly shaky, and there was a hint of genuine guilt that came through with his tone.

"For what?" She questioned.

He scratched his eyebrow. "For being a dick earlier."

Summer nodded slowly, forgetting about what he said, due to the other 'circumstances'. "Yeah." She stretched out her neck and crossed her arms over her chest. "That was— I wasn't begging you to fuck me, by the way?" She snorts. "I was just— I don't know."

Rafe smiles, walking past her over to his bed. "Wouldn't mind if you were."

Summer rolls her eyes. "Funny."

Rafe picks up a sweatshirt, one that he must've been wearing earlier, off of his bed and tosses it to her. "You think I'm funny?" He jokes.

"I think you're a dick, like you said." Summer takes it from him and examines it. "What's this?"

Rafe shrugs. "You look cold."

Summer holds it in her hands, unsure. She looks at him with narrow eyes, trying to understand what exactly he was doing.

He shrugs again, as he sits down on the edge of his bed to watch her. She stands there for a few moments, hesitating, before eventually slipping it on over her head. Rafe smiles to himself.

"Well, I can't sleep." Summer says, after fixing her newly-tussled hair. She walks over to his bed, crawling onto it and making herself comfortable, sitting cross legged beside him. "I think I'm just totally freaked out."

Rafe turns and looks at her. His lips were upturned into a pleasant smile, happy she was here.

He leaned in, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. Her initial instinct was to smile into it, she felt it tug on the corner of her lips— but it just felt— too right. Too casual. They weren't casual, what has happened between them— that was more than casual.

"What?" He asked, examining her face after she pulled away.

Summer takes a breath, and rubs her eyes. "You're so confusing."

Rafe lets out a small laugh, and turns to face her fully, gently grabbing onto her arms to pull them from her face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean— literally two nights ago you didn't want to kiss me— then you say that you wouldn't have minded if— I— and then... that?" She shakes her head, looking at him like he was stupid.

Rafe was still smiling softly, but his face grew empathetic. "So do you..." he glanced down at her lips then back up to her eyes. "What do you want, then?"

Summer swallowed nervously, trying to hold his steady eye contact, but he made it hard. "I don't know. There's just— a lot happening."

Rafe waited for a moment before speaking. "I think you're thinking too much about it."

She narrowed her eyebrows. "About what? Us or the killings?"

"Us." He responded.

Summer leaned away, unsure as to why he thought that was a bad thing. "I mean... one of us should be." She pauses. "Last time we just... went for it, and—"

Rafe let's out a deep sigh and rubs his eyes, turning away from her on the bed. Summer was taken back by his reaction. "What?" She continues.

He shrugs. "I don't know what else I can do to prove to you that I won't do that again."

She wanted to hear him admit to it. "Do what again?"

He gave her a blank stare, but underneath his cold stare he was pissed.

"That you won't just up and leave me without another word the second you decide you're bored?" She sends him a fake-sympathetic frown.

His gaze didn't shift, he was just sat on the bed, turned staring at her, like he was trying to think of what to say, what to do next.

Summer scoffs, standing up from the bed. "What else you can do to prove to you I won't do that again..." She mocks him. "What exactly have you done?"

His eyes follow her across the room. She shakes her head at him impatiently, waiting for him to respond.

His stillness was unnerving, it was inevitable that at any moment he would snap. She knew him. Last summer he would've been up in her face yelling right back at her, laughing at her when she rightfully got upset, or just simply telling her to fuck off. But this year things are different, he's quiet, calculated. Even when Topper was accusing him of murdering his own friends, he just stood there and took it.

"What do you want me to say?" He eventually asks, quietly.

"I don't know." Summer crossed her arms and shrugged. "Is it not a red flag to you that almost every conversation we have ends in an argument?"

"Well, sometimes you just argue to argue, Summer." Rafe rubs his eyes with his knuckles again.

He was never going to understand her point. He was never going to understand how much he hurt her. "Okay, yeah. Sure." She says, giving up. She turns to the door.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asks annoyedly from the bed.

She looks at him like he was stupid. "Did you think I was gonna stay with you?"

He starts to shrug, like that was exactly what he thought. Summer lets out a loud, annoyed groan, as she swung open the door and slipped back into the hallway, and slammed it behind her. She didn't care if it woke the rest of his family up, she wanted them all to know their son was an idiot.

As she turned to head back to the guest room, she ran into Rafe's youngest sister, Wheezie, who looked curious as to what all the commotion about.

Summer swallowed, slightly frazzled. "Your brother's an idiot." She reiterated her own thoughts.

As Summer walked past a tired Wheezie, she heard the girl mumble something along the lines of, "Yeah, we know."

The following morning, Summer was the last to wake up. She was mostly surprised she got any sort of sleep at all. Perhaps she was more exhausted than she thought. She turned over to check the time on her phone, and then realized Camila was gone.

She pulled herself out of bed, despite desperately wanting to stay in the warmth it provided. The house was so bright in the morning, the sun shining directly into the many big windows and illuminating the warm yellow walls.

There was a comfort in this house that she didn't get at her own. Hers was too modern, too cold and sharp, and none of it reminded her of her own childhood. When her mother died, they'd redone the house to her father's own taste. Completely ridding the house of any prior memories.

The Cameron's were a proper family. There were pictures of them up on the wall, or sat in tiny frames on every surface available.

In the kitchen, she smelled food, and followed the sound of voices to find Sarah and Camila, cooking and laughing together. "Oh, there she is." Camila says, after taking a bite of the bacon in her hand.

Sarah looks up from the stove top, where it appeared eggs were being scrambled. "Good morning sunshine." Sarah said sarcastically.

The two were surprisingly chipper given the events of the night before. Summer eyed them suspiciously, and then Wheezie came around the corner with a box of pancake mix, placing it on the counter.

She eyed Summer, and then her sister, and then Camila. All the girls exchanged knowing glances, and Summer knew her case was blown.

She clenched her jaw, walking deeper into the kitchen to grab a piece of bacon off the plate in front of Camila. "How'd you sleep?" Summer asks the brunette.

Camila glances at Sarah, who watched from the conversation happen from the stove, but turned quickly back around as Summer looked at her too.

"Fine." Camila shrugged happily. "How'd you sleep?"

Summer turns to Wheezie, who was avoiding her eye contact now. "Fine." Summer responds after a moment. Sarah snorts, and Summer whips her head over to her. "What?" She asks accusingly.

"I like your sweatshirt." Sarah says, bringing the egg-filled pan over to the counter and dumping some onto Camila's plate.

Summer glances down, and realizes she was still wearing Rafe's oversized black sweatshirt that he'd given her just seconds before he shockingly pissed her off again.

She felt her cheeks flush red, and when the rest of the girl's realized she noticed, they all erupted into laughter. Even Wheezie.

It felt good to laugh. To have a short-lived normal moment in a sea of bad days. To be surrounded by her friends, to feel like she'd just woken up from any other sleepover and went downstairs for breakfast.

Her and Sarah had never been very close. She was never really a part of the Summer, Holly and Camila Trio. They always thought she was a bit of a pushover, too nice for them. Summer remembered one time, when the three were talking about some girls they went to school with, Sarah said, 'we shouldn't talk about people when they're not here to defend themselves', and that immediately turned Summer off from her.

But maybe someone like Sarah was exactly what she needed right now. However, she wished their friendship was blooming from different circumstances.

As the laughter simmered down, Camila spoke. "So are you two like... officially a thing?"

Summer tried to gage Sarah's reaction, to see if her potentially getting into a relationship with her brother would upset her. But she seemed unbothered. "Uh," Summer thought for a moment. "No."

Camila eyed her suspiciously, glancing down at her sweatshirt then back up to her. "Really?"

Summer shook her head. "Yeah, no. Not happening."

It was clear Sarah and Camila didn't believe her. How could they? She'd just come downstairs in his sweatshirt, and Wheezie had clearly spilled to them that she was leaving his room in the middle of the night. But her and Rafe were complicated. She didn't expect them to understand.

"Well, off topic, but there's another memorial at The Island Club tonight." Camila says. "For Shoupe, and— everyone."

Summer sighs. "That was quick."

"Yeah, I guess it's still the summer charity event, but they're calling it a memorial so it doesn't get cancelled." Sarah says.

"How many more memorials are we gonna have to sit through?" Summer says. "I mean— how hard can it be to catch the guy? We're on an island."

The conversation runs quiet, as Rafe passes through the kitchen. He barely even glances at Summer, let alone anyone else. He clearly had every intention of going on about his day like she wasn't there.

Everyone watched him carefully as he walked right past her and towards the back door.

She kept thinking of the way he kissed her last night. Like they were longtime boyfriend and girlfriend. Like it was a quick good night kiss, or a quick I love you kiss. It was so casual, so sweet— she didn't know he was capable of being sweet.

And now he was just cold. The Rafe she knew, the Rafe she knew would come right back. The Rafe that pretended she was nothing, pretended she didn't exist even if she was right next to him.

"Wait—" Summer says, knowing she couldn't let him feel like he was winning this. She approaches him as he was just about to leave out the back door.

He turned to face her, curious as to what she had to say. Instead, she just stood in front of him, pulled his sweatshirt off over her head, leaving her back in Sarah's old t-shirt, and handed it back to him.

She didn't say anything, just reveled in the way he glanced over at his sister, and then to Camila, who were watching it all go down. He sent Summer a pointed glare, before quickly turning and leaving out the door.

Summer turned around and gave the girls a smile. "See?" She shrugged. "Not happening."

The girls continued their conversation. Background noise to Summer's own internal dialogue, as she watched out the window as Rafe put his helmet on over his head, got on the back of his dirt bike, and left.

She hated the way her chest ached, how guilt flooded her body. Was that too much? Too bitchy? She didn't want to hurt him. Or maybe she did. Maybe she wanted him to feel just as stupid as she did. She didn't know. She never did with him.

a/n
yw for giving you a killer-free chapter.
again my bestie girl geminivvvv makes a bunch of edits of this book on her tik tok (@/geminivvvv) if u want to check them out :') that's Mother fr

hope ur enjoying ! 💌
- jane