❝ 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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AS THE SUN'S RAYS filtered through the curtains, bathing the room in a gentle morning glow, Matilda began to squint as she slowly awakened from her slumber. A small noise escaped her lips as she stretched and rolled over, her leg popping in the process from being in the same position for too long. She glanced at the empty space beside her and even put her hand on the cold sheets to fully process that for once she wasn't the first one awake.
She reached for her phone to confirm the time, only to be greeted by a screen filled with notifications from her family and of course Charlie, wishing her a Happy Birthday. A quiet snort escaped her as she read a message from her father, reminding her about lunch and reminiscing on how his little girl was growing up alongside a photo he had clearly taken from one of their photo albums of her covered in chocolate. She could already envision the tears welling up in his eyes as he typed it out. James Shoupe was known to be a chaotic wreck when it came to sentimental moments. And it might sound strange coming from a teenager, but she wasn't embarrassed about her father being that way— in some way it healed the inner child in her that missed out on those moments.
Matilda responded to the messages before finally dragging herself out of bed, noting that it was already after eight. She made her way to the bathroom door, where the sound of the shower permeated through the wooden door. With a light tap of her first she knocked on the door before pushing the door ajar, enough so that the boy could hear her. "Get your hands off your dick, I'm coming in," she playfully taunted, only to be met with a muffled grumble from behind the shower screen.
As she closed the bathroom door, a cloud of steam enveloped the room, causing her to roll her eyes in exasperation. Rafe, as usual, had forgotten to turn on the fan. After doing it for him, she retrieved her makeup bag from the cabinet beneath the sink; one that permanently lived under there, a testament to how often she spent at the Cameron's. While in the midst of washing her face, she had left the water running, much to the annoyance of Rafe who cursed in the confines of the shower from the fluctuating temperature.
