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lyricalimerence · 4 years

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10 Things I Hate About You • 001

masterlist • 001, 002, 003... coming soon

Chapter One — The Rule

summary: jj & rafe talk w/ the dean, regular expositional stuffs

word count: 1618

warnings: a singular swear word, sexual innuendos & use of euphemisms for terms used in writing smut, allusions to underage drug use.

a/n: i hope this chapter isn't boring 😔 but yALL IM BEYOND EXCITED TO START THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEA KDJD

The Kildare County High School of the Outer Banks in North Carolina is a tale of two cities. The Kooks and the Pogues each have their metaphorically crowned Princes and Princesses, and separate castes in their social hierarchies walking the halls. As one Kook Princess, Kacey Brooks, violently rips a poster advertising the Spring Fling dance off the bulletin board, the Pogue Prince, JJ Maybank, and the Kook Prince, Rafe Cameron, are just about to run into each other in the doorway of the Dean’s office.

The Dean is a thin woman with a raspy voice. She’s snappy, vulgar, and in the midst of writing plotless, and pointless, smut into a novel.

JJ is sat on the opposite side of the Dean's desk, starting at the HP emblem etched into the back of her computer, the clacking of the keyboard keys echoed through the office. He knew why he landed himself there, he just wished she would let him go already. She wanted him gone, he wanted him gone, cut out the middleman and let him leave. The Dean wanted to write out graphic ( and disturbing ) sex scenes, and JJ wanted to get to the quad where he could watch Gracie Brooks from afar in between second and third period.

The Dean carefully closed her laptop, her thin, almost witchy fingers treating her creative medium with more respect than she's ever shown the students of Kildare County. Tapping her thick, pink framed glasses up the tanned bridge of her crooked nose, her eyes settled on JJ. He leant backwards in his chair, tipping precariously on its back legs. He looked the same as he always did when he came face to face with the Dean; a heather grey Coors t-shirt with the sleeves cut off draped over his shoulders—the emblem on the center of his shirt was problematic in itself—, navy blue cargo shorts hung relatively low from his hips, but not enough that he was showing anymore than anyone wanted to see, and his black combat boots left black treds on the tile flooring from the rubber soles. Tousled blond tendrils of hair were more or less disheveled than usual as they curled around his forehead, shading his cerulean eyes that were watching the Dean expectantly.

“Alright, Maybank. You’ve been absent the past week.” She picked up the file that was placed next to her closed laptop, a single piece of printer paper sticking out of the manila folder. her eyes scanned the corner of the paper, just soaking in the most surface level information as to why JJ Maybank was sitting in her office—again.

He nodded slightly, just barely dipping his chin in acknowledgement. “Yes, Ma’am. Do you wanna know—” JJ knew their conversation wouldn't last much longer. The Dean wanted him in and out. She had to mark that the student was in her office as part of her job description, but she didn't actually have to offer them advice or discipline.

“That’s enough. I’m sure this will happen again, just don’t be so obvious next time.” The Dean, who JJ knew by first name ( they were that well acquainted ), stood out of her chair to shoo the blond out of her small workspace she grew to call… her imaginative corner. The needy, shit-for-brains teenagers that were in and out of the place all day were ruining the “aura.”

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, Ma’am.” JJ replied as he turned on his boot-clad heel through the doorway, only to come face-to-face with Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron, the Kook Prince in all his Ralph Lauren polo glory. It wasn’t that JJ was short—he wasn’t at six feet tall—, but Rafe had two inches of height up on him. Even in a metaphorical sense, Rafe seemingly always had the upper hand. Whether it was from a financial, familial, or even school performance standpoint.

So, with a pointed glare ( that was returned by Rafe ), JJ stepped through the doorway, eager to rid himself of the Cameron boy's presence before he threw a punch for no reason besides intuition.

The Dean looked up as JJ walked away, leaving Rafe to turn in towards the interior of the office, a smirk that was bound to stick on his face like a silly childhood white lie, pulling at the corner of his lips. “Rafe Cameron,” her scratchy voice drawled as she dropped her clipboard about a foot onto her desk, letting the clattering sound echo. Rafe didn’t bother with the formalities of sitting down, he, like JJ, knew he would be in and out before he could say the words, “Outer Banks.”

“I see we’re making these visits a weekly ritual.”

“Only so I can see you, Ma’am.” His smirk widened into a sarcastic grin. Despite being so, outlandishly different, Rafe and JJ were uncannily the same. Even in ways they wouldn’t be caught dead with another person knowing about. “Should I play our collection of Frank Ocean songs?”

“Very clever, Rage.” She exaggerated her calling him Rage, his name was so close to the word and the word described almost his entire personality. The Dean relished in the irony. She picked up another manila folder, flipping through the papers inside she looked back towards the boy with disdain. “Says here you snorted coke in the cafeteria?”

Rafe sighed, what it said was absolutely the truth, but he couldn’t get by without putting at least a little effort in. “I was joking, I was pretending to do a bump when it was just salt.”

“Salt?” The Dean walked towards Rafe ready to push him out of her office, although the snorting of coke started turning gears in her crude brain. “That had to burn going down didn’t it? Next time, do it in the bathroom. Now, adios!”

With an exaggerated eye roll, Rafe left the Dean’s office, where she was opening up her laptop once more, muttering to herself, “Snorting coke...high sex? Bump, sounds modern.”

. . .

In the heart of the quad, as the wind picked up, blowing the remnants of an oceanic breeze across the grounds of the high school, JJ fell into step with his best friend—John B. Neither had materials needed for class. John B had a piece of paper stuffed into the back pocket of his shorts, and JJ was going off maybe having a pen or pencil in the amalgam of beer bottle caps and the paper with which he handrolls his joints jingling in one of the various pockets in his cargo shorts. Groups of people stand in their own, small congregations. There are the basic beauts—the Kook girls and guys that have nothing going for them besides their looks. Their parents make good money, enough to stay on Figure Eight, the rich side of the island, but not enough for them to be extraordinary in any feat. There are the surfers; they are Cut’s pride and joy. They adorn their lockers with stickers and listen to reggae music in the halls. One of the only groups in school that intermingled between social classes, that is to say the only group that blurred the line between Kook and Pogue, are the stoners. Lots of smoking weed, but sometimes someone can rope in something stronger. Normally, it was cocaine, considering the expansive market for the drug in the Outer Banks.

John B and JJ found another one of their close friends, Pope. The three Pogues were in their own little world, talking amongst themselves about possible storms heading in that would create surges perfect to surf when Gracie Brooks and her best friend, Arianna Chavez passed them. JJ’s attention was immediately caught. He was like a fish and whenever he talked to Gracie, saw Gracie, hell, whenever he interacted with her in any way, he would take the bait on the fishing rod. She was like a magnet, albeit, she didn’t quite return his feelings.

Gracie is one of Figure Eight’s finest. Her mother split a few years ago, and neither Gracie, nor her older sister Kacey Brooks, have told anyone why. Steve Brooks—Kacey and Gracie’s father—is an obstetrician, and one of the very few on the island. That in itself racks in quite the salary for the two Kook princesses to spend.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered, as the two girls passed him.

Gracie continued to preach the differences between “like” and “love” via the analogy of her high-top Converse to her Doc Martens. Arianna nodded her head in agreement. While there was just something about Gracie, whether it be her cookie-cutter looking exterior in short dresses or her allusions to a deeper meaning behind her relationships with her shoes, there was also something about Arianna. Before she became best friends with Gracie, she was more outgoing, more talkative, more eloquent with her words, but Gracie’s influence changed that, and if the universe was any indication, it seldom sure that Arianna would revert back to her pre-Gracie self after her influence is gone.

“Dude, you know the rule.” John B said, tugging on JJ’s shoulder as the blond sixteen-year-old almost followed Gracie, like he couldn't help but just be pulled into her wake. It was true, JJ did know the rule. It was widely known that the Brooks sisters Do Not Date. In Kacey’s freshman year, the rule was widely condemned by the male population until halfway through the year something snapped. She was no longer just another Kook Princess with preppy sundresses and vintage Reeboks. Now, all the fuss was on Gracie. Every guy was vying for her attention. She simply relished in the attention, and all JJ could do was pine quietly until graduation. Or, he could meddle. There was always that.

tags: @perkily @mortifiedposts @poguequeen @abigailpankow @curlybrownhairedboys @steverogers123 @outerbankslut @jayjaymaebank @jjssarah @whOreforharry @wowitswondergurl @anonymous0writer @kodi8314 @outrbank @aestheticcraze @kylosleftbuttcheek @x-lulu @dailygrace06 @calswildflower95 @insanitysparkles @prejudic3 @ilovejjmaybank @apoguecalledjj @xxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooooo @calumbroutledge @rudys-pankow @bxllasanosa @write-from-the-heart @thelocalpogue @fandomsinapile @starkeymarkey @lovingxjj @beatement-l @drew-starkey @beckester @butgilinsky @kayak-huesgen

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#obx #outer banks #jj #jj maybank #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rudy pankow #drew starkey #jj maybank fic #rafe cameron fic #10 things i hate about you #outer banks fanfiction

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