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"Ugh."
Ophelia Martin groaned in frustration for what felt like the hundredth time, her legs taking her as quick as she could walk, shoving her phone into the back pocket of her shorts as she stormed down the empty streets.
It was rare that Ophelia was mad. Sure, she often grew frustrated, though it didn't take much to get her smiling again, the usual cause behind the upright grin being Rafe Cameron. At this point in time, he was said reason Ophelia was beyond angry, and seemingly the last person she had wanted to be around.
Ophelia was hoping Sarah would answer her calls, though to to avail, Ophelia found herself storming towards the Cameron household, knowing well enough the eldest Cameron would be there.
"My mom thinks that I did it, even no there's no way I could of." Ophelia could hear Topper's voice from a distance, the girl silently cringing at the thought of his now dead end relationship with Sarah.
"It's always my fault, no matter what." Topper hissed, yet again, the girl inching closer to see the boy stop what he was doing, heavy breaths escaping his lips as he spoke. "Well, we know who did it." Rafe spoke up in a hushed tone, the girl rolling her eyes at the sarcastic being as she made herself presents in the garage, the three boys shirtless, grunting and groaning as they lifted.
The brunette was hesitant, her eyes lingering around the room before they fell back to Rafe, and within seconds she placed herself before him, shoving him back lightly in the chest. "You are really something." Ophelia spoke up, strands of curled hair falling down the sides of her face as she shook her head, inching away from the Cameron boy. "Pope's dad called my house."
It wasn't a surprise that Hayward had contacted Richard Martin, considering the business they had conducted for the past eight years hadn't gone unnoticed.
What was a surprise, though, was the look on the boy's faces when Ophelia stood inches away from Rafe, a sour look twisted upon her tan features, not a care in the world as she walked up to arguably the most hot headed individual on Figure Eight, and his only retaliation back was a lingering smirk.
"You're dad give you shit?" Topper mumbled, his eyes falling in the direction of the girl who nodded subtly. "Mhm." She whispered. "I'm sure your mom probably had words with my dad, too." Ophelia eyed Topper furiously, the boy retuning a soft, apologetic stare, only hoping Ophelia would accept.
"That little shit, Pope?" Kelce joined the conversation, shaking his head towards his imbecile friends, where as Ophelia received a welcoming smile. "Rafe, if you wouldn't have jumped them on the golf course, I'd still have a boat."
