Sunkissed

Day one: Bad Religion

"Oh, unrequited love. To me, it's nothing' but a one-man cult. And cyanide in my Styrofoam cup, I can never make them love me, Never make 'em love me."-Bad Religion Frank Ocean

Gianna's pov

I watch my stepsister, Ariella Lau, tug at her school uniform, complaining about the same thing, how the white dress shirt is so basic. She's always trying to get Dad, who's a lawyer, to represent the students and argue that the dress code is sexist and outdated.

"I can't wait to get out of these funking uniforms. The skirt is the only good thing about this outfit. Also, I swear Ms. Alana becomes more of a batch to me every day. It's like she's been staring me down all school year. It sucks that I had to be born three years after you," she confided.

Ariella and I weren't close. I mean, we went to the same school, and we lived together fifty percent of the time. If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be at Kildare Prep. I would be attending school and home on the cut like my cousin and his friends.

I wasn't close with her, unlike her twin sister, Sienna, the complete opposite of Ariella. Sienna was easier. She didn't cling to wanting to be loved. She either accepted it, or she didn't care. She understood, just as I did, that the affair between our parents wasn't something we should be ganging up on each other over. It also wasn't supposed to be something we used to bring us closer together like Ariella did.

"Are you going to tonight's bonfire? I know someone who'd love to see you there," Ariella says.

Rafe Cameron. Kook king of Kildare Prep and Figure Eight, for that matter. They treat his words like law among the Kooks, like he's not just another kid using his daddy's money to force his power. We used to be best friends when we were kids, but then I found out that he liked me. Ever since then, our friendship has been weird because he can't let the childish crush go. So I wasn't going to the bonfire, but now I definitely won't be going because it would give him the wrong idea.

"I have no interest in being a spectacle of Rafe Cameron and his bottom bitches. These are the same boys who will never grow to be anything more than boys living off their mommy and daddy's bank accounts. They made Kie's school year here hell. I remember hearing the rumors, and then I got the call Mike gave.

Kiara Carrera is one of the most honorable people I know and truly one of my best friends. Her parents have done so much for the island. Kie is the kind of person you would beg to have in your life, from her ideas about how we can better our planet to just being an overall great friend. The bullying she received from the Kooks at this school caused her to fall into a deep depression. Then one day, I was playing in the yard with my Doberman, Brock, when Mike came up to me.

"Kie tried to kill herself. Do you know anything about what happened?" His voice was disordered as I tried to hold back my tears.

"Matter fact f**k all Rafe and bottom bitches the kooks who took apart of what they call Kie's Kook yearI hope they get a hot summer because that's what hell is going feel like for them." I jeered

"What did you expect? She didn't even give us a chance before ditching her people to hang with gutter trash," Ariella says.

"Excuse me? I can't believe those words just left your mouth. You have nothing. My grandfather threatened to cut our father off if he gave you a dime besides a roof over your head and an education. Ariella, you are the definition of gutter trash. Maybe even lower," I chastised.

Before I could walk away, her friends came over. Translation, Rafe and his friends. Great. The last thing I need is them coming over to watch him desperately try to act like his high king status isn't over the second we graduate. I feel his arms wrap around me, and before I can even say his name, he starts talking.

"School's out, Davenport, and I'm expecting to see you at one of our parties," he says.

"I would sooner argue with a forty-year-old man who has never been touched and never will be touched by a woman than go to a party where you and your friends get wasted and act like drunken frat boys. I mean, we can't forget when you all burned down the town drive-in just to get at the Pogues," I say.

I move out of his embrace and put some distance between us. It's too bad this is what he turned into. It's like watching a train wreck that could have been avoided. I'm forced to see the broken parts of my past outside of school, too. I live next door to him, and our families are so close that we host weekly brunches together.

"I have to go before it starts raining. I'm riding my bike," I say, trying to get out of the conversation before it starts.

"Dad doesn't like you riding your bike," Ariella calls out.

"Dad also doesn't like staying faithful, but I don't see any of us following in his footsteps. Rafe. Rafe's bottom bitches. I'd say it was nice seeing you, but I've been told lying is a sin, and I'm trying to break the habit," I shoot back.

I try to walk away, but Rafe steps in front of me. What the f**k does he want now? Was that weak attempt to talk to me earlier not enough? His hands wrap around my waist this time, and it reminds me of the little boy who used to try to pick me up whenever we went to the beach. But that boy is gone, replaced with the lesser version of whatever this is supposed to be.

"I'm driving you home. You're not riding your bike in the rain." His tone is structured in a way that tells me he won't take no for an answer, but I'll still try.

"No, thank you. I like the ride. It clears my head," I reply, not giving in to what won't be an easy fight.

"I can drive quietly, but, Gianna, you're not riding in the rain. Or we can just wait it out together, but I'm not letting you ride in that. Ariella hasn't stopped complaining about how long it took you to do your hair. It would suck for the rain to ruin it. I won't say a word. Promise."

Pro: I won't have to redo my hair when I get home.

Pro: I won't have to hear Elizabeth say, "Just wait until your father gets home and sees how untidy you look after disobeying him."

Con: I'll be stuck alone in a car with Rafe Cameron.

"You already failed," I say. "That was a full sentence. The second you try to talk again, I'm hopping out."

Why did I let him talk me into this again? I mean, I know I shouldn't have, but a free ride to avoid the rain is better than being stuck with him at school, yapping in my ear until it stops.

My phone buzzes. I check the screen.

Unknown: I assure you, Davenport, the second I open my mouth, you have my full permission to throw me out of the moving car.

I stare at the screen. Who the hell gave him my number? Then I realize I've had the same number since I was thirteen, when my parents agreed I deserved my own phone. I go to block his number, but a message from a different number appears in its place. He waves his phone at me in an attempt to mock me.

"I have different numbers for different things, Gianna. I can play this game all day if you like," he loudly affirmed, causing passing bystanders to look at us in confusion.

"Rafe, please. I'm not doing this. I told you when we were kids that I don't want a relationship with you. I'm not trying to be rude, but that's the only way you'll hear me."

Buzz.

Unknown: I have nothing but time.

I turn to face him. There's no need to wait because there will never be a me and him together, and I hate that he's forcing me to be mean to him. I wrinkle my nose. I just had to befriend this boy on the beach when I was five.

"My God, find a hobby or something to do with your life other than waiting around for a girl who doesn't want you and has expressed that. I mean this with my whole chest, Rafe Xavier Cameron. I will never see you as anything more than this because this is pathetic."

I softened my voice because I already knew my words were harsh.

Unknown: I have a hobby. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes Mondays, I sit in the auditorium and watch the ballet students practice Swan Lake. Later in the week, I sit at the Wreck until they close, except on Sundays and Wednesdays.

I stop in my tracks. What sick hell am I living in? He openly admitted that he'd been following me. I move away, putting as much space between us as possible. What was I thinking, getting in a car with him? For all I know, he wouldn't even be taking me home. Something about thinking of all the possibilities makes my heart tighten.

"That's stalking, Cameron. You just admitted to a literal crime. I could tell Peterkin."

Unknown: That won't stop me. Lock me up if you want. But I'll still find a way to follow you.

That right there should have been enough to tell me not to leave the school with him, but it was too late. I mean, my father's a lawyer, and I don't see him letting Rafe get away with kidnapping me. But Lucien Davenport would also keep this under wraps to protect his perfect image, so I might be a goner.

We had already entered the parking lot. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Everyone knows I left with him if an investigation needs to be opened.

"So, which car is yours?" I ask, covering my head with my plastic binder.

Still looking around for a Jeep or a Ford Raptor or honestly anything else, we get closer to the edge of the parking lot. The only things there are a silver sedan and a red motorcycle.

"Is there a chance that the silver sedan is yours and not the motorcycle?" I ask.

"Nope. That's mine," he says.

"Yeah, no. I'll take my chances with the rain," I say.

He was out of his mind if he thought I was leaving the school in that. Was he trying to kill me, or worse, let my father kill him? Because if Lucien Davenport sees this, he'll kill me, then kill Rafe, and then somehow bring me back just to kill me again.

"Stop being stubborn and get on. It's faster than walking, and we'll beat the storm if you shut up and let me drive."

I like that he didn't let that childish crush stop him from speaking his mind. I think I have more respect for now than I did a moment ago. I look at the grey clouds and do I really want to risk my hair. I mean I'm causing us any further delays we could have been on our way home.

"Fine. But the second it pours, we're off the road."

I rest my hands on his shoulders as he takes off. I need to keep my eyes on the road, but feeling this thing zip down it sends wave after wave of anxiety through me. I was sure Rafe wasn't going to kill us, but my mind wouldn't stop pressing the thought into my brain. Every time we picked up speed, I dug my fingers deeper into his shoulders.

"You'll be more secure if you wrap your arm around my waist," he tells me.

"Don't push it, Cameron. I'm already on this death trap," I say.

"Fine. Fly off and fall into a bush with scrapes all over your body," he replies.

I remove my hand from his shoulder and place it around his waist. Before he even starts the bike, I can already feel him smirking. I rather have him brag about me touching him for a twenty minute ride then having to explain to a officer why I didn't make home cause we zip to fast and I slip off the motorcycle.

"You can drop me off right in front of the sign that says Figure Eight. No need for you to drive me home," I say.

He ignores me, passing the sign and driving into Figure Eight, weaving through until we reach the very back of the community. Just a few blocks down is Davenport Manor.

"Are you allergic to following simple orders, Cameron? I mean, between this and you coming to school in a hockey mask painted like horror movie icons for Halloween and causing a scene when the teacher clearly told you not to," I say.

I watch him put together what I just told him, adding it to the lie I told him back when he craved my attention. The biggest smile spreads across his face, showing off those cheeks that used to convince my mother to let him spend the night.Everything about him is becoming a blur. I can't stop mixing the man standing in front of me with the little boy I once knew.

"So you lied. You did pay attention. Good. The motive behind that was to make you smile, because I know you love Halloween," he says.

I can't believe he still remembers that. I didn't even know that was his intention back then. I guess it was sweet. I saw the show they tried to put on during study hall, but only for a second. Anything more would have been a distraction. A distraction, Lucien would have said, and Davenports aren't granted distractions until they're dead.I couldn't afford to let anything pull my attention away. If my grades dropped below a ninety-eight, the lecture from Lucien would have been far worse than the humiliation of begging a teacher for a chance to redo an assignment.

"Honestly, it was a distraction. And a big one. It wasn't funny or entertaining, just reckless. But you wouldn't care, because your dad will just go to the Board of Education and throw a check or two at them to get you back on track, which he must have done," I say with a hint of malice as I hold my books to my chest.

I don't know why I'm being so malicious. I know that's how my words come out, but I wish they didn't. I want him to see me as a girl who doesn't want to be loved, not someone who's cruel and heartless.I watch him, waiting to see how he'll respond. I want him to be cold. I want him to hurt me the way I've hurt him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," I say.

"No, I get it. You're a tight-ass who thinks life has to be boring, so you follow all the rules, kiss up to the people who can get you ahead, and look down on everyone who's actually living the one life they have instead of wasting it the way you are."

He doesn't say it as an insult. It sounds more like an observation, like he's telling me how everyone else probably sees me.

"This right here just makes me want to work ten times harder than everyone who walked out of your life. I want to get you out of that tight-ass bubble because this isn't who you used to be."

I open my mouth, but close it just as fast. I'm usually quick with a comeback, but maybe I should just listen.

He was right.

I did need to fix this. What happened to me? I used to feel alive. Somewhere along the way, I turned into this hollow version of myself.

"So, there's a bonfire tonight. Will I see you there, or are you going to act like you're too good to hang out with people your own age?" he asks with a grin.

If I didn't already have plans, I know Mom would've convinced me to go. She'd probably use everything Rafe just said about spending time with people my own age. She'd also like the idea of us reconnecting at the party.

I wouldn't mind that.

But if her hope was that Rafe and I would get back together, I'd rather save the trip on my bike.

"No. I have plans with my mom tonight on the Cut. And even if I didn't, the great Lucien Fox Davenport would never let me anywhere near reckless teenage fun. It's better not to get on his bad side," I say sincerely.

"Yeah, it sucks that your dad still has a huge stick up his ass. I would've thought having Ariella as his daughter would've knocked it loose by now." He laughs, then shrugs. "But it would've been nice seeing you tonight."

I laugh him off. He's lying about wanting to see me tonight. Nobody willingly wants to see me.Still, I have to admit, it was nice to feel wanted somewhere, even if it was only by him.Besides, parties and I don't mix well. At the last one I went to, I spent most of the night babysitting the punch bowl before ending up crying in Mia Rossi's bathtub.

"You wouldn't care if I showed up. Last party I went to, Ariella forced me to go. I spent the night hiding in the corner while everyone asked why I was there. I don't do great in social settings unless I know someone. One person."

"I look for you at every party," he says. "Some part of me hopes you're there... but the other part? Doesn't. Because I know how we get. But tonight come. Bring someone you connect with. Stay for one hour.."

He looks for me? I don't know if I can believe that. But even he can agree these aren't the kinds of parties I should be attending. But also... did he actually have a great idea for once? Maybe I should... No. I shouldn't be thinking about ditching my mom.

'Thanks for the invite but maybe I'll live once I get the early admission at Duke I have interview with them in the morning it's has one of the best law programs.' I say

Duke is the school for Davenports. Lucien wouldn't have it any other way. His plan is two years at Duke, then transfer to Harvard because, with those two years under your belt, they'll see you as Harvard material. It worked for him, my grandfather, and every Davenport before them.Meaning any chance of doing my own thing, of becoming an architect, is out the window. Davenports don't grow up to be anything else. They're lawyers, and nothing else matters.

'Well they'll be lucky to have you.' He says

Luck isn't equivalent to being a Davenport. You don't become lucky. You either have it or you don't. My grades and my last name can only get me so far, and I don't want to get in just because I'm a Davenport. If I have to be a lawyer, I want it to be because I know I earned it. Because I know I can.

"Luck doesn't matter when you're a Davenport. You can have all the luck in the whole f*****g world, Rafe, but to Lucien it doesn't mean s**t if you don't have anything to show for it. I can't lose everything. I can't."

My legs turn to putty, or at least they feel like they do. My chest tightens, and I can't move no matter how hard I try. It's like my body won't listen to me.

'You can't mean that I'm sure your father would understand if you don't get into Duke.' He says

Lucien isn't like the other dads in Figure Eight. I can't even look at him like a dad. He expects more from me than he ever has from Sienna or Ariella.He won't hate me if I don't get into Duke, if I don't graduate at the top of my class, or, worse, if I don't become a Davenport lawyer. There won't be hate. There'll be shame. And Lucien's shame isn't normal parental disappointment that fades after you do something better. No, you don't feel it at first while everyone else is talking about their future with their parents. Dear old Lucien stays silent because you wanted to be an artist. Then you slowly start thinking maybe following your own career path wasn't the best idea. Every time you see someone excited about their college plans, he'll make a comment about how that could've been you, but you decided to ruin your future over some silly childhood dream. Until one day, every time you look at your pencil and sketchbook, all you feel is a sick, green pit in your stomach.

That's his shame.

I hate Lucien, but it doesn't stop me from wanting his approval because his shame is so much worse.'He won't.' Is all I can said

I don't even notice we've made it to my front door, or that we were walking there while we talked. I glance down at my watch.

Three forty.

Which means Elizabeth is already home, and I don't need to be caught in the crossfire of that. She'll use the time to belittle Mom because she knows it's her night. I swear, I don't understand how a woman like her could've raised Sienna and Ariella.

"Hey, do you want to keep walking and talking? I just can't deal with Elizabeth. She tries way too hard to compete with my mother, and it's not something I want to get into right now," I respond wearily, already walking past the front door.

He catches up, closing the gap between us as I weave through my family's garden until we reach the old park tucked away in the back. It has the swings and the plastic slide my father had commissioned for me when I was four because I wasn't allowed to play with other kids. He claimed it was the tainted Cut genes that made me love the outdoors and the people who filled it.

I sit on the slide, stretching my legs along the side, as Rafe hovers beside me with a smile.

"So, do you have any plans besides studying, or is overachieving just going to keep overachieving this summer? I mean, my family and I are going to Nassau this summer if you want to tag along."

"Well, besides movie night tonight... my cousin, who I assume is coming over, will probably raid our fridge and use our Wi-Fi to finish the book report I've been telling him to work on for weeks. I'll help him, then he'll leave and get himself into some kind of trouble. As for me, I'll be studying for my next year at Duke," I say, trying to hide my disappointment over the future that's already been decided for me.

"Oh, yeah. If I remember correctly, your cousin's Routledge?" he asks, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.

"Don't say it like that. He's a good kid, and his friends are lucky to have each other. But yeah, our mothers are sisters. You have to be nice to him because he's my cousin, and it means you win points with me. Me, though? I don't have to act like I like the little s**t. I'm like the older sister he never had, and he's like the little brother I never had," I banter, knowing if JB were here right now, he'd be fighting back.

"But isn't Elizabeth pregnant with your baby brother? It just seems weird that you see him as your brother when you're about to have an actual brother. I mean, it seems like you're closer to the people on the Cut than you are to us," he says, like it's something that's always bothered him.

"You sound like that bothers you, Cameron. I mean, I am closer to the Cut. I feel like I don't have to prove myself there. I don't have to feel like I'm trying too hard when I'm over there. I don't have to feel like I'm not goo—"

I stop myself, realizing I've said too much. It feels like I'm trapping a little fly with my thoughts and feelings, just waiting for it to find a way out.

"I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I just mean... you have people who care about you here too, Davenport. Don't forget that."

He sounds sincere.

"Yeah, I know. Well, I have to go get ready. Enjoy your night, Cameron," I tell him as I walk back toward my house.

****

Leigh Evens. My mother. My best friend.

I can almost hear the pause from the people around me. Your mother's your best friend. How could you let that happen? Why would she let that happen? I mean, if it were up to me, I would've been living with her when they were fighting for custody of me back when I was five. But when you're Lucien Davenport and your good buddy Judge Thornton plays a few rounds of golf with you while the drinks are flowing, you can convince him to do just about anything if it means he'll get a favor in return someday. Lucien claims he did it because he loves me. That staying on Figure Eight meant I'd have a promising future. But he didn't do it out of love. He did it to spite my mother.

Lucien doesn't know what love is.

Control is the only thing he craves, and he'll step on his own daughter to get it.

I walk toward his study, debating whether I should ask to borrow the car to get to Mom's or just settle for taking my bike. I make it past the study, but before I'm out of earshot, he calls my name.

"Gianna, come into my office. We need to talk before you leave for your mother's."

I can hear the disappointment in his voice from the doorway, and I try to ignore it, digging my fingernails into my palm as I walk in.He looks at the chair in front of him, giving me an approving nod to sit, but I don't take it. I stare at the dark-skinned man with the balding head and tailored suit. He removes his glasses, showing me he isn't asking anymore.

He's telling me to sit.

I take the seat, not wanting to cause more of an issue. The quicker I comply, the easier this will be.

(Author note: The late Lance Reddick is who I see as Lucien davenport )

I look at him. Instead of his unamused look, a small smile spreads across his face. Instead of feeling relieved by that small bit of grace like I used to, I tell myself I can breathe easy, at least for now.

"I don't know if Ariella told you, but we're going to Nassau for the summer with the Camerons, the Thorntons, and the Kelces," he tells me.

I already know where he's going with this.

The summer, when they're away, is the only time I don't have to split my time commuting back and forth to Mom's, something I've been doing since I was thirteen. The only condition Lucien ever gave me was that I had to complete a case study on a trial of his choosing by the end of the summer.

"Maybe we should reopen your custody case. Maybe Ariella was right. Trips like these should be spent with family, meaning the whole family, or..."

He hesitates, and I cling to that or.

"...we can have a mini debate. Compared to everyone else in this house, you can actually hold your own."

I wave him off. One of the few times I ever dismiss Lucien is when it comes to Mom. Tonight is her night, granted by a judge, and even Lucien wouldn't try to challenge that.

"I just need the car for tonight. I need to pick up my check from the Wreck, then I'm going to Mom's. I only asked because it was raining earlier."

"You completed driver's ed, you passed your permit test, you know the law, and we've had the talk. It's your car. As long as you follow what you know, take it."

***

I pull into our two-bedroom home. This is home, and nothing will ever ruin that because even if this house went up in smoke, she'd still be here. I yell from the door that I was home. Our Doberman, Brock, walks over to me, but Mom doesn't. I give in to his embrace, letting him jump on me as his tail beats against my leg.

"Have you seen Mom?" I look to the dog for answers.

She doesn't work today, and if she did, she would've texted me about a last-minute shift change like always. She knew I was coming home. She wouldn't have left if she knew I was coming. I pull out my phone, dialing Tony from the diner, hoping he can give me some clarity on the matter.

"Hey, Tony, did Mom show up today?" I ask, concern filling my voice.

"I haven't seen your mom in a week, but if I hear from her, I'll let you know," he replies.