Sophia couldn't stop shivering. She wasn't cold. She couldn't be cold. It was humid and sticky and muggy and I was caked in sweat and mud. Her skin was warm against mine, but covered in goosebumps. She wasn't cold, but her hands trembled against my chest like she was, the necklace still clutched between her fingers.

I knew it was stupid to go after it. I knew that. But I heard her shaky voice over the radio when she said she was fine, and any doubts I had went out the window at just the suggestion of her sad face. I took off without a second thought, just knowing I had to find it. I had to. Her voice on the radio—quiet, clipped, trying so damn hard to sound fine—I just knew. I could picture her face, pale and strained. I'd seen that look before, the one she wore when she was trying not to crack open. It made something snap in me. I didn't think. I just went.

I started to regret my decision when the rain started to come down in sheets, the ground beneath me thick with reddish mud and slick rocks that had me skidding and slipping and stumbling down the steep trails. There was a moment when I thought I wouldn't find it. That I'd come out here for nothing, risking my life for a stupid, unrequited crush.

I could hear my mother's voice in my head as I dug through the dirt, vision blurring in the rain. You feel too much, Jacob. Too big. You're going to get yourself in trouble one day. Then my father's, What's the plan now, Jakey boy? I mean, I went out into a mudslide because I thought the girl I liked might possibly be sad? What sort of person does a thing like that?

Still.

I'd found it. I was safe and I had found it.

More importantly, Sophia wasn't devastated. She was alright. Maybe. She was still shivering, and something was... off. She still looked shaken up, and I just— I couldn't quite place it. I was supposed to be able to place it.

Instead, I wrapped my arms tighter around Sophia, pulling her in even though I was gross and muddy and bleeding from where I'd slipped down the hill like an idiot. I probably smelled like the inside of a hiking boot. But she hadn't left my side since I handed it back to her. Not when Maia and Kai found us. Not while I was cleaning up and changing clothes. Not even now, when the sun had dipped low and everyone was gathering on the beach for the bonfire.

Apparently it was a KVE tradition, this bonfire, and now that the storm had passed, plans were on as usual. I didn't think Sophia would want to come, and I expected her to ask me to take her home after I washed up and she softly bandaged my various abrasions (which I admit I took an inordinate amount of pleasure in). C'mon, Sophia's hands all over me, so close I could see her lashes fluttering as she asked me if it hurt? Me playing up the macho hero act and letting her tease me about being a baby? I was in fucking heaven.

And I wouldn't have been mad at all about going home the two of us. Sure, I'd be missing the bonfire, which was going to be fun, but if it meant a night like last night? God. I loved when she needed me too. Not to mention, I could tell she wasn't recovered from losing the necklace, even though she had it back now. She wasn't completely there.

"I'm fine," she kept saying, but I knew better. I watched the way she flinched every time thunder echoed in the distance, even though the storm was long gone. I saw the way she kept clutching the necklace like if she let go, she might lose more than just a piece of jewelry.

So when she told me she wanted to go to the bonfire, I was more than a little surprised.

Now we were sitting in the car, parked outside the beach with everyone else already at the bonfire. My clothes were still damp, my ribs ached from where I'd slipped and hit the rock, I had a cut on my eyebrow, and I could still taste dirt in the back of my throat—but she was okay.

Sort of.

"You sure you're good to go?" I asked again, quiet. "We can stay in the car if you want."

Sophia shook her head, "I keep telling you, Sherlock. I'm—"

"Fine," I finished for her. "I know, I know. It's just—"

"What?" Sophia folded her arms. "You don't believe me?"

No.

"I believe you," I said. "It's just been a long day. That's all." She nodded silently, eyes far away. I bit my lip, "Are you sure—"

Sophia groaned, "Jake. Stop worrying about me. That's my thing, remember?" She sighed around a laugh. "Besides, I should be the one asking you if you're okay to go." Her fingertips reached up, grazing my face. "I'm sorry you got hurt because of me. I still can't believe you did that."

"It's no big deal."

"It's definitely a big deal." Her hand fell, returning to the chain around her neck.

"Randall—"

"I'm good," she said. Her voice cracked, but she straightened. She looked at me, and for a second, I thought maybe she'd say something else—something honest, maybe even something real—but then she just nodded. "Let's go."

And I didn't push her. I didn't say the obvious thing—that I should've been smarter, that it was just a necklace, that she scared the hell out of me when I came back and saw her like that. I just stayed close.

The bonfire was already glowing when we made our way over the dunes. Voices and music drifted in from the shoreline, where everyone had gathered. Maia was dancing barefoot in the sand, waving a drink in one hand and shouting the wrong lyrics to some early-2000s song blasting from Kai's speaker. Aspen was poking the fire with a long stick and telling Ruby a ghost story I'd already heard twice. Stella was laughing too loud, already a little drunk. She locked eyes with me the second we stepped into the firelight and smiled like we shared a secret.

"Hey, look who survived the jungle," Kai called out. "You smell like a swamp, man."

"Thanks, I worked hard on it," I shot back, nudging him as I passed.

"How's the necklace, Soph?" Maia asked, bouncing over. "Did Jake save the day?"

"My hero," she smiled, knocking my arm with hers. Her voice was even, but I could feel her edge from a mile away. She clutched the pendant at her collarbone like it was armor.

"You okay?" Maia dropped her voice, eyes flicking between us.

"Jesus," Sophia let out a breath. "The two of you should put an act together."

"Excuse us for being concerned friends," I huffed.

"Friends," Maia chuckled. "Right." I stepped on her foot. "Ow."

The air smelled like smoke and salt when we sat down around the fire pit, driftwood crackling away. Laughter spilled out in waves—familiar voices, clinking bottles. Sophia sat beside me, cross-legged in the sand, her skin still covered in goosebumps despite the flames in front of us. Maia and Kai were stretched out on a towel a couple feet away, passing a bottle of something that smelled like artificial strawberries. Ruby and Aspen were dancing barefoot near the surf, spinning each other around and shrieking when they almost toppled into the water.

And then there was Stella.

Stella had made a whole show of sitting on the log next to me, flipping her hair over her shoulder like it was an Olympic sport and nudging my elbow every time she said something that was supposed to be funny. I smiled back, polite, distracted.

On my other side, Sophia shivered again, her mouth working in a way that made me certain she was gnawing on the inside of her cheeks.

"Cold?" I asked quietly, letting my feet drag lazily in the damp sand below us.

"No."

"Want my hoodie?" I offered. "It's in the car."

"I'm cold, Jake," Stella said loudly, leaning up against me. I ignored her. Sophia didn't say anything, but I didn't miss the way her jaw tightened.

"You want a drink?" I asked, leaning down.

She looked up at me, those blue eyes unreadable for a second, then nodded once. "Sure." When I stood to go, she surprised me by following. We wound through a mess of beach bags and towels toward the coolers near Kai. He grinned when he saw us, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glassy.

He slapped my shoulder heartily. "You're a legend, dude. I heard you scaled a cliff and punched a tree and—"

"Okay, I definitely didn't punch a tree."

"But you would," Maia said, handing me a can and tossing another to Sophia. "If Sophia asked nicely."

Sophia actually smiled at that, just the faintest twitch of her lips. Maia noticed and raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh my God. Was that—did you just smile? Is that allowed?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Don't get used to it."

Maia looked at me, smirking. "See? She's only scary when she's mad at you." Sophia took a sip of her drink and didn't comment. I stood close to her, shoulder brushing hers, grounding myself in the quiet way she breathed. I could tell she was trying. Trying to be here, trying to feel okay. And maybe I was too.

Someone passed us a bag of marshmallows. Ruby was trying to roast one and ended up setting it on fire. "To the brave and stupid!" she yelled, raising the charred puff of sugar in my direction.

"To Jake!" Aspen chimed in, throwing an arm around Ruby and nearly knocking her into the fire.

"To Jake," Kai echoed. "Protector of jewelry."

"Protector of Sophia, you mean," Maia added under her breath. I could've killed her.

"To Jake," Sophia said softly beside me, and that—that—made the whole ridiculous, muddy, bruised day worth it.

I turned to her. "You sure you're okay being here?"

"I want to be here," she said, and she sounded sure. But she also sounded...off. Distant.

I watched her for a long moment before nodding. "Okay."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. I glanced down, and she caught me.

"It's nothing," she said, pulling it out and pressing the side button until the screen went dark. Then she turned it on silent and shoved it deep into the pocket of her shorts.

"You sure?" I asked, quieter this time.

"I said it's nothing."

The group shifted around us. Someone handed Sophia another drink, and she took it, her and Maia gigging together. We all sat by the fire, letting the warmth and noise fill in the silence between us. I laughed at one of Kai's stupid impressions, felt the tension in my shoulders ease. Stella took the open spot next to me again, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning in just a little too close.

"So," she said, her fingers brushing my arm, "did you actually fight a jaguar out there? Because the way Aspen told it, you basically wrestled a mountain lion for that necklace."

"Oh yeah," I said dryly. "It was very Revenant. I almost didn't make it."

She laughed and touched my shoulder. I didn't move. From across the fire, Sophia was watching. She turned away fast, but not fast enough.

Oh.

She was jealous. It hit me like a punch to the ribs. She could deny it all she wanted, but she felt something. And not just about the necklace. About me. That look on her face—it lit me up like Christmas.

I kept stealing glances at her in the firelight. The necklace was still looped in her fingers, her thumb brushing the pendant like a prayer. Her gaze flicked across the fire, not really landing anywhere—like she was here, but not. Still stuck in the storm. Still back in that moment.

"Come here," I murmured when she wandered past later, brushing sand off her shorts. Stella had gotten up to grab another warm beer.

"Isn't this Stella's spot?"

"Just sit your ass down, Randall," I said, tugging her down to me. Close enough that our knees brushed. Her phone buzzed on the blanket between us. She didn't look at it. Just turned it face-down.

"You miss me or something, Sherlock?"

I grinned, "What if I did?"

Maia came over then, all loose hair and tequila-laced laughter, plopping down beside Sophia with a loud sigh. "You're being boring," she announced. "Come dance."

"There's no music," Sophia said.

"That has never stopped me," Maia replied, already swaying her shoulders to some imagined rhythm. "Kai," she called. "Turn on something that slaps."

Kai, who was deep in conversation with Ruby about the ethics of scuba diving with dolphins, gave her a thumbs-up and began fiddling with the Bluetooth speaker.

"You coming?" Maia asked again.

Sophia shook her head, smiling faintly. "I'm good. My legs are still sore from the hike."

Maia narrowed her eyes. "You just don't want to deal with Stella trying to grind on Jake again."

Sophia's head whipped toward her so fast I could practically hear the crack in her neck.

Maia winked at me. "Sorry, lover boy. Just calling it like I see it."

"I'm going to kill you," Sophia muttered.

"I'll come back for you in ten minutes," Maia warned, already skipping away. "Be ready."

Sophia groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "She's going to make me dance to Bad Bunny, I can feel it."

"I mean," I said, grinning, "you could always just grind on me first and beat Stella to the punch."

That earned me a look. "You're funny."

"You're jealous."

"Not even a little bit."

"You keep glaring at her like you're about to set her on fire with your brain."

"I always glare at people with my brain."

I leaned back on my elbows and smiled at the stars. "It's cute."

She snorted, but didn't argue.

Her phone buzzed again. She didn't look. Just sighed.

I studied her in the firelight. "You don't like it when things don't go according to plan, huh?"

Her breath caught, and she blinked at me. "What?"

"You don't like surprises."

She didn't look at me. "You don't know that."

"I don't?" I arched a brow. "You've had your entire future planned since you were, what, twelve?"

She scoffed. "I like plans. That's not a crime."

"No, but it is a red flag," I teased, nudging her. "All I'm saying is... you've been off since earlier. I know today sucked. You were shaking. You were scared. And I think—I think it wasn't just the rain, or the storm, or losing the necklace. I think it was everything."

She was quiet for a long time, and then she nodded. The music started, low and thumping in the background. Stella let out a dramatic whoop from across the fire. Aspen offered Ruby a drink and Ruby declined. The wind picked up and sand shifted against our ankles.

Your mom. I wanted to say. That necklace was your mom's, wasn't it? But I couldn't. I couldn't. Because I wasn't supposed to know about that.

Instead, I said, "Want to walk with me for a minute?"

She hesitated, then nodded again.

I didn't touch her—not yet—but I led the way down the beach, where the firelight softened and the music faded, and the wind off the ocean gave us a bit of quiet. She walked slowly beside me, eyes on the horizon. Goosebumps still prickled her arms, but she didn't say anything. Neither did I, until we were far enough away that the noise of everyone else became background.

Then I said, "Just so you know, when you said you were fine...I didn't believe you."

She looked down at her shoes, kicking at the sand. "Because I wasn't."

There was silence. Not awkward, just...heavy.

I finally said, "You want to talk about it?"

Her eyes closed, just for a second, and when she opened them again, she looked tired. "I don't usually."

"I know."

"Of course you do," she laughed hoarsely. "But I keep doing that. Saying I'm fine when I'm not. Pretending like I've moved on from stuff when I haven't."

"Like today."

She nodded, slow. I sat down in the sand, and after a moment, she did too. Close enough that our knees touched.

Sophia finally said, "I have it all planned, you know? Right. You do. But— it was everything. My whole day. My whole life." I didn't say anything. Just waited. "When I was little, I used to make these lists," she went on, her voice small and almost embarrassed. "Like—five-year plans. Eight-year plans. Where I'd go to college, where I'd live, what kind of dog I'd get. I had this color-coded binder, Jake. With tabs."

I smiled softly.

"I used to think," she started, then stopped, then started again. "I used to think that if I just kept moving, kept making plans, kept filling my time, then eventually the rest would catch up. That I'd feel okay again."

"And?" I asked.

She didn't answer for a long moment.

"My mom died when I was eight," she bit her lip, swallowing hard. I was holding my breath. "She was in a car accident on her way home from work. It was snowing. Drunk driver. Dead on impact, they said." She recited it almost mechanically. Her fingernails dug into her palm as her fists curled tight. "Abby was fourteen."

I reached for her hand. I felt sick, guilt settling deep in the pit of my stomach. Abby had already told me as much. But hearing it from Sophia— hearing her finally open up— it was too important. I couldn't say anything.

"We were supposed to make cookies that night," Sophia said, a tear trickling down her cheek. "For the bake sale I had at school the next day. That was the plan. But we didn't have all the ingredients. So Mom said she would be a little late back from work because she was stopping at the store. She made a new plan." She took a deep shuddering breath, "She always used to say that to me. We'll just make a new plan, Soph." She sniffed, "She never came home, Jake." Her voice didn't crack—but it was close. "It was her necklace. My mom's. And earlier, when I lost it—"

My chest hurt. Like really hurt.

"I'm sorry," I said. Useless, maybe. But true.

Sophia looked at me, something raw behind her eyes. "Today just... it reminded me. Of all of it. Of how fast things go wrong...When I got back to base and they told me you were—"

"Hey," I covered my hands over hers, drawing her nearer. "I'm fine."

Sophia looked at me then. Her eyes were huge and glossy and dark in the firelight. "She died, Jake. And it wasn't fine. And I was mad at her, just like I was with you when I said I could do the hike by myself. I was upset because we were supposed to buy the ingredients the day before. I was upset at her for not following the plan."

My throat tightened. "Sophia—"

"You were out there in the storm, no one had heard from you, and suddenly it was like—like I was eight years old waiting for her to come home but she never did and I was so scared and it wasn't in the plan and—" Her voice broke. "She never came back."

"But I came back, Sophia," I squeezed her hand. "I came back."

"You came back." She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"Because I asked." She blinked at me again. "And because you trust me," I added. Sophia sighed. I waited for her to pull away from me. But she didn't.

Sophia had been quiet for a while. I didn't say anything at first, but the silence started to stretch too long.

"You're quiet," I said, softer than I meant to.

"Sorry." She blinked like I'd pulled her out of something.

"Don't be." A beat passed, but I didn't move. Neither did she.

"I was just thinking," she said eventually. "About today. About the necklace. About..." She trailed off, and I waited. "You didn't have to go back for it," she said. "But you did."

"Of course I did."

"No, Jake. I mean... you didn't have to. You barely know me—"

"Is that what you think?"

She looked down, "No. But still." Her gaze found mine. There was this sort of soft intensity in it, like she was trying to say something without pushing too hard. "It meant a lot," she said. "More than you probably realize."

I shrugged, eyes dropping to the sand between my fingers. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Stop saying that."

I almost left it at that, but something about the way she was looking at me made me say more than I meant to.

"My mom used to say I felt things too much," I said. "That my feelings were too big. That I'd get in trouble because of it. And I did, sometimes. I do."

Her expression didn't shift, but she was listening. I could feel it.

"She'd always said I was so smart, that I could be just like her if I'd just stop letting emotions get in the way." I rubbed the back of my neck. "My dad... he's the opposite. Loud, passionate, hotheaded. He doesn't stop to think—he just does. He blows up at people and doesn't apologize. My mom's logical. Controlled. Cold, sometimes. So I guess I ended up being the mess in the middle."

She didn't laugh. Didn't try to contradict me.

"I think it's good to have big feelings," she said quietly. "To care that much. Most people don't."

I looked at her then, and something tugged in my chest. "It doesn't feel like a good thing most of the time."

"Well, I think it is," she said. "I think you were the only one who could've understood why that necklace mattered. And the fact that you actually went back for it? That you risked all that—" She shook her head. "It's not just that you cared. It's that you acted on it. That's what made it mean something."

I didn't know what to say to that.

"You're not too much," she added. "You're exactly right."

And the way she said it—soft, sincere, almost reverent—it hit me harder than I expected.

I didn't move. Neither did she. But I was aware of how close she was. How easy it would be to reach for her hand. Or to tell her something that had been sitting in my chest since that first day on the plane.

"So what else?" She finally said.

"What else?"

"C'mon, it's still your turn," she nodded. "It's only fair. And don't you dare tell me you don't have anything else you need to share because completely unburdened people don't have an issue picking a college."

Well, she had me there. I stared out at the ocean for a beat. "So my polar opposite parents are divorced. Obviously."

"Right."

"Yeah, I don't really like to think about it."

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "Because I'm pissed at both of them. Because I don't want to pick sides. Because I miss my mom so much it makes me sick sometimes, but I'm also mad at her for leaving. Because my dad and I barely talk unless it's about football or school, and even then, he acts like I'm just...a disappointment he hasn't figured out how to say out loud yet."

Sophia's hand found mine again. Just like that. No warning.

I looked down at our fingers, then back at her.

"It's not like I wish my parents were back together or anything— they made each other miserable, but now they kind of just make me...miserable. I think I told you my mom's from Chelsea," I said. "She moved back after the divorce, and I stayed in Boston with my Dad 'cause of football, and nothing really feels right anymore. She has a new husband, and they live together with his daughter. They're both great, and I'm happy for her, don't get me wrong, it's just.... "

"You miss England, don't you?" she asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard.

"I do," I said. "Not the weather, obviously. But... yeah. My mom's there. And when I was little, we went every summer."

"So...Cambridge?"

"It's chemistry. It's what she wants. And I don't think I could do that to my dad," I swallowed. "As much as I hate living with him."

Sophia turned to me, eyebrows raised. "You don't get along with him?"

"Not even a little. I mean, I try, but he has this whole picture in his head of who I'm supposed to be." I shook my head, "Honestly, they both have an idea of who I'm supposed to be. And I'm not it."

She was quiet a moment. "That sounds... hard."

I shrugged. "I got used to it."

"I haven't," she said softly. "Gotten used to it, I mean. To being without her."

I didn't have to ask who she meant.

"Sometimes I catch myself wanting to tell her something and I just—forget. I still forget she's not there to answer." She stopped. Shook her head. Blinked too fast. "I don't talk about this with anyone," she whispered. "Not my friends. My grandma. I don't even talk to Abby about it." Her fingers tightened around mine. "I don't know how you do that."

"Do what?"

"Make me say things I've never said out loud."

"Yeah, well." I smiled teasingly, aiming for a joke. "I'm not just anyone."

She didn't laugh. Just looked at me for a long time, her voice soft. Then, she smiled. Not the big one. Not the fake one. The soft, real one that made my ribs ache. "No. You're not."

I felt something shift in the air between us. I wasn't sure what it was—only that it was real, and fragile, and it made my heart beat too loud.

I leaned closer. Our fingers had linked and now I couldn't imagine letting go. Her hand stayed in mine. The ocean moved behind us, soft and rhythmic. Her face was so close. I could see every freckle, the way her hair curled damp at the edges. She looked up at me, eyes so wide and clear it nearly killed me. We were leaning in, breath shared between us, noses nearly brushing.

"Sophia," I whispered.

She didn't look away. "Hm?"

"You know how much you mean to me, right?"

Her eyes flicked to my lips and then back to my eyes. I leaned closer. She didn't move.

Our hands were still joined. Our knees were still touching. Our faces were—

Leaning in.

Closer.

Closer—And just when I thought—this is it, just when her breath hitched and our foreheads almost touched—

"Soph?"

IM BACK ICONS
LOOK AT ME GOOOOOOOO

i might disappear again tbh

I don't know

 I don't know 

but like tell me your thoughts and feeling and please pretty please comment the house down and tell me you're proud of me

ALSO
okay cliffhanger

who is it who is it

maybe there's a clue in the last chapterrrrrrr

xxxxxx,

colleen

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