The Cameron estate had never seen a night like this. Rafe had promised an unforgettable party, and he wasn’t lying. By sunset, the mansion was glowing with strings of fairy lights that twisted around palm trees, balconies, and poolside umbrellas. A DJ deck had been set up near the pool, pumping out a playlist curated to perfection: upbeat summer tracks, classic sing-along songs, and some bass-heavy anthems that made the floor vibrate.

Guests started arriving around seven. Teens from every corner of the Outer Banks poured in, drinks in hand, laughter spilling out the open doors. JJ was the first to cannonball into the pool, with Pope close behind, daring anyone else to join. Sarah and Kie were trading playful insults on the balcony, clearly enjoying themselves, while Topper meticulously made sure the music transitioned smoothly between songs, nodding to the beat.

You and the Pogues had claimed a spot near the fire pit at the far side of the yard. Someone strummed a guitar while others roasted marshmallows, and you all started swapping stories from past adventures—just the Pogues being your chaotic, loud selves. Even without Rafe present, it was easy to feel like you’d stumbled into a safe little world of fun.

Rafe, of course, was everywhere else. He was a whirlwind of hosting energy: checking drinks, laughing with friends, starting a karaoke battle in the living room, and even joining a few pool float races. Everyone seemed to be having a blast, and for once, no one was scheming, arguing, or plotting. The Cameron house felt like a bubble of pure summer happiness.

And yet… the Pogues were off-limits. Rafe never came near your corner. He shot a few tense glances your way, jaw tight, but every time you tried to catch his eye, he’d turn back to his friends, laughing, pretending the Pogues didn’t exist. It was frustrating—and honestly a little funny—but you all didn’t let it ruin the mood.

By 10 p.m., the party had spilled outside even more. Teens had pulled out blankets, loungers, and extra speakers for the backyard. Some were dancing barefoot on the grass, others splashing in the pool. JJ and Pope had declared an impromptu limbo contest, and surprisingly, even Kie had joined in, laughing at his own lack of flexibility.

You glanced over at Rafe on the balcony, drink in hand, talking with a group of his friends. He looked happy, in his own way—but still distant, still unreachable. And yet, the sight of him laughing, even from afar, felt… strange. Somehow comforting. He wasn’t a part of your group, but at least the party was working. Everyone was having fun. No fights, no drama, just pure summer energy.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, someone suggested a midnight swim in the pool. You and the Pogues eagerly jumped in, clothes and all, while Rafe stayed dry on the balcony, shaking his head in disapproval—but secretly smiling when he saw how much fun everyone was having. You all laughed so hard, water flying everywhere, that even the neighbors’ occasional honks of warning couldn’t dampen the mood.

As the night wore on, the music slowed down. Teens sprawled across blankets and loungers, half-asleep but smiling, sharing stories and quiet jokes. Someone had brought a flashlight and started making shadow puppets on the wall, which devolved into a full-on shadow puppet war that had everyone in stitches. Even from across the yard, Rafe peeked over the railing and rolled his eyes at your antics—but he didn’t stop you.

By the time the first hints of sunrise painted the sky pink and orange, everyone was sitting in small groups, exhausted but happy. You looked around at the Cameron estate—the sparkling pool, the fire pit, the scattered blankets and laughter-filled air—and realized this had been one of the most perfect nights you’d ever experienced.

Rafe didn’t speak to the Pogues. He didn’t have to. For tonight, it didn’t matter. The Cameron mansion had become neutral territory—a place where old rivalries could be ignored, and everyone could just… be.

A night of music, laughter, friendship.