The town of Wilmont Bay looked like it had been dipped in honey and slow-baked in time. Sand covered the corners of cracked sidewalks. The air was filled with salt and nostalgia, like it remembered everything you want to forget. It was the kind of place people escaped to or from for piece.
Levi Carter sat slouched in the front seat of his uncle's rusty blue pickup, headphones on, one foot tapping restlessly against the floorboard. The buzzing guitar of some 90s alt-rock band tried to kill the silence between him and his uncle, but it didn't work work a bit.
Nothing drowned silence here. It clung to you like sweat.
"You'll get used to it," Uncle Roy mumbled, eyes on the road. "Small town, but it grows on you."
Levi looked out the window. The ocean endlessly waves, the sun bleeding into it like someone had cracked open an egg over the endless horizon. He hated how beautiful it was. It made everything he was running from feel further away and closer, all at once.
"I'm not staying long," Levi said.
His uncle didn't answer. Just turned down the next street, gravel crunching under the tires as they pulled up to a faded white house with warped steps and a porch swing that moved slightly even without wind.
Levi came down, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. The air smelled like seaweed, barbecue smoke, and change.
The next morning, the beach was already alive.
Seagulls screamed over melting ice cream cones. Kids built sandcastles. And tourists, bright-skinned and blinking, moving with cameras around their necks. Levi sat on a sun-bleached lifeguard tower alone, legs dangling, hoodie up even in the July heat.
He didn't like crowds. He didn't like attention. And he sure as hell didn't like pretending he was fine.
A skateboard leaned beside him, its grip tape scarred and peeling like a war veteran. He ran a hand through his mess of dark curls and lit a cigarette, ignoring the judgmental looks from a mom with two toddlers.
That's when he saw her.
She was sitting cross-legged at the far end of the wooden pier, her back to the world. A canvas rested on her knees, and her hand moved in slow, deliberate strokes. She wore headphones the big, retro kind, and a faded red hoodie that swallowed her frame. Her hair was a tangle of soft curls caught in the wind.
She didn't look up. She didn't look around.
She looked...free.
Levi watched her like a secret he hadn't meant to find.
Later that day, Levi found himself wandering the boardwalk, pushing his skateboard lazily with one foot. Shops sold saltwater taffy, postcards, and bad decisions. Music drifted from open windows. Everything felt like summer, except him.
He passed the pier again.
She was still there. Still painting.
Curiosity tugged at him. Or maybe loneliness.
He kicked off and rolled down the length of the pier until he was close enough to speak but didn't.
She noticed him. Lifted her eyes for the first time.
They were green. Not the fake emerald kind, but stormy and deep, the kind of eyes that could make you confess something just by looking into them.
"You're standing in my light," she said, with a calm voice , like a wave that didn't care if it pulled you under.
Levi blinked. "Sorry. Just… watching."
She tilted her head slightly, studying him like he was part of the scene. "You always watch people without saying anything?"
"Only when they look like they're painting the apocalypse."
She smirked. "It's a sunset."
"Looks like it's on fire."
"Maybe it is."
She turned her attention back to the canvas. Levi lingered.
"I'm Levi," he offered.
"Jade," she replied without looking.
Silence again. But this one felt...full.
Later that night, Levi lay on his creaky twin bed, staring at the ceiling fan slicing the darkness with a book on his chest. WHILE thinking of his brother's accident
He came to Wilmont Bay because his mother didn't know what to do with him anymore. Not after the fights. Not after the suspension. Not after the accident.
His brother's face flashed across his mind , and he rolled over fast, willing it away.
But Jade's face lingered longer.
Over the next few days, they became... something. Not friends, not strangers. Something in between.
They never planned to meet, but they always ended up in the same places — the pier, the diner, the beach at night. She'd paint. He'd talk. Or sometimes the other way around.
He learned she lived with her older sister in a tiny apartment above the bookstore. That she hated pizza but loved black licorice. That she collected old postcards from places she'd never been.
She learned he once broke his arm skating down a church rooftop in the rain. That he hated mornings but loved thunderstorms. That he had a scar on his chest from trying to save someone and failing.
Neither of them talked about why they were really in Wilmont Bay.
But the truth always waits.
One evening, the sun went behind clouds and the sky turned bruised purple, Levi found Jade lying on the beach sands, eyes closed, arms flung out like she was trying to hold the sky.
He lay down beside her.
"You think people know when they're living the best part of their life?" he asked.
She opened one eye. "No. I think they realize it after it's over."
Levi swallowed hard. "I'm not broken. I'm tired of pretending."
She turned her head to face him. "Maybe you're not broken. Maybe you're just... cracked open."
He didn't answer. The waves did, whispering and pulling at the shore like they were trying to take something back.
The next day, Jade didn't show up at the pier.
Not the one after, either.
Levi waited. Skated circles around town. Checked the bookstore.
No sign of her.
On the third day, she appeared, hair damp, eyes glassy. She looked thinner. Paler.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Just… tired."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"No," she said softly. "But... do you want to walk with me?"
They walked in silence.
He didn't push.
She didn't explain.
But somehow, they both understood:
Summer doesn't last forever.
And some hearts don't either.
[End of Chapter One]