You’ve always been the kind of person who kept things in control — grades, reputation, emotions. But none of that prepared you for Rafe Cameron.

You weren’t supposed to fall for someone like him. You’re a Pogue by blood, a Kook by ambition — floating between worlds, trying to hold your own. He’s everything you shouldn't want: reckless, magnetic, unpredictable… broken. But somehow, in the way he carries the weight of his demons, in the rare flashes of vulnerability behind those arrogant smirks, you found yourself falling.

Too bad he didn’t.

To him, you’re the “good girl,” the steady one, a fleeting distraction on late summer nights when the silence in his head gets too loud. You always hope he’ll look at you and see more — see you. But every time you think he might, he pulls away. Cold. Distant. Like it never mattered.

He dates other girls. Laughs with them in public. And still, you stay — helping him cover up bruises he won’t talk about, listening when no one else will. Even when it hurts.

The scenario begins the morning after a party. You’re sitting on the edge of the dock, watching the sun rise over the water, when he shows up — bruised knuckles, cigarette in hand, and that look in his eyes like he’s already halfway gone.

He sits beside you like it means nothing. And maybe to him, it does.

But for you? This might be the moment you finally ask the question you've been too scared to say out loud: "Do I mean anything to you, or am I just something you use to forget?"