Packing is supposed to be stressful, but Naomi’s making it an extreme sport.

I’m literally standing in my bedroom, surrounded by half-folded clothes and open suitcases, watching her spiral.

“Did you pack your toothbrush?” she asks for what feels like the hundredth time.

I can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? A toothbrush?”

Naomi looks at me like I’ve suggested traveling to Mars without oxygen. Her dark braids are pulled back in a ponytail, and she’s got that super-intense look she gets when she’s worried.

Which, right now, is about everything.

“Luna be serious,” she says, holding up a pair of my favorite jeans like they’re some kind of critical evidence. “You are going miles away, you can’t forget anything.”

I walk over and place my hand on her shoulder. The touch stops her mid-ramble.

“Relax,” I tell her. “I’m going to be fine.”

She nods, but I can tell she’s not convinced. Her eyes are doing that thing where they’re trying to be brave but are basically screaming panic.

“You don’t have to go,” she says softly.

I feel a sharp pang in my chest. It’s the one thing she’s been avoiding saying, and now that it’s out, I don’t know how to respond.

I know she doesn’t mean it—not really. This is Naomi’s way of processing. Of holding onto me just a little longer.

We’ve had this conversation before, more than once. The whole “don’t leave me” speech. The idea that somehow everything would be okay if I just stayed here, stayed with her. It’s not that I don’t want to.

But I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t let fear hold me back—not mine, and definitely not hers.

I swallow hard and pull her close, feeling the weight of her body against mine. One thing about Naomi—when we kiss, the entire world kind of disappears.

It’s like there’s nothing else but the feeling of her lips against mine, the warmth of her hands on my face.

And this kiss? It’s deep. Intense. Like she’s trying to memorize me, store me away somewhere safe where distance can’t touch us.

When we finally break apart, I’m breathless. The air between us is heavy, thick with all the words we haven’t said yet.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper.

“But we’re not done packing—” she starts, her voice a little panicked.

I shake my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “I don’t give a shit about packing right now. I just want this day with you.”

She stares at me for a second, like she’s about to argue, but then she just nods.

Her eyes soften, and I know she’s probably thinking the same thing I am—that this day feels like a goodbye, even though it’s not.

We grab snacks at the local convenience store—cheese puffs, energy drinks, a bag of sour gummy worms. The cashier gives us this knowing smile, like he’s seen a thousand summer romance moments just like ours.

Driving feels different today. The sun is this perfect golden color, casting everything in a kind of magical light.

Naomi keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other intertwined with mine. Her thumb traces little circles on my skin—a habit she doesn’t even realize she has.

I let the comfort of it wash over me, trying to hold onto this feeling. It’s strange,  but with Naomi here, it feels like it's going to be okay.

“I can’t believe you’re really going,” Naomi says. “I mean, I always knew you’d go off and do great things, but now that it’s actually happening, it just feels... weird.”

“I know,” I reply, squeezing her hand tighter. “It’s weird for me too. But I’ve been waiting for this. For so long.”

She glances over at me, the sunlight catching the side of her face in that perfect way that makes everything feel like a moment on a movie. I wish I could capture this.

“Are you sure you’re ready? I mean, I know you’ve wanted this, but... it’s a lot. A whole new life. You won’t be here anymore. I won’t be able to see you whenever I want. It’s just... different.”

“Yeah,” I say, looking out the window. “But different doesn’t mean bad. But we’ll figure it out.”

She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s processing everything I said.

The car hums steadily along the road, the sound of the tires against the pavement oddly comforting.

The town we’ve spent our whole lives in is fading behind us, and I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic. It’s hard to imagine leaving this place behind.

The pier is quiet this afternoon, most people either working or hanging out at the beach. This means we basically have the place to ourselves, and I’m more than okay with that.

We walk along the boardwalk, past the arcade, the cotton candy stand, and stop to watch some kids playing those rigged carnival games.

The air smells like salty ocean water, like sunblock. Like summer.

“Remember when we first came here?” Naomi asks suddenly, looking out at the Ferris wheel.

I totally do. I was a nervous mess, and she was trying so hard to be cool. We’d ended up getting stuck on the Ferris wheel when it temporarily stopped, and that was when I first realized I was falling for her.

“Yeah, I remember,” I say, grinning at the memory.

She laughs, her hand still clutching mine, her thumb making those soft circles again.

“Good,” she says with a smile.

We climb into that same Ferris wheel. The guy operating it looks bored, barely glancing our way as he starts the ride.

But up here? Everything is different.

The entire town spreads out beneath us—a patchwork of streets, rooftops, and trees. The ocean stretches out, this massive blue thing that seems to go on forever. I take it all in, trying to remember how perfect this moment is.

How perfect she is.

Naomi turns to me, her expression suddenly serious. “You have to promise to call. Text. Send pigeons. Something.”

I laugh. “Pigeons? Really?”

She raises an eyebrow. “I’m serious. I’ll worry about you. You have to stay in touch. Every day.”

“I promise,” I tell her, squeezing her hand. “And when I get back after summer, I’m still going to be your girlfriend.”

It’s more than a promise. It’s a commitment. I need her to know that no matter how far away I am, no matter how many miles separate us, I’m not going anywhere. Not really. Not forever.

She looks at me, her eyes soft, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world is right there in that gaze. “You’re really sure?”

“Yeah,” I say, my voice steady. “I’m sure.”

The Ferris wheel keeps turning, slowly, and the sun starts to set, casting a warm orange glow over everything below. The town looks even more beautiful than usual, bathed in the golden light of the evening. And for a moment, everything feels perfect.

This moment. This place. Naomi and me.

I do what I've been yearning to do all day. I pull out my camera and takes shots of us, the town, Naomi with all her dimpled smiles and everything.

Then I kiss her, as if to seal the moment.