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''Not your fault this place has a roof made of cardboard.'' 

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I WOKE UP to a sharp knocking. My head still foggy with sleep, I squinted at the early light streaming through my window. The banging grew louder, persistent enough to pull me out of bed and into the hallway, where I finally caught sight of John B. He stood at my door, hands on his hips and looking like he'd been up for hours.

I opened the door and before I could even greet him, he leaned closer, eyes wide. ''Mavis, the hurricane's coming sooner than we thought,'' he warned. ''Where's your dad?''

My heart skipped a beat. Glancing around the small, cluttered room, I tried to ignore the tight feeling in my chest. Dad's shoes weren't by the door, and the old coat he always wore was missing from its hook. ''I don't know,'' I murmured, scanning the kitchen and front room as if he might materialize out of nowhere. ''He must've gone to help out somewhere, maybe over at the docks or with the other pogues.''

John B's jaw tensed, but he only nodded, understanding. ''Alright, just make sure you're ready. I'll be back,'' he called out, already turning on his heel, breaking into a run as he disappeared down the street.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I glanced around the room. The storm's warnings had been around for days now, but the reality felt suddenly heavy. I grabbed a worn sweatshirt and stepped outside, scanning the area. If Dad was gone, that left me to make sure the house was ready. My first stop: our neighbor's place to see if I could get any sandbags.

As I jogged down the sand path, a familiar figure came into view. Ashley Brown, with her curly brown hair swaying in the breeze, was coming toward me, her usual smile wavering as soon as she noticed me.

I hesitated for a moment, recalling our last encounter. She brushed past me, her gaze icy, a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

''Ashley, wait,'' I called, trying to bridge the distance between us, my voice softer. 

She shook her head, pausing just long enough to glare back.

I swallowed the knot in my throat, but there was no time to dwell. After finally getting my hands on a stack of sandbags, I threw one over my shoulder and started back toward home, only to nearly collide with another figure: Rafe Cameron. Great. Just what I needed.

''Not in the mood to fight, Rafe,'' I muttered, shifting the weight of the sandbag on my shoulder, already bracing myself for some snide comment. ''And you're on Pogue territory, by the way.''

Rafe leaned against the side of a tree, arms crossed, with that smug grin he wore whenever he thought he had the upper hand. ''Ashley called,'' he said with a shrug, gesturing toward my house. ''She wanted me to come help.''

I raised an eyebrow, holding back a sigh. ''Really? Since when did you start helping out people like me?''

He snatched the sandbag from my shoulder, ignoring my half-hearted attempt to protest, and slung it over his own, heading toward my place. I trailed behind him, watching him stack the sandbags along the doorway and windows, trying to ignore the lingering tension between us.

Once the bags were in place and the last of my preparations were done, I noticed Rafe's gaze linger on a framed photo on the wall. It was of my family—Dad, Mom, our puppy and me, from years ago. My stomach twisted, and I crossed my arms.

''Alright, you've done your duty. You can go now,'' I told him, raising my chin defiantly.

Rafe turned, his expression unreadable, though his mouth pulled into a slight smirk. ''Sorry, Mave. Ashley asked me to stay and make sure you're all set.''

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms tighter. ''Are you, like, in love with her or something? Why else would you suddenly care about what she thinks?''

Rafe chuckled, rolling his eyes. ''Let's just say she paid me for the favor.''

My eyebrow shot up. ''What, she's paying you now?''

Rafe's gaze shifted, and he muttered something, gesturing vaguely towards his nose. The realization dawned on me, and I shook my head, a dry laugh escaping. ''Oh, that kind of pay.''

Rafe smirked, the hint of embarrassment barely noticeable in his eyes. ''You got it, Mave,'' he replied, but for once, his expression softened.

As the hours wore on, I noticed that Rafe had barely moved from his spot on my couch, his eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolled through whatever was holding his attention.

I stayed in my sweatshirt and sweatpants, arms folded, leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter as I watched him. Not that I was exactly enjoying his company, but with the storm picking up outside, the whole place felt more alive with him here.

Rafe must have felt my stare because he glanced up, one eyebrow arched. ''You can stop watching my every move, Mavis. Not like I'm the thief here.''

A flush of frustration rose in my chest, and I straightened, squaring my shoulders. "For the last time, Rafe,'' I replied, exasperated, ''I wasn't stealing anything. I was just looking for my dog.''

He leaned back, arms crossed, clearly unconvinced. His gaze flickered toward the framed picture on the wall—the one of me, Mom, Dad,  and our dog a scruffy golden retriever with one ear flopped lopsidedly sitting at my feet. 

''That's the one you're talking about?'' he asked, nodding toward the photo.

I nodded, the memory of that day bittersweet. ''Yeah, that's him. He ran off during a storm, probably chasing something, and... well, he never came home.'' I felt my voice falter, and quickly turned my gaze toward the small window, peering out through a gap in the boarded-up glass. The sky was bruised with storm clouds, the rain hammering harder now. "I doubt he's ever coming back, especially after this hurricane.''

Rafe watched me for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his eyes drifted out the window, where the wind had started to howl, rattling against the house. I shifted awkwardly, needing to break the silence. ''So... aren't your parents worried about you? You're practically marooned here.''

He let out a harsh laugh, his expression turning bitter. ''I wish.''

I pressed my lips together, sensing there was more to it but deciding not to push. This wasn't exactly the time to start prying into Rafe Cameron's family issues.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the back of the house, followed by the splintering groan of wood. I jumped, covering my head instinctively, and saw that Rafe had done the same. We exchanged wide-eyed looks, neither of us moving for a second, until I noticed a steady drip of water beginning to pool on the floor.

A section of the roof had given way, scattering debris and a steady trickle of rainwater directly into the living room. The smell of damp wood and cold rain filled the space as Rafe and I scrambled toward the broken section, frantically grabbing bowls, pots—anything that could catch the water streaming in.

We worked silently, taking turns passing containers back and forth, each one filling faster than we could swap it out. After a few minutes, I paused, shaking my head in frustration. ''I'm... I'm sorry about this,'' I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rain. ''Didn't think my place would end up as your shelter for the storm.''

Rafe snorted, shooting me a smirk. ''Not your fault this place has a roof made of cardboard.'' He glanced up, as if inspecting the damage, and chuckled to himself. ''Though I guess this makes me a bit more of a saint than I thought.''

I rolled my eyes, focusing back on the water dripping into the bowls between us. ''Well, I know Ashley paid you to help out, so I'm not thanking you. Not yet, anyway,'' I replied, keeping my tone light, even as I couldn't shake the hint of gratitude building inside me. Rafe may not have come here for his own reasons, but he'd stayed all the same.

He looked over, a bit of that smug amusement flashing across his face. ''Good. Don't waste your thanks, Mavis.'' 

As the storm finally started to quieten, the pounding rain tapered off, leaving only the low howl of the wind whistling through the cracks and corners of the house. I glanced at the dripping pots and bowls scattered across the floor, all half-filled with water that gleamed under the dim glow of the flashlight. My body felt heavy with exhaustion, and I imagined Rafe felt the same, though he didn't let it show as he leaned against the wall, arms folded, looking bored more than anything else.

I sighed, moving over to the closet and pulling out one of my dad's old jackets, the fabric worn but thick enough to keep Rafe warm on his way back. I held it out to him, nodding slightly. ''Here, take this. The wind's brutal out there.''

Rafe took the jacket, eyeing it with an amused smirk. ''Thanks... though, it smells like cigarettes and looks like hell.'' He raised an eyebrow, holding it up as if inspecting every faded seam and every scuffed-up button.

I crossed my arms. ''What do you expect? I'm a Pogue. My stuff's never gonna look like that country club wardrobe you're used to. You knew what you were signing up for when Ashley asked you to help, didn't you?''

Rafe chuckled, shrugging into the jacket and giving me a once-over. ''Guess so.'' 

The storm had finally lost its fury, settling into a quiet hum of wind. Rafe glanced at the front door, testing the handle as if he couldn't wait to leave. ''I'll be heading out. Your house is secured so my job is done.'' he remarked.

I nodded, crossing my arms tighter. I wanted to say thanks, but something held me back. Instead, I met his gaze directly. ''Tell Ashley thanks... from me.'' 

''Will do,'' he replied, his voice low. Without another word, he stepped out into the wet morning, the door creaking softly as he pulled it shut behind him.

As soon as he left, the silence returned. The mess of buckets and soaked towels spread across the floor suddenly felt overwhelming. I kicked off my shoes, leaving them by the door, and sank onto the couch, my head heavy with exhaustion. There was still a lot to clean up, repairs to start, but for now, sleep pulled at me, promising at least a few hours of rest before the world needed me again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

THE NEXT MORNING, the storm had passed, leaving the island drenched and quiet. My house was still; the only sound was the soft drip of water from the leaky roof. But my dad was nowhere in sight. I scanned every room, hoping he'd returned during the night, but each empty space I passed only deepened the sinking feeling in my gut.

With a heavy breath, I pulled on my jacket and headed out, heading straight to Ashley's place on the wealthy side of the island. I figured she'd know if my dad had made it to any shelter or if he'd been seen out last night. The walk there felt surreal, like stepping into someone else's life, but I couldn't shake the worry. I just needed answers, and Ashley had always been the friend I could count on. Or so I thought.

The moment I walked into her house, I felt a shift in the air. Ashley's mother opened the door. Her eyes traveled over me slowly, like she was studying every inch of me.

"Mavis," she greeted, her voice clipped. "Heard a few... interesting things about last night." Her eyebrow arched slightly as if daring me to explain.

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap back. "I just came to see Ashley."

Before she could say anything else, Ashley's dad stepped in, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. "Let the girl go upstairs, hon." His tone left no room for argument, and she sighed, giving me a final scrutinizing look before stepping aside.

I hurried up the staircase, each step feeling heavier as I made my way to Ashley's room. When I pushed the door open, she was sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone. She barely looked up as I walked in, her face annoyingly calm.

''Ashley,'' I began, shutting the door behind me. ''Why did you leave me last night? And what's with another rumor going around?''

She glanced up at me with a lazy, almost bored expression. Then, to my surprise, she shrugged, her eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite read.

''Yeah,'' she said, her tone dismissive. ''I started it. Figured it would make things more... interesting.''

I felt my chest tighten, anger boiling up as I tried to keep my voice steady. ''Why? Why would you do something like that? We're supposed to be friends.''

Ashley's mouth curled into a smirk, and she tossed her phone onto the bed. ''Friends? Come on, Mavis, let's be real. I'm a Kook. You're a Pogue. You know it, I know it. Maybe it's time to stop pretending otherwise.''

Her words hit me like a slap, harsher than anything her parents could've thrown at me. ''So, that's all this is? A Kook versus Pogue thing? Just some excuse to make yourself feel superior?''

She shrugged, crossing her arms. ''Call it whatever you want.''

I stared at her, struggling to find any trace of the friend I thought I knew, the one who'd laughed with me on the beach and danced like nothing else mattered. ''You know, I actually thought you were different, Ash. I thought you cared.''

For a brief second, her face faltered, but she quickly masked it, tilting her chin up defiantly. ''Well, maybe you thought wrong. Maybe it's better if we stop playing this game where we pretend like we're from the same world. Because we're not.''

I swallowed hard, fighting back the bitterness rising in my throat. ''Fine,'' I whispered, each word dripping with hurt. ''If that's how you see it, then maybe you're right. We're done.''

I stared at her, stunned into silence. The Ashley I'd thought I knew was slipping away before my eyes, turning into someone I didn't recognise. Someone who didn't care how much damage she left in her wake.

Her expression hardened further, her lips twisting into a bitter smile. "Get out before I call my boyfriend over."

My eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned against her dresser, looking almost bored. "Things have changed, Vivi. Don't ever let me see you again."

My fists clenched. "You know what, Ashley? Fuck you."

I turned on my heel, making my way back to the window. I didn't bother looking back at her as I climbed out, my fingers gripping the windowsill so tightly they ached. The cool breeze hit me as I swung down, my feet hitting the ground hard as I walked away from the house that no longer felt like it had anything to do with the girl I'd thought was my friend.

On my way home my phone buzzed. It was John B., his voice immediately filling the line.

''Mavie,'' he began, ''I saw the video. Don't even think about stressing over the hate. You know you've got me, and honestly, none of that stuff matters anyway.''

I appreciated him trying to make it feel small. I cut him off before he could go on. ''John B., Ashley did this on purpose. She knew exactly what she was doing—to ruin me, my reputation... everything.''

He paused for a second, absorbing my words. ''Wait, what? How?''

I took a breath, trying to keep my voice steady. ''I was dancing with her first, she threw me at some random guy, he tried to kiss me but I pulled away. Then she made sure the video looked like we were actually kissing and threw in a caption to make sure everyone saw it exactly how she wanted them to.''

There was silence on his end, and I could almost picture his face twisting in anger as he processed it all. I hung up and bolted back to my house, locking myself inside. I just needed to breathe, to not see anyone for a moment.

But not five minutes later, I heard footsteps on the porch, then John B.'s three familiar knocks. I unlocked the door, and he slipped inside, his eyes soft as he looked me over. He dropped a hand on my shoulder.

''It's bad, Mavie. Ashley's already spread rumors all over the place, telling everyone that you, you know, kiss whoever's in front of you, sleep around, whatever gets people talking. I never expected her to be like this.''

I sighed, shaking my head as I flopped down on the couch. ''Great,'' I muttered. ''Guess my love life's done for, huh? It's not like I was planning on getting a boyfriend anytime soon after this.''

John B. let out a small laugh, sliding down onto the couch beside me, and we hugged. After a moment, he pulled back, a hint of a grin flickering across his face. ''So... you want revenge?''

I smirked, feeling a flash of satisfaction. ''Already got it.'' I reached into my pocket, pulling out my phone. I tapped a few times before pulling up the video I'd taken at Ashley's, showing him the screen. ''I had my phone recording the whole time. She admitted to it, whether she realizes it or not.''

John B.'s eyebrows shot up. ''Wait, you were recording? Why?''

''I wanted to talk to her parents, about something completely different.'' I rolled my eyes, the memory of her dad's slap flashing through my mind. ''But they didn't exactly give me the chance. I guess I just forgot to stop the recording after everything went down.''

He leaned back, a smirk pulling at his lips. ''You actually posted it?''

I shrugged, grinning. ''Yep. She wanted to ruin my reputation? Well, now everyone can see her for what she is, too.''

John B. clapped a hand to his chest dramatically. ''Mimi, my friend, you are a legend.'' We both laughed.

He leaned forward, an excited gleam in his eye. ''The Pogues found this old key in an abonded shipwreck yesterday. It's supposed to go to some room in amotel. Thought you might wanna come check it out with us?''

The idea of leaving everything behind, even if just for a night, felt like a lifeline. I grinned, pushing myself off the couch. ''Hell yeah. Let's go.''

And with that, we headed out walking into the salty, sunlit breeze.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

WE PULLED UP to the Summer Winds Motel, I could already feel the tension building in my chest. The place was packed with sketchy figures to say the least. Despite everything that had gone down with Ashley, being back with the Pogues brought me a strange sense of relief.

The Pogues spotted me as soon as I stepped out of the boat, and JJ immediately smirked, nudging John B. "Yo, Mavie! Saw some rumors about you floating around. Didn't know you had a new type," he teased, giving a little laugh.

Kiara rolled her eyes and lightly punched JJ's arm. "We don't care who you date, you know. Whoever you like, we're behind you."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Not exactly like that, guys. Ashley was trying to start something—put up some video of me dancing with this random guy, then slapped a different story on it. But, don't worry, I got my revenge."

Their shoulders relaxed. Kiara patted my shoulder. "Well, as long as you put her in her place."

We turned our focus back to the motel and the plan. JJ and John B slipped out of the boat, ready to scout for the room they needed, while the rest of us—Kiara, Pope, and me—waited in the boat,