The Last summer

chapter 1 – The Last summer The bus rumbled to a slow stop, its brakes sighing like it, too, was exhausted from the long journey down the coast. Amara pressed her forehead lightly to the window, watching as the faded wooden sign came into view: WELCOME TO SEABREEZE TOWN WHERE SUMMER NEVER ENDS A lie, she thought. Because summer always ended. It always had, and this time, it would take a piece of her with it. When she stepped onto the cracked pavement, the warm coastal air wrapped around her like a familiar hug. The scent of saltwater, coconut sunscreen, and roasted corn drifted on the breeze the same scent she’d grown up with every holiday. She inhaled deeply, hoping it would soothe the knot that had been sitting in her chest since the school year ended. Her mother waved excitedly from their old family car. “Amara! Over here, sweetheart!” Amara smiled, dragging her suitcase behind her as she walked over. “It’s hotter than I remember.” “That’s because you’ve been hiding in that big city for too long,” her mother teased, opening the trunk. “Seabreeze will remind you how to breathe.” As they drove through town, Amara pressed her hand against the open window, letting the wind lace its fingers through hers. The houses were still pastel-colored, the palm trees still leaned as if gossiping with the sky, and the ocean glimmered a few streets away, whispering childhood secrets she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear again. Then she saw Liam’s house. The once-white shutters were now a soft blue, but the porch still slanted a little to the left. There was a bike leaning against the railing, its paint chipped but familiar. Her heart gave a tiny, traitorous flutter. “He still lives there?” she asked before she could stop herself. Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Liam? Yes, he does. Why? You two were so close.” We were, Amara thought. Until they weren’t. They arrived at the family beach house smaller than she remembered, its wooden steps creaking as she walked inside. Amara dropped her bags in her old room. The walls still bore faint outlines where posters had once been, and the window still framed the same breathtaking view of the shoreline. After unpacking, the ocean called to her like it always had. She slipped out quietly and made her way down the sandy path, brushing her fingertips along the tall sea grass. The sky was shifting into evening colors, orange, pink, and soft plum, blending together like watercolor paint. The moment her bare feet touched the cool sand, something inside her relaxed. She walked toward the shoreline, letting the waves roll over her toes. The water felt alive, almost as if it recognized her. Seabreeze Town had always been magical at sunset. She closed her eyes and whispered to the sea, a childhood habit she’d never quite outgrown. “Still listening?” A voice behind her answered, calm and familiar: “Depends. Are you still talking to it?” She spun around. There he was. Liam. Not the boy she remembered, but not a stranger either. Taller now, shoulders broader, hair windswept as if the ocean itself brushed through it. His eyes, deep, thoughtful, a little sad, held hers for a long moment. “Liam,” she breathed. He gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I’d see you back here.” Amara tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah… I didn’t think I’d come back either.” The waves crashed gently nearby, filling the silence between them. They stood inches apart, close enough to hear each other’s breaths, yet feeling the weight of three years of distance. “You look different,” she said quietly. “So do you.” The wind tugged at her dress. She could hear her heartbeat louder than the waves. She wanted to ask him so many things: why he never wrote back, why their friendship had faded, and why he looked as though he was carrying the whole world in his eyes. But instead, she simply asked, “Do you… Still to the beach this late?” His gaze drifted to the horizon. “Only when I can’t sleep.” “Oh.” Her voice softened. “Do you sleep often?” “Not really.” Amara studied him, noticing the tired shadows beneath his eyes. There was something different about him something heavier, something unspoken. A secret. The sun dipped lower, turning the water into a sheet of glowing amber. For a moment, everything felt suspended the sunset, the wind, the space between them. Amara took a small step closer. “It’s good to see you,” she said. Liam met her eyes again, and this time, his smile held something real. “You too, Mara.” No one had called her that in years. As the last bit of sun slipped below the horizon, Amara knew one thing for certain: This summer would not be simple. And it would not be quiet. It would be the kind of summer that changed everything the kind you remembered long after it ended.