Kook princess. Of course, Sarah Cameron, who else would get the title if not the Outer Banks' queen of broken hearts?

Money, popularity, beauty. What every teenage girl would want, what she should be content with having. If it weren't for the fact that she didn't want that, where was the adventure?

Simple to assume the answer—when things were handed to you on a silver platter your whole life, everything seemed a little more exciting than it actually was.

Maybe, that was the perfect way to describe the turbulent and not very romantic thing that was happening between you. A silent power play, where she had power over you, but neither of you were willing to call the shots.

Sarah knew she should've run for the hills already, where you couldn't find her—then, she'd hit you back in the long run and end up with her heel's on the edge of your bed again. Beautiful, and tragic.

A pogue, that wasn't who she would introduce to her family, was it? Different worlds, different routines, like a line between right and wrong in a small-dumb mindset that her brother taught her to have.

In the end, she'd always hurt you 'cause she knew there would never going to ever be you and her, but she'd still keep you around. It's easy for her, not for you. It'd never be anything more than something that's fucking you up.

Your turn to run for the hills, in vain, running away from Sarah was like trying to run away from your own shadow. Impossible.

Drunk, with a bottle of some cheap-ass drink that you didn't even want to know where she bought it—right into your work place, coming in uninvited, not even by you. Your boss looked at you as if he was already preparing your dismissal in his mind, great, great day.

How could a woman be so pretty and annoying? You had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you carried her out.

“You don't love me anymore,” she whimpered dramatically, holding onto you. “I'll do anything for you, I'll even break up with Topper this time.” If she wasn't drunk, it'd be sweet.