the middle ≫ jj maybank

xiii. the club

Slater supposed she should have been grateful that her parents were even letting her come to Midsummers in the midst of her grounding. Although, due to her protests about the whole event, they likely considered it a punishment all on her own.

The Cambry-Shoupe family loaded themselves into the car before driving over to the country club. Unlike their home, the club bordered the ocean. As they drove past the water, Slater couldn't help but itch to be in it. The waves were in the perfect condition for a great evening of surfing.

They pulled up to the clubhouse, where a valet took their car away. Vic led his wife and daughters inside the building, where there was already quite a crowd of rich kooks.

Slater's eyes darted towards the bar. She really wanted a drink. She knew the bartenders regularly served Figure Eight's underaged youth, but she doubted her parents would let her even have a single glass of champagne. She knew her father wouldn't want his daughter to be seen at a public event underage drinking, even though he himself turned a blind eye to the business's alcohol policies.

"I'm going to go find my friends," Maeve announced before setting out into the crowd.

"Me too," Slater said. As she took a step forward, she felt a firm hand clamp on her arm.

"What friends are those, Slater?" Vic asked.

Slater sighed. "Kiara Carrera. She's the only person I know here, Dad. Please don't be like this tonight, Dad."

Vic's eyes softened and he released his grip on Slater's arm. He was suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Slate. Go ahead. Have fun tonight."

She offered a soft smile. "Thank you."

As her parents' set off towards their friends, Slater drifted through the crowd, keeping her eyes out for any familiar faces. She recognized a lot of them, of course, as Figure Eight was an extremely familiar community. However, she didn't see the Carreras yet.

"Slater Cambry."

A voice jumped out from behind her, setting uncomfortable shivers down the back of Slater's spine. She turned around, seeing Rafe Cameron's smug face in front of her.

"Rafe Cameron."

A waiter walked by, offering them each a glass of champagne. Slater took the drink, suddenly not caring what her parents thought. If she was going to have to talk to Rafe Cameron, she was going to need it.

"You clean up nicely," he said, smiling as he gave her a mocking nod of approval. "I can almost remember why I enjoyed last summer."

Slater rolled her eyes. "I guess you look okay too," she replied. "Although, I think you have something on your nose," she teased, touching the side of her nostril.

Rafe's face fell and he wiped at his nose before turning back to Slater with a glare. "Ha ha. Very funny."

Rafe's cocaine habit seemed to be common knowledge in Kildare County, to everyone but the boy's father, it seemed. Slater supposed Ward Cameron was too busy with his many business ventures and golden child, Sarah, to even care about his son's drug usage. It was sad, almost, though Slater knew that deep down, Rafe was the worst kind of asshole. He'd been that way before the drugs, and he would be that way long after.

He was handsome, though, and Slater's backhanded comment had some semblance of truth in it. He was dressed in a light blue suit, one that fit his muscular frame snugly and brought out the color in his light blue eyes. His hair was combed back neatly, and Slater could almost understand why she'd fallen for their little dalliance the previous summer.