Around the end of June

Alyssa's PoV:

"Can you please hurry up?" Aiden's exasperated voice echoed from downstairs as I wrestled with the zipper on my overstuffed suitcase. I planted both knees on top of it, using every ounce of strength I had to force it shut.

"I'm almost done!" I called back, gritting my teeth.

"You're a nightmare," he muttered, loud enough for me to hear.

As the zipper finally slid into place with a satisfying click, I grabbed my sunglasses and backpack, hoisting the unwieldy suitcase upright. Balancing it on the stairs was another story. Each step creaked under its weight as I half-carried, half-dragged it down.

"Everyone's waiting for you," Aiden snapped, arms crossed as he stood at the bottom of the staircase. His impatience was almost palpable.

"Maybe if you're in such a rush, you could help," I shot back.

He rolled his eyes but trudged up a few steps to grab the suitcase, effortlessly lifting it like it was nothing. I followed him, smug at my tiny victory.

"Do you have everything?" he asked, his tone leaving little room for argument.

I nodded.

Aiden slammed the door behind us, locking up before hauling my suitcase to Mason's black Jeep Wrangler parked in the driveway. It was packed to the brim with duffle bags, coolers, and random beach gear, as if they were moving in for a year, not three weeks.

"ALYLILI!" Luke yelled, leaning halfway out of the car window with an exaggerated wave. His goofy grin was infectious, but I wasn't in the mood.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his enthusiasm nearly blinding.

"So ready," I replied, monotone, climbing into the back of the Jeep. With all the luggage stacked around me, it felt like I was being stuffed into a glorified storage unit.

"Sorry about the space," Cameron said apologetically, flashing a sheepish smile.

"Sure..." I muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

Aiden got in, and the guys let out a loud cheer, as if we'd won a championship. Luke and Jaden immediately cranked up the music, singing off-key to every Gaga hit on the playlist. By the time we arrived, I'd endured three hours of their wailing, interrupted only by Cameron's questionable jokes and Jaden's random facts no one asked for.

The Jeep pulled up to Mason's beach house, and my jaw dropped despite myself. The place was massive-towering walls of pristine white stone, sprawling windows that gleamed in the sunlight, and a porch that looked like it belonged in a magazine spread.

"Let's go!" Cameron clapped his hands once as we parked.

The guys leapt out with the energy of caffeinated toddlers, grabbing their bags and sprinting toward the house like it might disappear if they didn't get there fast enough. I, however, was stuck untangling myself from the fortress of luggage in the backseat.

Mason appeared in the doorway, a smirk already plastered on his face.

"Hey, shortcake," he called.

I groaned, glaring at him as I wrestled with my suitcase. "Bring my suitcase, yeah?"

"You bring it!" I shot back, narrowing my eyes.

"You're closer," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Think of it as a thank-you for letting you stay here."

"I didn't ask to come. This is torture."

"What was that?" he asked, cupping his hand to his ear like he hadn't heard me.

"Nothing."

I hauled the suitcase out and trudged toward the house, already regretting every second of this trip. The inside was as extravagant as the outside, with high ceilings, sleek furniture, and a color scheme straight out of a Pinterest board.

The chaos began almost immediately.

Luke threw open the floor-to-ceiling windows leading to the deck and yelled, "HERE I GO!" as he sprinted toward the beach.

"Wait!" Cameron called after him, tripping over his half-zipped wetsuit and face-planting onto the floor.

"You're ridiculous," Aiden muttered, flipping through TV channels like his life depended on it.

Jaden was already rummaging through the fridge, mumbling about ingredients, which made my stomach churn. His cooking skills left a lot to be desired.

Meanwhile, Mason leaned casually against the hallway, grinning as he watched me struggle with his suitcase.

"Thanks, shortcake," he said smugly.

"I hate you," I muttered, giving his suitcase a shove with my foot. It rolled to a stop at his feet.

"We should pick rooms," Jaden suggested, popping his head out of the kitchen.

"Same as last year?" Cameron asked, finally standing upright in his surf suit.

"Fine with me," Jaden said.

"Sure," Aiden added distractedly.

"What about Alyssa?" Cameron asked, glancing at me.

"She can stay downstairs," Mason said without hesitation, disappearing into his room.

"And that is...?" I prompted, hoping for some clarification.

Jaden pointed down the hallway. I trudged over, finding two doors on either side. One room was airy and beachy, with soft beige tones and crisp white linens. The other was darker, with a rustic vibe that somehow felt cozier. Sunlight poured through the massive windows, which opened directly onto the beach.

Before I could decide, Mason appeared behind me.

"Not that one," he said, steering me away from the darker room and pointing to the bright one.

"Why?"

"Because I said so. Stay far away from it."

I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath, "Whatever."

I dumped my suitcase onto the bed and started unpacking, trying to make the place feel less like a prison cell. This was going to be a long three weeks.

From downstairs, I could already hear the chaos escalating-Luke yelling something unintelligible, Cameron tripping over furniture, and Jaden shouting about how to properly dice an onion.

And then there was Mason, somewhere nearby, likely plotting his next round of torment.

"Welcome to hell," I muttered to myself, shaking my head.

Three weeks. What could possibly go wrong?

... everything, I think.

They are boys which means they are not organized, awful at thinking, terrible at cleaning, and pretty bad at anything else that does not involve football and beer.

Maybe I am being a bit too negative but some may call realistic.

Once I finished unpacking I walked away from the room

I realized they all gone to the beach already, as i looked at them through the big windows of the kitchen looking like a bunch of toodles, surfing and screaming and doing god knows what Luke is doing on top of that board. I went to the kitchen to check what I would eat because it was out of the question to eat Jaden's cooking. Specially is infamous mac and cheese-which he insisted was his specialty-still haunted me. Just remembering its gluey texture and charred edges made my stomach churn...Just thinking about it gives me chills.

The kitchen was a sprawling, modern space with white marble countertops and appliances so sleek they looked like they belonged in a tech ad. I opened the fridge looking for something, it wasn't that better either. Actually it screamed how rich Mason was. it was filled with a lots of things that, knowing him, he probably demanded someone to do

"Anything good?" Jaden asked, appearing suddenly beside me. He was shirtless, his hair still damp from earlier, and carrying a surfboard under his arm like it was a fashion accessory.

"Nope," I said flatly, grabbing a soda.

"There are things to make my mac and cheese" he said, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated smile and looking inside the fridge as I closed it .

"I bet they are"

Jaden nodded, all happy.

By the time the others came back from the beach, the house was already descending into its usual state of chaos. Luke was dripping wet as he stomped across the living room, leaving sandy footprints everywhere. Cameron was loudly recounting some wipeout Jaden had, complete with dramatic sound effects. Jaden, of course, denied it all, calling Cameron an "overly excited toddler."

I sat on the edge of the couch, drinking my soda and watching the madness unfold while surfing the channels. Aiden, who was the first to take a shower appeared into view.

"Why is there sand on the couch?" he demanded, glaring at Luke, as if the answer was too obvious

"Why is your face always so angry?" Luke shot back, grinning as he threw himself onto the couch-sand and all. Making me feel disgusted.

"Luke, I swear-"

"Okay, children," Mason interrupted, walking into the room and flopping onto the chair across from me. "Let's not start World War III before dinner."

"And what exactly is for dinner?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

Jaden grinned. "Mac and-"

"No." We all said in unison

"Pizza, then?" Cameron suggested, pulling a soggy piece of seaweed out of his hair.

"Perfect" I said, relieved.

When Cameron suggested making pizza, I thought it would involve ordering a pie or two, not everyone making their own personal creations. It turned out that "do-it-yourself pizza night" was apparently a cherished tradition for these boys-a messy, chaotic, and utterly disastrous tradition.

After Luke was forced to mop up the trail of sand and water he'd left throughout the house (thanks to Aiden's barking orders), the kitchen turned into ground zero for what could only be described as culinary warfare.

The initial setup had been surprisingly calm-flour dusted neatly on the counter, bowls of tomato sauce, cheese, and toppings lined up in an orderly fashion. I almost started to think, Wow, maybe they're not complete disasters.

That illusion shattered about ten minutes later.

"Stop it!" Cameron's voice rang out, sharp and frustrated. I turned just in time to see Luke wiggling a long, floppy slice of cheese in front of Cameron's face like it was some kind of taunt.

"Why?" Luke teased, grinning. "You getting mad?"

"Luke, I'm serious!"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because Luke immediately slapped the cheese slice onto Cameron's face. It stuck there with a gross squelch.

The room went still. Everyone froze, watching for Cameron's reaction. He peeled the cheese off his face slowly, his expression unreadable. For a split second, I thought he was going to let it slide.

Nope.

Cameron grabbed a spoonful of tomato sauce from the nearest bowl and flung it across the counter. It hit Luke square in the face, red sauce dripping down his nose.

"Oh, you did NOT!" Luke bellowed.

With a maniacal grin, he lunged for the bag of flour and hurled it toward Cameron. Unfortunately for Jaden, who had been minding his own business, the flour exploded all over him instead.

"LUKE!" Jaden yelled, now looking like a deranged clown covered in white powder.

I couldn't help it-I snorted, trying to stifle my laughter.

"Alright, enough!" Aiden's voice cut through the madness, sharp and authoritative. "Act your age, guys!"

For a brief moment, it looked like they were going to listen. But then Luke and Cameron exchanged glances-grins forming slowly on their faces.

"Don't even think about it," Aiden warned.

They thought about it.

Within seconds, ingredients were flying across the kitchen. Flour, tomato sauce, shredded cheese, pepperoni, and even pineapple slices (because Luke insisted pineapple belonged on pizza) were being hurled in every direction.

I ducked down, crouching behind the kitchen island for cover. If I was going to survive this food war, I needed a strategy-and that strategy involved staying out of the crossfire.

While hiding, I found a bowl of olives within reach and decided to make the most of the chaos by snacking.

"So... not a fan of food wars?"

I jumped slightly at the voice beside me. Turning, I saw Mason crouched down on the floor, mirroring my position. He had a smug grin on his face, a piece of cheese dangling from his hair.

"Not at all," I said, popping an olive into my mouth.

"That's so boring."

"I don't like ruining food."

"Fair point." He nodded thoughtfully, as if I'd just made a groundbreaking philosophical argument.

Then, without warning, he swiped a handful of flour and gently patted it onto my nose.

I blinked, stunned by the sudden cold, powdery sensation. "Mason!"

"Live a little, shortcake," he teased, laughing as I wiped my face.

"Oh, you're so dead." I said fiercly getting up and going after him.

By the time the food fight finally ended, the kitchen looked like a war zone. Flour coated every surface, tomato sauce dripped from the cabinets, and cheese was stuck in the strangest places-like the ceiling fan.

Aiden stood in the middle of the carnage, his jaw clenched and his arms crossed. "Do you guys have any idea how long this is going to take to clean up?"

"Totally worth it," Luke said, still laughing as he tried to pull a piece of pepperoni out of his hair.

"Not it," Jaden said quickly, holding up his hands.

"Not it," Cameron chimed in.

Aiden groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was questioning every decision that had led to this moment. "Fine. Everyone's cleaning."

"But-"

"Everyone."

Even Mason, who had somehow avoided getting too messy, was dragged into the cleanup effort. As I grabbed a mop and started scrubbing tomato sauce off the floor, I shot him a glare.

"This is your fault," I muttered to him so no one would hear.

"My fault?" he repeated whispering back at me, feigning innocence. "You were the one hiding with the olives while I heroically defended us from chaos."

"Heroically?" I rolled my eyes.

He smirked, leaning on his mop. "You know you had fun, shortcake."

"I hate you" I mumbled