chapter forty
"the bonfire"

"THANK THE LORD, OR WHATEVER the hell is up there."

Lynn was beyond grateful to know that there wasn't a single soul inside the Chateau, knowing that the hours had lined up with school but wasn't quite sure if that meant that the teenagers she called her best friends would actually be there.

She didn't care about missing the day, figuring if anyone had called the house to inform her father of the absent days, that he could give less than a shit — there was no way she'd actually get into any serious trouble. A heavy breath of relief was exhaled from her lungs that she hadn't realized she had been holding in the past five minutes ever since her eyes landed on the Chateau.

Entering the house quietly, must of been a force of habit by now, even though no one was home. It was the same as usual — scattered beer cans with their usual shotgun holes screwed in, a pulled out couch that was never actually put anyway anymore. Lynn trailed towards the kitchen table, where her phone had lingered ever since last night — she was pleased that no one had tried messing with it.

There were a few texts from fellow Pogues who were wondering where she was and why she didn't show up to school — a missed call from Kie, two texts and a missed call from Pope, and that was it. It wasn't like she was expecting the whole damn parade, but a part of her stung knowing that John B hadn't even tried to contact her. She tried to ignore the fact that JJ hadn't, either. Then there were four text messages from Rafe Cameron — all of them had roughly come from the morningtime.

Rafe Cameron:

Hey, r u busy? I need u.

Text me when u can.

Will I see u at the bonfire 2night, doll?

If u don't reply in five minutes, I'm assuming that u are agreeing to be my date to the bonfire 2night.

The bonfire.

Hell, how did she forget about the bonfire? It happened every year, the same weekend. It was actually her favorite party of the year, excluding the wicked halloween party the Pogues throw in the boneyard. It always happened right as school was beginning, managing to be able to always take away the stress.

Part of her wanted to instantly text back with a no, an absolutely not — she knew she wasn't in a good partying mood. But then she nibbled on her bottom lip as her thoughts drifted elsewhere, the nickname tingled a bit in her heart. Lynn was desperate for someone to care about her like Rafe cared about her, what harm would it do tagging along with him? Plus, she would be able to get utterly and completely drunk without having a single care in the world.

Evelynn Bardot:

well, i guess u got urself a date, pretty boy.

"Lynn, hold up!"

Lynn popped over her shoulder with a wild grin crossing her face, biting down on the bottom lip in order to keep her smile in control. The wrinkles under her eyes were showing, laughter bouncing from her chest. She hadn't, in fact, slowed down with her racing through the crowd.

Music was vibrating throughout the entire span of area, but it wasn't hardly as loud as the people gathering around her. Teenagers upon teenagers, if you couldn't see them, you could hear them, and if you didn't hear them, you could smell them. Darkness had grown over the sun that previously set a few hours back, shadows following everyone as the woods surrounding them was full of blackness.

Her body was swinging with each step, with each rhymatic beat of the song that rippled in the air. Something Lynn never could picture herself wearing was glued to her body — she had replaced her typical mom jeans for a darker pair of skinny jeans that so perfectly wrapped around her waist and butt, flaunting her curves. She was wearing a black bralette, with a glittering mesh long-sleeve on top of it. You could see her cleavage with ease, and every male (and female, to be frank) was staring at the girl with drool tracing their lips as she slipped through the crowd.

The only reason she actually had the courage to show up tonight was the four beers she had shotgunned back to back at the Chataeu, slightly tipsy as she scavenged throughout her closet for an outfit that would rock everyones world. Maybe it was specifically pointed at JJ, he always did love her in skinny jeans, or maybe not.

"You gotta keep up, pretty boy," Lynn whistled, finally swinging on her hips so that she would face the boy chasing after her — and who was that you asked? No surprise, it was Rafe Cameron. "You promised me a shotgun."

Rafe Cameron smiled at the Bardot girl, genuinely smiled — he couldn't recall the last time he had done such a thing. Who knew a girl could make him feel this way? Tracing forward so that he would finally be close enough to her without yelling, his eyes drifted to her lips, then back to her eyes.

"I promised you a shotgun," Rafe grinned, but it was more pressed lips together than actually showing off any teeth, like he was hiding back his true smile.

"Did you notice everyone staring at us?" Lynn hummed as she reached towards a dark blue colored cooler, picking out two beers that were perfectly crisp — water droplets trickling down the metal and onto her skin.

"I noticed everyone staring at you, doll," Rafe replied, his fingers tracing Lynn's hand as he reached for one of the cold beers, her face straightened out at the touch. Was it fireworks, or was she just drunk? "The outfit you're wearing right now, well, it's hard not to stare."

"Shush," Lynn amusingly shook her head, a giggle escaping her lips. She shoved her spare index finger into Rafe's chest, taking a single step forward. "They're staring at us because you're the Kook king, and I'm the Pogue princess."

Rafe's booming chuckle echoed out throughout the air, and a smile of her own replayed on her face — she liked being able to be the only one to make him laugh.

"Is that so?"

"It so is," Lynn scrunched her nose up as a response, and Rafe had to control the urge to touch her cheek, to run his fingers down her arm softly, hell — to not crash his own lips onto hers. "We've got to be breaking, like, some kind of sacred law of no Kook and Pogues macking, or something."

Another laugh rung deeply from Rafe's chest, and Lynn reached forward to give the boy a playful shove, "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not laughing at you, princess," insisted Rafe.

Lynn's expression softened up, and she licked her dry lips as a small amount of anxiety began racing through her veins. It felt wrong, still, to hear the nickname fall from Rafe's tongue instead of JJ's. Rafe seemed to understand her sudden shift in emotion, and reached forward to warmly wrap his fingers around Lynn's hand — she didn't flinch away, why didn't she flinch away?

"You don't want me to call you that — I won't call you that, alright?" Rafe cooed in her ear, just soft enough for her to hear even with the music. His warm breath bounced off her ear, a ring of butterflies erupted in her chest as part of her melted into his touch. "You okay, love?"

"I'll be better once we shotgun these," Lynn forced a smile as a reply, Rafe didn't see through it one bit. She exhaled out her nose real quick as Rafe tugged out his keys, to the motorbike the two had rode the way over. He quickly popped a hole at the bottom of Lynn's can, and then shifted to her own. "Thanks."

She chugged down the golden liquid as if it were water, not struggling one bit as she emptied the can. Rafe did the same — but she still beat him.

A few more of these, and she wouldn't feel a damn thing.

a/n: don't mind me prolonging the bonfire scenes as long as possible bc they were the ones i was most excited about writing <//33