❝ rule number five: never be seen with a pogue ❞
The war between pogues and kooks continues to rage as a storm of emotion brews between sides, putting loyalties to the ultimate test.
As romance blossoms, treasure hunts unfold, and lives hang in the...
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TUCKED AWAY AMIDST swaying palm trees and concealed by sand dunes, the Boneyard sat on the southern edge of the island, skirting Pogue territory. Away from prying eyes of adults and law enforcement, the teenagers of Kildare County set aside their rivalries and allowed the small spot to become mutual territory for parties. The ongoing feud between Kooks and Pogues was temporarily numbed by alcohol— for the most part.
Truth be told, Matilda was not particularly fond of parties. She only attended them when roped along by Charlie or Rafe, occasionally Sarah, although Rafe was always in tow—this would be her second one without him now. But, Matilda would much rather be nestled in the comfort of her bed, wrapped in a cosy embrace while indulging in an episode of Gilmore Girls than surrounded by drunken teenagers.
Matilda possessed an outgoing nature, genuinely enjoying conversations with others. However, she also had a tendency to be reserved. If no one approached her, she would not initiate contact. The people who knew her would say she was fun, but those who did not judged her too quickly. Camilla Harris once told Rafe to leave his child at home and Matilda had not lived that down ever since. In her world, fitting in meant embracing drugs and alcohol, and her near abstinence from them made it ten times more challenging. Sarah often joked about becoming an alcoholic in the future, no harm intended, she knew that. Because, Sarah wasn't aware of Matilda's irrational fear of succumbing to such a fate.
"Are you okay?" Charlie whispered.
Hand in hand, the pair strolled across the sandy beach, ascending the dune that guided them towards the heart of the Boneyard. Matilda would typically revel in the gentle caress of the sun's rays on the soft sand beneath her feet, and how with each step the warmth seeped into her bare feet— but she couldn't that night.
Her response was a mere whisper, a weak smile masking the pain she felt inside followed by a simple, "I'm fine". All she truly desired was to retreat under her comforting blue waffle covers and let her tears flow freely, for her heart was aching.
