IT WAS THE FIRST DAY OF SUMMER BREAK— that meant we had 2 hours to get to the beach house before Susannah and The Concland's mother had an aneurysm on where their kids were. 

Christopher let out an uncomfortable groan. "Why are we here?" I bit bat the urge to snap my neck and tell him this childish feud he had with Isabella's brother was becoming awfully tiring— but my own sister beat me to it.

"Shut up, Chris." She growled. "I get it, you got your heart broken by Taylor— don't be a dick and don't ruin my summer or so help me I'll—" Belly leaned against Renae's rolled down window.

"Oop– you'll what?" Her smile brought back the sun shine into our cars horrid aura.

"She's just telling him to stop acting like a child, that's all." Steven scoffed, opening my G-Wagon's trunk. I glared at him through my rearview mirror, sending Belly a look and she sighed.

What an amazing start to summer break— our last year before most of us ship off to college. How. Lovely. Belly and Steven piled their bags on top of ours, closing the trunk. It was time to get on the road and I knew my anxiety was showing.

The silence could be cut with a knife but I knew what everyone here was thinking about. Me— Jeremiah Fisher. Belly— Conrad Fisher. Sadly, Renae— also thought of Connie. Chris— was obviously still texting Taylor in the back with a depressed face, his headphones covering any possible noise that would exit whatever he was listening to. I could tell he was upset he had to sit in a car with Steven, especially after he caught Taylor talking to Belly and having a verbal altercation about her best friend kissing her brother— though I never knew the appeal behind Taylor, she hurt my brother of course I couldn't see it anymore.

We arrived a tad bit late, around 5:30, rolling into the driveway, the sun still beaming onto my skin— it felt like I was swimming in lava, but in like— a good way. "Kids!" Susannah called out, Laurel already by her side, holding a cup of chai tea most likely.

Susannah made her way towards the group of teenagers piling out of my vehicle. We all looked exhausted and awkward. I mean we did just sit in a car full of people— silently— listening to Taylor Swift on the radio.

Me and belly had to hold everything back to not sing into our invisibile hand microphones as we used to do as kids. I smiled just thinking about it, "Hello, Susannah." I embraced her in a hug, her warmth felt like she left a coat of love around my body. Typical Susannah.

I walked towards Laurel as everyone discussed with Suannah about the room arrangements, some bickering about staying with me and Chris due to the large space we had to fill regardless. "Serena," Laurel started, taking me in, she shook her head. "God you have grown so much— it makes me feel old." She took another sip of her tea as I chuckled softly behind the back of my hand.

"You're not old, Laur." Jeremiah shook his wet blonde hair side to side before setting his surf board down. "Hey." He whispered, it felt like only I could hear it— I turned to ignore him by talking to Laurel but she was gone. Little sneak.

"Hey," The coldness that emitted from that one word could cut yet another Titanic in half with tension. Jeremiah sighed.

"You're still mad, aren't you?" I snapped my head around finally staring into his beautiful eyes. God those eyes. I should've known looking into them would bring me back to square one.

"Yes. I'm mad. And yes, I don't want to talk to you, Jere." His face pooled in hurt, I don't care— I can't. He didn't after my Dad died— he left me there, phone in hand, waiting for some sort of message— call— but he didn't. He was gone. "Why not go talk to Steven or something." I tucked a strand piece of hair behind my ear sliding through my message, pretending to be preoccupied with literally anything.

"Can we at least talk about what happened, Enna?" I closed my eyes roughly until I felt the lids almost wrinkle— after a few heartbeats I finally decided to open my eyes again.

"You want to talk to me?" I flicked my eye sight from my phone to his eyes— yet again. Why do I do this to myself? "Why, you didn't care for the months I waited for your call. You didn't wait for the two years I didn't show up to the beach house enough to show up or I don't know, again— call." I could feel the harshiness in my voice— the group of conversing teens and parents snapped their heads in my direction. I clenched my fists until it felt like my nail cut into my skin.

It's been two years and four months since I've even talked to him. Two since I've stood here like this with him, face to face. The anger oozed out of me but the sadness pained me dearly. I felt my chest tighten, with a tug of my heart beat I knew why I never sat and really thought about Jeremiah. I have a boyfriend now, a really sweet boy, but I knew very well that seeing him or his texts would've pained me more than sticking up for myself— it would've hurt drastically.

I spun around on my heels before running. I didn't care that I was in my white sneakers. I ran. .I ran until I could hear the clashing of waves against sand echo louder and louder in my ear drums. 

I inhaled deeply, letting the salt and ocean breeze give me strength to forgive myself for acting like a royal bitch just then— but I let the saltiness be a punishment for how I made a scene, and how much I clearly hurt him too.

"Serena?" Connie called out, his hands in his swimming short pockets. I sighed. "Hey— I'm not here to hound you or anything like that. I'm simply seeing if you're okay." I looked at the ocean as it moved forward and then took two steps back into the depth of its own body.

"I'm fine— I just. I can't, Connie." I felt the burn in my throat. It's been 20 minutes, maybe 30, since we got here. And I already wanted to dig my own grave under the sand.

He sighed, stalking closer before standing right beside me watching the ocean. He knew how it felt– he told me so himself. Me and Conrad Fisher were friends. Not love interests. He loved my best friend, and I loved his brother. Though neither of us would ever admit that, the silence confirmed everything. That's why we got along so much— we could sit in silence for hours, finally talking about some stupid cat video and busting a lung, laughing.

"You don't have to forgive him, Ennie." I know. "But," he continued on as if he was digging into my brain trying to ask for me to forgive him— just for the sake of the trip. "He was going through something too, Serena." I grit my teeth. I. Know.

"I know, but that doesn't make it any better! He could've talked to me about it— he could've just...just..." The tears over flowed, the damn was broken and I was to pay. I wept— almost letting out a wail before I choked back.

[TWO YEARS PRIOR.]

Me and Conrad sat at the table playing cards as Belly watched peaking over his shoulder like a puppy looking for a treat, I smiled softly before wiping the smirk off of my face. "Go already, or I'm taking your ice cream!" I barked. He sighed putting down the rest of his lousy cards— I however had a full house, and slammed it down right after I let out a prideful chuckle of accomplishment.

"Wow!" Belly's eyes almost sparkled with shock and praise. I jokingly flipped my hair, my hand smacking someone's face. I heard a yelp of pain behind me —- I snapped my head around, my blonde hair flicking with my eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry—" Jeremiah chuckled, holding his nose. God. "Are you okay..--" Blood dripped from under his hand and belly dry heaved at the sight of blood. Cleaning up blood was one thing— cleaning up my best friend's puke was not anything I was doing anytime soon.

I sighed, taking him by the arm, dragging his chiseled body into the kitchen. God, get your mind out of the gutter, Serena Eloise Dubois. "I'm sorry for hitting you in the face..." He was still smiling his goofy Jere smile he always had on his also stupid Jere face.

"It's fine, Ennie. You didn't mean to," He paused before scanning my face as I angrily held a cold rag to his nose. "Unless you did!" He let out a fake gasp. "Wow, you're evil."

Heat threatened to peek into my cheeks before I shook my head, closing my eyes. "No, I'm logical. Your mom is gonna kill me when she sees the blood on the white cashmere carpet."

Jeremiah chuckled, his chest rising and lowering like the wind. "No, she can buy another one. If anything she'd be happy if my nose wasn't broken." That was also true, I keep forgetting Susannah loved her kids— she wasn't anything like my mom.

Jeremiah tapped my hand lightly, my muscles tightening. "I think it stopped bleeding— can you move please?" I nodded fast before flipping around, throwing the rag into the kitchen sink. God why am I like this? It's Jere. Jeremiah Fisher! Jeremiah Fisher— the one I grew up with in private school! Our fathers went to college together— they were both Alumni's ... .why did it feel so— foreign when touching him now?

"It stopped." I looked over my shoulder. "What did?" I asked.

He cocked an eyebrow puzzled, "The bleeding—" I coughed on my spit before smiling.

"I was lost in thought, sorry.." Jeremiah smiled, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

"Let's go get some ice cream, you're paying since you hit me like a baseball." I groaned. It was always ice cream with me and him. He'd get a weird flavor like bubble gum or the odd unicorn flavor, and I'd settle on mint chocolate chip per usual— sometimes rocky road if I'm feeling 'fantastical.' Or whatever Jeremiah called it.

We left Belly with Conrad as she'd listen to him babble on about some weird card tricks. She was head over heels for that boy— but did he feel the same? My heart felt a pinch, it wasn't anything I could help but— Jeremiah cleared his throat, walking beside me as we finally got to the peer and dock.

"And what exactly are you thinking about right now, Mrs. Dubois?" I rolled my eyes.

"Just intrusive thoughts— like pushing you off of the peer— oooh! Or maybe even off the ferris wheel!" I smirked devilishly, Jeremiah's muscles tightening.

"Not funny."

"It was."

"Not."

"Totally wasn't not not funny." He let out a sigh of defeat, we'd finally made it to the ice cream line by time we were done going back and forth over stupid things.

"Let me guess, bubble gum, again?" He smirked, shaking his head.

"Nope!" He moved his hand in front of my vision to reveal two mint chocolate chip ice cream scoops. I stood there staring like an idiot for so long— even the ice cream shop worker cleared her throat.

"Can you like, move please? The customers aren't looking too happy." Her cherry blonde hair glistened— I remembered her. She's the girl that made my belly cry...

"Sorry, cherry." I smirked, grabbing my ice cream and just paying for ours, no tip, no nothing. I didn't even care to look at her stupid face— it didn't matter. Jeremiah waved goodbye at her as if apologizing and I shot him a glare.

"Why are you being so hostile today, Ennie?" I shrugged sitting on the cold medal chair, my bare skin hitting the medal sent chills down my spine— cold chills forming onto my skin like bumps.

"I just— hate seeing belly upset, that's all." Jeremiah licked his ice cream, his face looked surprised at how good the ice cream actually was but he didn't comment on it, he simply just listened to me talk.

"She seemed fine though, right? She was laughing and watching him like always." Jeremiah gripped his cone so hard I thought I heard more than the waffle exterior crack.

That's why I couldn't understand my feelings for him— the big oaf. He didn't like how she looked at Conrad when he was right there— waiting. I grit my teeth together. I'd opened my mouth to say something but, no words came out— the silence being cut by the sound of my mom calling me.

"Hello?" I asked, getting out of my seat, throwing the ice cream away in a black trash can.

"Serena, it's time to come home." I chewed on the inside of my cheek, "You're father's in the hospital. Be home, now." I bit down harder and harder before I hung up on her, the metallic taste seeping through my mind and taste buds.

That was the last time I've ever spoken to Jeremiah. I figured out where he stood on my fondness on him that even Susannah tried dropping hints and nudges on— but he didn't want me. He wanted her. And I would've never been the brunette petite girl that stood by the Fisher brother's disposal. Not now, not ever.