“You don’t belong here… but maybe I don’t either.”

The first time Rafe saw you, you were sitting on the school steps with your backpack still half-zipped and that look in your eyes like you were already counting down the days until you could leave.

He knew that feeling. He’d lived in it for years.

Kettle Springs wasn’t the kind of town that held you gently. It was all cracked pavement, whispered rumors, and cornfields that could swallow a person whole. The kind of place where nothing ever changed — until you showed up.

You were the new girl. The one who walked into homeroom late on your first day and got detention for it. The one who sat in the back, hoodie sleeves over your hands, barely speaking. But you watched everything.

Rafe noticed. Not just because everyone did — but because you didn’t look at him like the rest of them. Not like he was dangerous. Or broken. Or a lost cause.

Just curious.

So when you didn’t show up to the bonfire that night — the one the whole school was going to — he wasn’t surprised to find you sitting at the edge of the cornfield, headphones in, staring into the dark like it might tell you something.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just walked up, boots crunching in the gravel, hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

You looked over, a little startled.

He nodded. “Didn’t feel like pretending to have fun either, huh?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t think anyone would notice I wasn’t there.”

“I noticed.”

Silence. But not the bad kind. Just heavy. Real.

He sat next to you — not too close, not too far. You didn’t move away.

“I’m Rafe, by the way,” he added after a beat.

“I know,” you said. “They talk about you a lot.”

He huffed a dry laugh. “Yeah. I’m the cautionary tale.”

“You don’t seem that bad.”

“I’m not,” he said, looking at you now, really looking. “But this town doesn’t like people who don’t fit.”

You turned your head, met his eyes in the low light. “So why are you still here?”

He was quiet a second. Then: “Because I hadn’t found a reason to leave. Until now.”

And there it was.

That flip in your chest like someone had tripped a wire. You hadn’t expected this — not here, not from him. But the way he said it? Like it mattered. Like you mattered.

He leaned back on his elbows, looking up at the sky like it had answers.

“I don’t know what you’re running from,” he said softly. “But if you need someone to run with, I’m right here.”

You didn’t say anything. Just let your hand drift closer to his on the grass. Close enough that your fingers brushed.

He didn’t pull away. Neither did you.

Maybe the town was rotting. Maybe the adults were all liars. Maybe everything was falling apart.

But Rafe Cameron wasn’t a cautionary tale.

Not to you.

To you, he was the first reason to stay.