By the time I make it back home, it's already dark outside. Being in the summer air with music drowning out my thoughts was all I wanted to do with my day. I just walked and walked and walked until my legs ached. I'm not entirely sure how I didn't get lost somewhere. It was like my feet knew where to take me, I just followed them.

"I saved you some Italian," my dad shouts from the kitchen. His head is shoved under the sink, probably fixing some plumbing problem. Another thing to add to the list of reasons why I hate this house.

"I got some food while I was out," I lie.

"I'll put it in the fridge for tomorrow then. It should be alright to reheat, right?"

He usually asked my mother these questions. She'd roll her eyes and make fun of him for his inability to cook and he'd wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close, insisting that he didn't need to know how because he had her. She was always the best at cooking.

"Should be." I shrug.

I kick my shoes off near the door and head upstairs. "Night," my dad calls up after me. My heart clenches when he doesn't call me honey or pumpkin pie, but I ignore it. It's what I wanted after all.

Once I make it to my room, I shut the door behind me. All my stuff is still packed away in a box sitting atop my desk. A job for tomorrow. My curtains are still wide open, the bird crap even brighter against the night sky. I march over and pull them closed.

It takes me forever to finally fall asleep. Despite being wrapped up in my own comforter on my own bed, nothing feels the same anymore. My room's different. The town's different. I'm different. And that's what haunts me in the darkness that night. Nothing will ever be the same again.

I wake with a jolt. My eyes dart around the room in a panic until I realize where I am. The nightmare that haunted me last night, the same one that has haunted me for the past month, was only made worse by being in a place I don't know. My limbs are still shaky, caked in sweat despite my comforter being thrown to the floor. My throat is painfully dry, and my hair is sticking to my face. My heart still races in my chest.

I push myself up onto my elbows and swallow the nausea that hits me. Another thing I hate about this house. The bathroom is downstairs. At home, it was opposite my room, meaning I could sneak over on the tips of my toes and gulp water from the faucet without alerting my dad that I'm awake. Now I have to go all the way down the stairs.

Begrudgingly, I wrap my robe around me- one of the only things I unpacked- and head to the kitchen. The stairs creak beneath my feet. Adding that to the list.

"Why are you walking down the stairs like you just robbed the place?" My dad laughs with one hand on his chest like always.

"I didn't realize you were awake."

"I've been up a couple hours now unpacking," he admits. His eyes don't meet mine when he says it. He opens the fridge and peers inside it. "You hungry? We've got- yeah, all we've got is leftover Italian food. You fancy that?" He jokes.

"I think I'm just going to stick with water."

"Suit yourself."

I almost forget that these are new cabinets in a new house, and I'll have to relearn where everything is again. "Glasses?" I ask for now. I'll figure out where the rest of the stuff is later.

"To your left." He points past my head.

I fill one with water and take three large gulps before I even begin to feel satisfied. It soothes the cracks that feel as though they're running down every inch of my throat but barely. Without realizing it, I take a seat across from my dad at the table. Just like old times. He raises his brows but doesn't question it.

We haven't had a full conversation in a month.

"You want to help me finish unpacking?" He asks, tapping his fingers against the table.

I readjust the bun in my hair that has loosened over the night. "I was actually going to see if I could find a job somewhere."

He smiles a genuine smile. I can't even remember the last time he smiled that wide. "Good idea, kiddo. Then you'll have your own cash to spend when you want to go out with your friends."

I smile but it doesn't reach my eyes, swallowing back the words that come to mind. What friends? The friends that are now thousands of miles away? Doesn't look like I'll be going out with them anytime soon.

It's clear from our lack of conversation that things just haven't been the same since that day. We can't joke back and forth like we used to. Part of me thinks that it was my mother that brought us both together. That without her we're just two people floating around each other. Two people connected by blood and nothing else.

I stand up when the silence becomes suffocating. "Probably best to get an early start on the job hunting. Wish me luck," I say.

"Good luck." He shoots me a thumbs up.

Guilt strangles me as I leave him sitting there alone. I shouldn't feel relieved to get away from him. He's my dad. But I do.

My bag weighs heavy on my shoulder from all the résumés I brought out with me. My mother made me print off a bunch so I could hand them out back home. She said she'd go with me for moral support. We never did end up going.

But after hours of handing them out to every store I could find, even the ones that weren't hiring, my bag still feels as full as it did when I left the house. And without even realizing it I find myself heading towards the water.

The beach was always my mother's happy place. Eventually, it became mine too. I think living so close to the sea is the one and only thing on my list of reasons why I like living here. Still, it could never compete against all the reasons I don't.

When my feet hit the sand, I kick off my shoes and hold them. Going closer and closer until I'm only meters away from the water. I sink to the floor and pull my knees up to my chest, resting my head on them. I stuff my earphones into my bag and wrap my arms around my calves.

The breeze is soft against my skin. The hint of coconut in the sunscreen that I slathered on my body from head to toe this morning eases all my tension. Sitting here makes me want to come back at sunrise. Watch the pinks and oranges glide over the water, creating a kaleidoscope of color. Nothing disturbing the peace except the morning calls of birds and the lapping of waves.

"Phoenix," that same annoying voice from the pier takes an axe to my peace. He's like an alarm in the morning, bringing me back to a reality I don't want to be a part of.

"Can't I just have one moment of peace without you ruining it?" I groan and spread my legs out in front of me.

He takes a seat beside me. "No." He grins. "Has anyone ever told you that it's unhealthy to be alone all the time?"

My hands rake up sand beside me, so I don't accidentally punch him in the nose.

"I'm not alone all the time," I lie. He makes me feel like a book that's spine has been cracked so hard it no longer closes. No matter how hard I try he can read me easily.

"Who else have you seen today then? Apart from me."

I stare out at the water, hoping that if I look hard enough, he will evaporate beside me. "My dad."

"Apart from your dad?"

My silence is like music to his ears. He knocks his arm against mine and lays back on the sand. I didn't notice his freckles until this moment. They peak out of the neck of his shirt, splattering like the spray of paint off a paintbrush down his arms. Over the bridge of his nose. Across the apples of his cheeks.

He squints up at me, shielding his eyes with his hand. "Quit staring at me and lay down," he demands.

I don't have time to feel embarrassed before he grabs my arm and yanks me down next to him. For some reason, I don't resist. I place my hands on my stomach and fiddle with the ring on my index finger. Twisting and turning it.

"Do you always fidget when you're nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," I claim, forcing my hands down beside me. His grin grows wider. And for a moment, I find myself wanting to be honest with this boy I hardly know. "But ye, I guess I do."

He shakes his head, scooping a hole in the sand as he tries to get comfy. His hair, wavy from the water, falls into his eyes, splaying shadows across his face. Part of me wants to reach out and trace the shadows with my fingers. I bury that part of me deep down until I can't hear it anymore.

"What's in the bag?" He asks.

It takes me a while to remember the answer to his question. It's like a fog has clouded my head, making it almost impossible to think about anything other than this moment.

"Résumés."

"Boring," he sings, and I have to stifle a giggle. "I was expecting something with a little more." He pauses to make jazz hands and the urge to laugh grows, "like a new set of lacy underwear or- "

I shove him away. "Of course, you'd say that."

He holds his hands up in surrender. His shoulders shake with laughter, and I smile. One of those that come with a burst of excitement that makes you want to jump up and run around to let all the energy out.

"I'm sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind."

"And you think that makes it any better?"

"I can't help being an honest person," he says.

Silence floats over us after that. But, surprisingly, it's not the type of silence that makes you want to talk about mundane stuff like the weather to escape it. It's a welcomed silence. One that steadies your heart as the tension in your limbs pours out of you. It's a silence that I welcome with open arms. My eyes fall closed on their own accord.

"Don't fall asleep on me, Phoenix," he says.

I turn my head to face him to find him already looking at me. A rose tint climbs up my throat and settles on my cheeks.

"My name's Scarlett," I tell him.

He sticks his hand out for me to shake and I roll my eyes before placing my hand in his. He grips it firmly. I didn't realize how big his hands were until now. "Tyler," he says and the smile that has brightened my features since he interrupted my peace grows wider.

Tyler. It suits him.

"Listen, I'm meeting up with a few friends tonight on the beach. And I was thinking you might want to come along. That's if you're not too busy hanging out with your dad to make it," he teases.

A sudden spike of nerves shoots through my veins.

"Sure."

"Is that a sure I'll come just because you asked or a sure I want to come? Because there's a big difference." I push myself up off the sand and hold my hand out for him. He takes it and it takes all my strength to yank him up. "This should be the other way around," he mutters.

I wipe my palms across my jeans, suddenly conscious that they're sweaty. "I want to come," I confirm.

"Cool," he says as he walks backward. Even without looking, he manages to dodge all the sandcastles and the people lounging on their beach towels soaking up the sun. "See you tonight, Phoenix." That same salute from yesterday.

"See you." I grab my bag and hoist it up onto my shoulder with a laugh.

Today is the first time I've felt some sort of normalcy in my life since that day. Today, I didn't feel like a child struggling to survive each day without the guidance of her mother. Today, I felt like a girl. One who hangs out with friends and gets invited to gatherings on the beach.

I want to be that girl every day.