The Summer I met the Jonas Brothers

“Okay, why do I have a feeling this summer is going to be different from all the other summers we’ve experienced here in Texas?” My sister, Mia, rested her hands on her waist as she stared ahead. The beach was only a few miles from our beach house, where Mum, Mia, and I had returned from New York to spend the summer. It was supposed to be our usual tradition, warm sand beneath our feet, the salty breeze brushing against our faces, the sun tanning our skin, and absolutely no responsibilities for the next few weeks. Well… that was the plan. Mia was already making the most of it. She suddenly performed a cartwheel on the sand, her black hair flying wildly around her face as I squinted against the harsh Texas sun. I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Mia. This is definitely going to be the most boring holiday of my life. I already miss my friends.” She stopped mid-step and turned toward me. “Nara Mora Sora.” I groaned the moment she said my three names. Nara was my real name. Mora was the name my best friends had given me because they swore it suited me. According to them, it sounded as beautiful as the golden waves of hair that fell over my shoulders. Sora, however, had been given to me by my ex-boyfriend. Jude. The boy who had once been my entire world. We’d been sharing a drink one afternoon when he’d looked at me and casually declared that Sora was the perfect name for me. I’d laughed at him then, but I’d loved it because it had come from him. Jude had been everything to me. He had the kind of face girls automatically turned to stare at. Dark-brown tousled hair, golden skin, a ridiculously hot body, and grey eyes that could make anyone forget what they were saying. We had kissed. We had promised each other forever. And then I found out my forever had an expiration date. My best friends had been the ones to tell me about his relationship with an older woman. I confronted him. Secretly, stupidly, desperately, I’d hoped he would deny it. I wanted him to look shocked. I wanted him to laugh and tell me it was all some horrible misunderstanding. He didn’t. Jude had looked directly into my eyes and confessed that he loved the thirty-eight-year-old woman. The woman who already had two children. The woman who was now carrying his child. I had slapped him so hard my palm had stung for hours. Then I’d given him the middle finger before walking away. That was the end. The end of the sweet romance I had foolishly believed would last forever. God, I had been stupid. “Nara!” Mia’s voice pulled me back to reality. “Why don’t you ever have anything positive to say? You’re always so negative.” She huffed and started walking back toward the house. I stared after her. “Mia!” She didn’t turn around. “Why do you keep using that last name? I’m no longer with Jude! Use my first name instead!” She stopped. Slowly, she turned around and began walking backward toward me. “That wasn’t what you said five months ago when I told you how weird it was.” I frowned. She folded her arms and mimicked my voice perfectly. “No, I think it’s cute, and you must respect that.” I narrowed my eyes. Mia smirked. Then she turned around and slammed the door so hard the sound echoed across the beach house. “I am still older than you!” I shouted after her. Nothing. “You get offended over the smallest things!” Still nothing. I sighed. I was older than Mia by two years and three months, although anyone looking at us might have guessed otherwise. I had an average height, long blonde hair, a round face, naturally red lips, brown eyes, and a lean body. I was lucky. My friends constantly reminded me of that. I didn’t have to spend hours at the gym or starve myself to maintain a flat stomach and slim waist. I simply had it. Perfect, they’d say. Or maybe everyone who looked at me had convinced me I was. I glanced toward the house again. Maybe I really had ruined her mood. Mia and I had dressed in our bikinis with plans to spend the afternoon at the beach together. Although, if I were being honest, I didn’t understand what was supposed to be fun about sitting around staring at the ocean. “Hey, Gummy!” I walked toward the house. “Are you actually angry with me? Did I ruin your mood? I thought we were supposed to go to the beach together, sit our asses down, and stare at nothing but the ocean.” I muttered the last part under my breath. “I still don’t understand what’s so fun about that.” The beach house stood tall against the shore, the wooden exterior giving it a charming coastal appearance despite its luxurious furnishings. Wide glass windows stretched across the walls, allowing sunlight to flood the rooms, while a broad veranda overlooked the ocean. I walked toward one of the open windows. “Mia?” Her voice finally came from inside. “You go. I’ll come later. I’ve lost my mood to walk down there now.” Her voice sounded uninterested. “Your energy is draining my spirit. Goodbye.” I could practically picture her dropping onto the sofa with her legs crossed, phone in hand, completely determined to ignore me. I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” Mum had already left earlier to visit some of her college friends who still lived in Texas and had built families there. So much for family bonding. I grabbed the rolled-up beach mat and headed toward the shore alone. Barefoot, I walked through the warm sand, letting it slip between my toes. Low-key, I loved the feeling. Under one arm was the mat we’d planned to spread near the seaside. Apparently, I was the only one who would be using it. In my other hand was a blue beach bag containing a few apples and three bottles of water. I got thirsty easily whenever I spent time staring at the ocean. Sometimes I could drink five bottles of water in one sitting. As I drew closer to the beach, the sound of crashing waves grew louder. The breeze rushed toward me, lifting my hair and brushing it across my face. I squinted into the sunlight. People were everywhere. Families. Couples. Groups of teenagers. Children running through the sand. It looked almost exactly like last summer. And that thought reminded me of the disaster I’d rather forget. Last summer, I’d gotten into a heated argument with a girl after she stepped on my foot and didn’t even bother apologizing. Things had escalated. She’d ripped the band from my hair. I’d retaliated by yanking off her fake eyelashes. I’d never forgotten the look on her face when they came off. After that, I’d avoided the beach until we were ready to return home. And now… Here I was again. Finally, the green-blue ocean came fully into view. The waves danced toward the shore, rising and falling beneath the sunlight. Families chatted beneath umbrellas. Girls laughed. Boys ran along the shoreline. A few people were riding long surfboards, gliding dangerously across the water with impressive speed. Everything was loud. Everything was alive. I blinked. Enough staring, Nara. I searched for a quiet spot. Eventually, I found one slightly away from the crowd. I placed my blue bag carefully onto the sand and spread out the mat. After adjusting it a few times, I finally lay down. I placed the bag beside me and stared toward the water. The sun warmed my skin. The breeze played with my hair. For a few minutes, everything felt peaceful. Then I realized I was thirsty. I reached into the bag for a bottle of water. And that’s when I saw him. A boy was walking toward me. At first, I barely paid attention. He seemed to be searching for something in the sand, occasionally bending down to pick up seashells. Then he straightened. Our eyes met. And my stomach practically dropped into my mouth. He was gorgeous. Deep-brown, tousled hair fell carelessly across his forehead. His brown eyes were warm and striking, and his clean white shirt clung to his broad shoulders. The top buttons were undone, revealing a glimpse of his chest. He wore brown shorts that rested low on his hips. For one horrible second, he reminded me of Jude. And I hated him for it instantly. His face was welcoming, almost gentle. But there was something about the way he looked at me that made my stomach tighten. He walked closer. Then he bent down near my mat. He picked something up from the sand. Slowly, he straightened. His eyes traveled from my legs to my stomach before finally meeting my face. He swallowed. And continued staring. Like he’d never seen a human being before. My irritation rose immediately. I grabbed the bottle of water beside me and threw it at him. He caught it. I hadn’t expected that. I’d wanted it to hit him directly in the head. “p*****t! What are you staring at?” He blinked, seemingly startled back into reality. “Uh… no. I’m not a p*****t. I just…” He stumbled over his words. “I was picking up seashells, and then…” He stopped. I c****d my head. He looked completely lost. God. Even his voice was beautiful. Soft. Almost angelic. But I’d learned my lesson. I was done falling for handsome boys. Nineteen and single. Perfect. No drama. No boyfriend showing up months later to confess he’d been cheating with an older woman. Sometimes I still got angry at Jude. Really? A woman with two children? If she had at least been younger and prettier, maybe I wouldn’t have been so humiliated. But now people around the neighborhood knew my ex-boyfriend was dating a sugar mommy. The embarrassment was unbearable. “Okay, Mister,” I said coldly. “I don’t care if you pick seashells for a living. Just turn around and walk away.” He didn’t move. He simply stared at me. As though he couldn’t trade looking at me for anything else in the world. Then a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes were strangely gentle. “I could give them to you,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind.” My brows lowered. “No. I don’t want your seashells. Leave me alone!” My anger must have been obvious because he immediately looked stunned. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He paused. Then, as though suddenly remembering his manners, he smiled. “By the way, call me Walter.” I was done. I turned my head away. He could stand there for all I cared. Then I noticed something. Girls nearby were staring at him. Whispering. Pointing. A few were even nudging each other excitedly. Was he famous? I’d never seen him before during all my summers in Texas. I looked back at him. Walter was bending down. He placed my bottle of water on the mat and gently rolled it toward me. It stopped beside my blue bag. I looked up. He was already walking away. Then he stopped. He turned his head slightly. And when he spoke, his voice was soft. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in the whole world.” I swallowed. Then watched him walk away. I rolled my eyes. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. But there was an annoying little tug in my chest. I quickly dismissed it. I reached for an apple instead. My fingers brushed against the bottle of water he’d returned. I hesitated. There was still a faint trace of his cologne around it, something warm, fresh, almost coconut-like. I immediately dropped the bottle. Nope. I bit into the red apple instead. But deep down, a tiny voice whispered something I didn’t want to hear. My summer holiday was about to become anything but ordinary. ⸻ Walter was practically running home. A smile kept tugging at his lips as he replayed the image of the girl he’d just met. He had gone to the beach to surf. Surfing was his favorite thing in the world, and he was exceptionally good at it. People often stopped to watch him because of the incredible speed with which he moved across the waves. Sometimes it felt as though the water itself obeyed him. But he’d gotten distracted. Seashells had always fascinated him. So when he’d spotted several beautiful ones scattered across the sand, he’d abandoned his plan to surf for a while and started collecting them. And then he’d seen her. The girl with golden hair. The girl with the sharp tongue. The girl who had thrown a bottle of water at his head. Walter smiled again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him this curious. Eventually, he reached the Jonas family’s beach house. The massive property stood proudly along the coastline, surrounded by manicured tropical gardens and tall palm trees. The modern architecture blended perfectly with the beach, with enormous glass windows, white stone walls, multiple balconies, and a sprawling terrace overlooking the ocean. A private pool shimmered behind the house, while expensive cars rested beneath the covered driveway. Walter walked toward the gates and rang the bell. A minute later, his mother’s face appeared through the entrance window. The gate opened. Walter stepped inside, still holding his surfboard. His mind was nowhere near home. It was still on the beach. With her. He placed the surfboard against the designated rack near the entrance and walked inside. Polished marble floors reflected the crystal lights hanging from the ceiling. The entire house smelled faintly of flowers and citrus. Then he saw his mother. She stood behind the kitchen island, pouring orange juice into a glass. Mrs. Viv was a beautiful woman in her forties, with scarlet-red hair that reached her ears, perfectly polished nails, and a pink crop top paired with comfortable white trousers. She lifted the glass to her lips. “Home early?” She took a sip. “Did you surf today? How was the beach?” Walter smiled. He walked over and sat on one of the tall chairs facing the kitchen island. His mother immediately noticed the expression on his face. “Walter?” She lowered the glass. A knowing smile spread across her lips. “Tell me.” She placed the cup on the polished marble counter and rested her elbows against it, her chin settling into her hands. “What happened?” Walter’s smile widened. “Mum…” She waited. “She has the most amazing eyes.” Mrs. Viv’s eyebrows lifted. “I got lost staring at her.” Her mouth slowly fell open. This was the first time her son had spoken about a girl like this in a very long time. Ever since his ex-girlfriend had broken his heart, Walter had stopped talking about relationships altogether. She had told him she didn’t want someone as gentle as him. She wanted someone different. Someone more like his older brother, Louis. What made it worse was that she had eventually confessed that while dating Walter, she’d been having feelings for Louis. Walter had been devastated. He had loved her deeply. For months, he’d questioned himself, wondering if being kind and gentle had made him less desirable. After that, he’d shut down completely. He never spoke about love. Never spoke about girls. Never showed interest in dating again. And it had secretly terrified his mother. She didn’t want her son to spend his life believing he wasn’t enough. But now… Look at him. He was smiling. Actually smiling. Mrs. Viv couldn’t hide her happiness. “Who is she?” Walter looked down. “Did she introduce herself?” He shook his head. “No.” His hands rested before him, his expression suddenly resembling that of a boy who had finally spoken to his longtime crush. Mrs. Viv frowned. “And why not? Didn’t you ask for her name?” Walter shrugged. His thoughts immediately returned to the beach. To the blonde-haired girl. To her angry eyes. To the bottle of water flying toward his face. To the way she’d told him to leave her alone. A gentle smile touched his lips. “Walter?” His mother called his name again, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked up. “Mum…” “Yes?” Walter took a breath. Then said the words that made his mother’s heart leap. “I think I’m in love.”