The air was heavy, thick with salt and heat, the kind of summer night that clung to your skin. It was the final day of the Summer Beach Feast, and for me, the end of an era. College was a week away. Everything I knew was about to change.
Devin and Sophie were at my side, both buzzing with excitement. I hadn't seen them much this summer—too busy drowning in responsibilities.
"You guys ready? Last day always blows the roof off," Sophie grinned, her eyes sparkling.
I swallowed hard, forcing a laugh. "Yeah. Totally."
We drifted past food stalls glowing under strings of lights until we stopped for slushies. I was halfway through mine when I saw her.
She wasn't like anyone else here.
A ripped graphic tee clung to her frame, faded denim hanging off her hips, tattoos etched across her skin like whispered secrets. Her hair brushed her shoulders in soft waves, but it was her eyes that pinned me in place—one gray, one green. Piercing. Unsettling. Impossible to look away from.
She turned, and for a heartbeat, our gazes locked. My chest tightened, heat curling low in my stomach before I could stop it.
Then Sophie's fist landed on my arm. "Quit drooling. The last set's about to start."
The crowd pressed in, bodies swaying as the DJ lit the stage on fire. Beats pounded through the sand, neon lights washing everyone in electric color. Devin whooped, Sophie jumped in rhythm, but I was only half-there. My eyes kept searching.
And then—I found her again.
Closer this time.
She wasn't dancing, not like the others. She just stood, watching, her lips curved in a faint smile, her mismatched eyes catching the light. She tilted her head, slow, deliberate, and when her gaze slid over me again, I swear I felt it—like her eyes were hands, stripping me bare in the middle of the crowd.
My throat went dry.
Then she smiled, shy but knowing, and lifted her hand in a small wave.
Just before I could move, the DJ shouted into the mic, "Thank you, SBF 2019! This is a night we'll never forget!" The music cut, the crowd roared, and I stood frozen, staring after the mystery girl who had already stolen my attention—and maybe something more.
I stayed back with Devin as the crowd emptied into the parking lot to head home. Sophie disappeared into the sea of people, probably too exhausted from keeping us in line all day.
About ten minutes later, the festival grounds were nearly deserted. Only the hum of the last generators and the crash of waves filled the silence as we trailed behind the final group.
That's when I heard it.
A voice—sweet, warm, and melodic—slipped into the night air.
"Hey… did you drop this?"
I froze. My pulse spiked before I even turned.
She stood a few feet behind me, illuminated by the fading glow of neon signs. The girl. Her.
In her hand was a small festival wristband, torn and dangling from her fingers. It wasn't mine. But God, I wished it was.
I managed a shaky laugh. "Uh… no, not mine."
She tilted her head, mismatched eyes catching the faint light—one green, one gray—and studied me in a way that made my chest tighten. "Guess it's yours now," she said, stepping closer and pressing it into my hand.
Her fingers brushed against mine, just for a second, but the spark it sent through me was instant, dangerous.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. "Thanks."
She smiled, a slow, knowing curve of her lips. "Don't mention it."
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Devin coughed awkwardly behind me, muttering something about the car, but I barely heard him. All I could focus on was her—the heat rolling off her presence, the faint scent of smoke, and something sweet lingering around her.
"See you around… college boy," she said softly, as if she already knew me.
And then she was gone, slipping into the night before I could ask her name.
Later that night, after dropping Devin off at his house, I barely had time to crash into bed before my phone buzzed.
3:00 a.m.
Sophie's name lit up my screen.
She sounded… wide awake. Almost too awake. "We need to catch up. Just us," she said, voice bright like the middle of the afternoon, not the dead of night.
I frowned, rubbing my eyes. "Didn't we just spend the whole day together? And I thought you were tired."
"Please. Ten minutes. Then you can leave."
I sighed, already knowing I wasn't going to win. Fine, I'll use the 'I'm tired' excuse if it drags on.
By the time I reached Sophie's house, the neighborhood was silent. I barely lifted my hand to knock before the door swung open and Sophie grabbed my arm, pulling me inside.
"Shhh, everyone's asleep," she whispered, finger pressed to her lips.
I gave her a look. "Why can't we do this tomorrow? It's late."
Two minutes in and I'd already used my get-out-of-jail-free card. She didn't answer—just tugged me down the hallway and into her room.
Suddenly, she pushed me onto the bed and sat down beside me, locking eyes like she was daring me to say something.
I waved my hand in her face, half laughing. "Uh… Sophie, what are you—"
Before I could finish, she launched at me, fingers digging into my sides. I burst into laughter, thrashing. "No—stop—don't go for the ribs!"
Her own laughter rang out, breathless. "No, don't go! I'm sorry!" she teased, finally pulling back, her long black hair falling into her face, blue eyes wide and playful.
"You're seriously going to hit me with the puppy-dog face?" I groaned, rolling away from her. "Stop it. I can't."
I stood and headed for the door, but before I could turn the handle, she tugged my shirt. Her voice softened, almost breaking. "Can we still talk? Please? I miss you."
I froze, then sighed, shrugging. "Fine."
Back on the bed, Sophie grabbed a couple of sodas from her mini-fridge and sat across from me. For a long moment we just stared at each other—silent—before both bursting into laughter.
The next hour disappeared as we traded stories about everything we'd missed since graduation. Her laughter, her teasing, the way her eyes lit up when she talked—it felt like old times. Familiar. Comforting.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged us under.
When I woke, the room was drenched in soft morning light—and Sophie's arm was wrapped snug around my chest. Carefully, I slipped out of bed, scribbled a quick note, and left it on her nightstand before heading out.
On the way home, I called Devin.
He didn't even let me finish explaining before he jumped in. "Not gonna lie, dude, but I think she likes you. Just think about it—she called you at three in the morning, practically straddled you in her underwear to tickle you, and got upset when you mentioned that other girl. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You don't get it. I used to like her, yeah, but she dated someone else. And she always said I was like a brother."
"Well," Devin said in his detective-voice, "sounds like that changed."
"Not helping," I muttered, hanging up