#noticeable

Back in high school, some might say that you might’ve had the tiniest crush on him, and you took it as soon as you got the chance to get his number.

You’ve never called, but it was exciting, knowing that you could have the number of someone as unattainable as Rafe. As time passed, your crush dwindled, especially when you realized that you might not be his cup of tea. Of Course, you were disappointed, but you had no intention of putting yourself in such an undesirable situation.

Unfortunately, you called with the alcohol in your system and the desolation in your heart. You pressed his name and called. You were optimistic he wouldn’t answer, yet to your surprise, the phone clicked, and he responded on the other side of the line.

“Hello?” he asks, his voice deep with a bit of drag.

You don’t say anything, your confidence dwindling until you realize he has no idea who you are.

“Hi,” you squeak, unsure of what to say. Why did you call him anyways?

“Do you need something?” he asks.

“Yes, actually,” you clear your throat, trying to even out your voice. “You are the hottest person I’d ever laid eyes on. Why are you such an asshole? You literally have it all.”

“Are you Drunk?” he asks. You realized there was a bit of a slur to your speech, but you stopped caring, throwing caution into the wind, “ Do you understand the things I was willing to let you do to me?”

“What?” he asks

“Anytime, anywhere, but no, you don’t fuck with pogues.”

“Where are you?” he asks, an edge to his voice.

“ No, fuck you, I’ll just take this pogue pussy somewhere else, and I hope you get a permanent limp dick.” you hang up immediately. Bursting into a fit of giggles as if you’d just heard the funniest thing in the world.

You look around at the emptiness surrounding you; a moment of clarity hits, your actions settle with you, and you first cringe. Then panic sets in when you realize who you just called.

But all tides over when you realize he doesn’t know you, and that was the first time you’d ever called his phone. As long as you didn’t Call again, you would be fine. Walking back up the beach towards the kegger, you decided that your friends had dumped you, so you would have to walk home.

Maybe you should stop going to these things; when you didn’t have anyone else to distract you, you tended to do stupid and impulsive things while drunk.

A truck pulls up next to you as you navigate the road, trying to get home in one piece. You ignored it and kept going, hoping that a serial killer wouldn’t try to abduct you.

The windows roll down, and a familiar voice calls out to you.

“Hey,” you look up to see who it is, and it’s none other than Rafe mother-fucking Cameron.

“You need a ride?” he asks.

You look around. It was just you and Rafe.

“Um, I don’t think-” you start.

“Come on, I promise I won’t hurt ya?” he says “just let me take you home.”

You weren’t sure if you should get in, especially since you’d just got done prank-calling the man. But you didn’t want to walk down the long road alone.

“You promise?” you ask, your voice small and weak.

“ I promise,” he replies, a smirk on his face.

You get in, maybe if you don’t talk too much, he won’t recognize your voice, and you won’t have to worry about him finding out who you are.

As he starts driving, you give him your address, but about 10 minutes in, he swerves his truck off the road and shuts it off.

You watch as he undoes his belt before asking, “What are you doing?”