Struggles of Summer Love

Chapter 1

As the first rays of the sun pierce the morning sky, a palpable sense of anticipation stirs the air, awakening a voracious appetite for adventure in everyone it touches. The sunrise doesn’t just herald a new day; it ushers in the promise of summer—an open invitation to embrace the unknown and revel in the thrill of new experiences. As the warmth of the sun banishes the last traces of winter, it fills hearts and minds with a longing for endless days bathed in golden light.

Summer in Maine transforms the landscape into a vibrant playground, where the days stretch lazily ahead, filled with the laughter and carefree spirits of those who flock to its sandy shores. The ritual of sneaking out to late-night bonfires becomes an open secret, a cherished part of the season's charm, as the night sky is set ablaze with the glow of fire against the dark.

With the arrival of tourists, the rhythm of local life quickens, pulsing with the energy of incoming waves of visitors. The streets buzz with a chaotic mix of excitement and trepidation. For Harper and her friends, this influx signals not just the arrival of summer but the start of a season to seize opportunities, stir up a bit of mischief, and maybe turn a profit in the bustling tourist trade.

As they bid farewell to the constraints of school and the chill of colder days, they welcome the quirky inconveniences of summer— the incessant buzz of insects and the sweltering heat— with open arms. It's their time to thrive in the chaos, to make memories that stick longer than the season’s heat. For them, summer is not just a season but a state of mind, where every day promises new adventures and the nights offer endless possibilities.

Harper was ready for a busy summer filled with lasting memories. She pulled her hair elastic out of her disheveled raven hair as she jumped into a rusted, jacked-up truck. As her eyes met those of her friends, Reagan and Nora, She smiled. The driver, a girl with long blonde hair and a Victoria secret supermodel body, said, “It must have been a busy day at the Lobster shack.”

“Reagan, you wouldn’t have believed how busy it was. Terrorist, I mean tourist season is in full tilt. It’s only June, but this might be a long hot summer.” I said as I wiped my brow.

“You only got out thirty minutes late. Be thankful there is still sunlight and the bugs haven’t come out yet. Are you ready to spend the rest of the day being beach bum?”

“Here come tan lines and sunshine.” Harper said as Reagan started her truck.

The truck whined as it started. It growled and grumbled as it started down the road. The ride mimicked an old wooden roller coaster. Avoiding potholes is more difficult than detonating a bomb. With every bump the truck encountered, it begged for mercy. Music blared in hopes to cover up the trucks screaming. No one was ready to deal with any trouble the truck might be warning them. Instead of dealing with it, Reagan cranked the volume to the max. The vehicle began to vibrate, whether it was due to the loud music, or a new issue, no one bothered to check. The vehicle pulled up to the beach and the vibration stopped as the engine was turned off.

The girls giggled as they climbed out of the truck. I lifted her light blue Lobster shack t-shirt to reveal a pink bikini top. Reagan and Nora followed suit. Shorts and shoes went flying into the back of the truck as sand flew wildly into the air. The girls laid their colorful blankets on the sand. Nora, the palest of the group, pulled a large bottle of sunscreen out of her L.L. Bean tote. “Anyone else need some?” she asked.

“I should be fine. One of the joys of being of French Canadian decent, is that I rarely get a sunburn. If by chance I do get a burn, it will turn into a tan within a day.” I said.

“Well, if Nora doesn’t get any sunscreen on her, she will look like a lobster within a couple of hours.” Reagan said as she grabbed the bottle of sunscreen. She squeezed a palmful size into her hand and smeared it all of Nora’s face.

“Hey! What was that for?” Nora screeched.

Reagan and I erupted in laughter as Nora scowled at them. Before Reagan and I had the chance to notice the smirk that started to grow on Nora’s face, they got covered in sunscreen. They shrieked in unison. Nora laughed and said, “ You deserve it.”

As I rubbed the lotion in, I admitted, “Okay we did deserve it. Now let's sunbathe and check out the tourists.”

One of the only good thing about tourist season, is attractive tourists. The girls laid on their brightly colored towels as their skin became crispy. As the sun started to set, the girls watched as people started to go home. Mothers carried their sand covered children who begged to stay. A group of redneck guys pushed each other around as they pulled another beer out of their coolers. One ran back to his truck to grab fireworks. People started to vanish as the stars appeared. The cold breeze off of the ocean gave Nora a chill. She then said, “So should we head home or see where this drunk redneck fiasco ends up?”

“I don’t have to show up at the Lobster shack until 10am.”Reagan said.

“Same here. Let's see what these guys do. Maybe one of them will do something stupid. We will see it before it makes the Seagull Gazette.” Harper said.

“They are rednecks, of course they're going to do something stupid.” Nora says with a sigh. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they pulled out some gasoline and light crap on fire.”

“You spoke too soon.” Reagan said as a tall guy goes running towards his friends with a red gas can.

Even draped on their beach towels, the trio couldn't escape the relentless cling of sand. As they rose, shaking off the grit, an unseen force seemed to draw them irresistibly towards the ocean. They strolled past a raucous group, maybe not quite rednecks, but certainly a crew deep into their cups. Among them stood a man with broad shoulders and abs sharp enough to rival cut steel. Harper's gaze lingered on his sculpted form, too mesmerized to notice the intense blue eyes already locked on hers.

Suddenly, the magnetic pull intensified, and Harper found herself inexplicably moving toward him. Distracted by his physique, she didn't see the uneven ground before her. Her face met the sand with a painful thud, shells and stones embedding in her cheek. This could have been a moment for him to look away, yet he didn’t. Instead, he rushed to her side, his strong arms gently lifting her as he brushed off the debris, his touch tender on her bleeding face. He spoke, his voice a soothing balm, but her mind couldn’t grasp his words, lost as she was in his piercing gaze.

Just as she was being pulled into his concern, hands tightened around her arms, yanking her back to reality. Before she could protest, Nora’s voice cut through the tension, “Who do you think you are?”

“I’m just a guy helping a fallen angel,” he replied, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Get away from us. She doesn’t need you or want you. Harper has us, and she doesn’t need some smooth-talking guy to sweep her off her feet,” Nora snapped.

“I’m sorry for bothering you. My name is Roman. I assume the bleeding beauty is Harper. Do you ladies have names as well?”

“I’m Nora, and the Victoria's Secret model here is Reagan. You can go pound sand,” Nora retorted, her words sharp.

Roman backed away, his apology hanging in the air. “I’m sorry I offended you. I’ll leave you ladies alone. If you need anything, I’ll be over there trying to prevent the guy in flag shorts from lighting himself on fire,” he said, nodding towards another part of the beach.

As Roman walked away, Harper’s eyes followed him, captivated by the grace in his movements. Why hadn’t she spoken up? All pain seemed trivial when he was near. The reality of her friends pulling her away crashed down on her, a harsh return to the moment.

“Harper, are you okay?” Nora’s voice broke through her reverie.

“Where did he go?”

“You don’t want a strange guy touching you. We don’t know where he’s been. Plus, he is far too good-looking to be interested in you,” Nora chided.

“What’s gotten into you? That’s pretty harsh,” Reagan interjected.

“That's not the point. We don't know him. He isn’t a local,” Nora replied, firm in her stance.

“He was touching me and seemed pretty concerned. I don’t think he could have been that bad,” Harper countered, her voice soft yet pained.

“He wants to hump and dump you. That’s all. Get your mind off him,” Nora stated bluntly.

Harper looked down, furrowing her brow, torn between the warning and her own intuition. “Okay,” she conceded, disappointment threading through her words.

“Let’s wash this stuff off your face. Good thing there's plenty of salt water,” Reagan suggested, leading her towards the ocean.

The salty breeze tingled against her skin as they approached the water, the tide coaxing them to wade deeper. They embraced the chill, stepping into the frigid waves. Once knee-deep, Reagan gently splashed water on Harper’s face, washing away the remnants of her fall. The sand washed off, revealing a small cut by her eyebrow, the redness stark against her pale skin.

“It's not nearly as bad as I thought it would be. No bruises, luckily. If you want, I can give you bangs to cover the cut,” Reagan offered, her tone light.

“Thank you. I might take you up on that. Just want to see how it looks in the morning. My pride hurts more than the cut. How could I be so clumsy?” Harper mused, a small smile flickering across her face.

“It’s okay, we all have those moments. Let's head back, this water is freezing,” Reagan chuckled, leading the way back to shore.

Even though it was only June, the water felt like ice, typical for Maine where the ocean only warmed slightly by August before turning cold again. “You’re right,” Harper agreed as they retreated from the chilly water. “He was cute, wasn’t he?”

“Very cute. I think he likes you,” Reagan mused, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Not anymore. Nora forced him away. Why do you think she did that?” Harper asked, her curiosity piqued.

“I don’t know, but she’s been acting strange lately. It all started at Nate’s New Year’s Eve party. I don’t know what happened,” Reagan replied, her tone thoughtful.

“She wasn’t invited.”

“Oh, but she came with us,” Harper remembered.

“Nate didn’t want her there, and she came anyway. I don’t know all the details, but we ought to find out. Let’s save that adventure for another day. I’m ready to go home,” Reagan decided, setting the pace for their return.