Rafe Cameron. (18)

The house is silent for the first time all day.

The party's over.

There were glasses left on the table, the music turned off, and the echo of laughter that was no longer there.

You are sitting on the couch, with your legs folded, watching something on TV.

You don't even know what you're looking at.

You hear footsteps.

"Did you stay?" says a familiar voice.

You look up.

Rafe appears with a bottle of water, disheveled, tired… but calm.

—Obviously —you reply—. Someone has to make sure you don't burn the house down.

Rafe barely smiles and lets himself fall down next to you.

It was very close. Too close for anyone else.
Normal for you.

—I don't do that.

—Sure, sure.

Silence.

The TV is still playing in the background.

Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder.

As usual.

Rafe doesn't react.

It's just adjusted a little so you're more comfortable.

As usual.

A few minutes pass.

"Did you have fun?" he asks.

-More or less.

-By?

You shrug.

—There were too many people.

—Yes… —he murmurs—. I didn’t like it either.

Her voice sounds softer now. She lowers it almost just for you.

Your fingers begin to play with the hem of his shirt

Without realizing it. Without thinking. He doesn't mention it either. He just lets it happen. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Hey," he says after a while.

-That?

—Tomorrow we're going to the beach.

-Who is it?

Rafe hesitates for a second.

-Us.

You barely raise your head to look at him.

—Just us?

He shrugs.

-Yeah.

Silence. But it's not awkward. It never is. You rest your head on his shoulder again.

-Well.

Rafe lowers his gaze towards you. His fingers brush against your arm, distracted, slow.

She doesn't even seem to notice. Neither do you. Because for you... all of that is normal.

Long glances. Constant closeness. Not wanting to be apart.

They never questioned it.

They never mentioned him.

And perhaps that's why…

They don't realize what they have

It's no longer just friendship.