an unknown number texted you one night, meaning to reach John B with some chaotic message. something that goes along like, “bro if I get arrested again please don’t tell Pope.”
an unknown number texted you one night, claiming he knew who you are despite getting your name wrong. but, you have never heard of someone named ‘Rafe Cameron’, ever, in your whole life.
Your first exchange was wordless: the flick of his lighter, the exhale of smoke, the tilt of his head inviting you closer. The basement was cool, but the space between you warmed fast. You didn’t know if it was the nicotine cloud or the way he looked at you, like you’d interrupted something private, something he didn’t mind sharing. Cigarettes, drugs, crack and alcohol, or something more.
Back on the Outer Banks, you planned only to settle a family matter and leave, but two boys from your past have other plans. One is reckless and warm, the other dark and magnetic, and both are determined to claim more than your attention.
You move into a quiet condominium expecting solitude, only to discover your unseen housemate is a sharp-tongued, tattooed stranger who’s been noticing you long before you noticed him. Late nights blur into shared silences, unspoken tension, and a connection neither of you dares to name.