Chapter Text
Every summer began the same way.
My dad swore he’d find a faster route.
My mom reminded him there wasn’t one.
Ren and I argued over the music.
And somewhere around mile seventy-three, I’d stop pretending I wasn’t counting down every exit until we reached Seaglass Lane.
“Can we please listen to something that wasn’t released before I was born?” Ren groaned from the seat beside me.
Dad gasped dramatically.
“Excuse me. This is a classic.”
“It’s ancient.”
“It’s timeless.”
“It’s torture.”
Mom laughed from the passenger seat, turning the volume down before either of them could start another twenty-minute debate.
I rested my forehead against the cool glass of the window.
Outside, the highway slowly gave way to marshland. Tall sea grass swayed in the afternoon breeze, and little seafood shacks began replacing gas stations and shopping centers.
My heart always started beating a little faster here.
Home.
Not the one where I lived.
The other one.
The beach house.
The one where every summer of my life had happened.
The Lockser family and the Fullbuster-Vastia family had spent every summer together for longer than I could remember. Our parents had been best friends since college, and somewhere along the way, the tradition had stopped being a tradition.
It was simply how summer began.
Dad turned onto the familiar island road, and before I could stop myself, I sat up a little straighter.
Don’t look.
I looked anyway.
The long gravel driveway came into view.
And there they were.
Parked exactly where they always seemed to end up.
Lyon’s black Jeep Wrangler.
Still dusty from whatever beach adventure he’d undoubtedly gone on the second he arrived.
I smiled.
Some things never changed.
Then my eyes drifted farther down the driveway.
Gray’s car.
A graphite-gray Ford Mustang sat parked beneath the shade of the old oak tree, sunlight glinting off its hood.
It was clean.
Almost suspiciously clean.
Of course it was.
Gray had always taken care of his things.
The corners of my mouth lifted before I could stop them.
He was here.
For some reason, seeing his car before seeing him made everything feel real.
College had let out weeks ago.
I’d known he’d already be here.
Still…
Seeing that Mustang sitting in the driveway made my stomach flutter in a way I absolutely refused to acknowledge.
Ren noticed exactly where I was looking.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“You know,” he said casually, “normal people usually say hello to the actual humans before checking to see if their crush’s car is here.”
I tore my eyes away from the driveway.
“I wasn’t looking for Gray.”
“No?”
“No.”
“You were just admiring the Ford engineering?”
“I like cars.”
“You couldn’t tell a Mustang from a microwave.”
“I absolutely could.”
He snorted.
“Name another Ford.”
“…Truck.”
Ren barked out a laugh.
“Oh, you’re hopeless.”
I shoved his shoulder hard enough to make him lean into the door.
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re transparent.”
Mom glanced back at us.
“What are you two fighting about now?”
“Nothing,” I answered a little too quickly.
Ren looked out the window, wearing the most innocent expression he’d ever managed.
“Juvia just really appreciates American automobiles.”
I kicked his shin.
“Ouch!”
“You deserved that.”
“ Worth it .”
Dad pulled into the driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
The beach house stood exactly as it always had.
Two stories.
Weathered white shingles.
Powder-blue shutters.
A wraparound porch overlooking the ocean.
The same porch swing.
The same flower boxes overflowing with hydrangeas.
The same wind chimes singing softly in the salt air.
Every year, it looked exactly the same.
Every year…
It somehow felt brand new.
Before Dad had even shifted the car into park, the screen door burst open.
“My babies!”
Ur hurried onto the porch, arms already spread wide.
I couldn’t help but smile.
Summer had officially begun.