1 4 | c a s t l e  r o c k

I WAS TIRED. My body ached as I pushed my squeaking bike to the front of Clemente House, my eyes threatening to flutter shut.

It was normally halfway through summer that working every day at the Shack began to wear me out. It was becoming difficult to roll out of bed and make myself pedal twenty minutes to the beach. At least last summer I had my car.

The sun was just beginning to rise, the sky lightening and turning a milky blue, when I locked eyes with Everett.

He leaned against the wall on the front porch, his eyes settling on me.

"Hey," he smiled, pushing off the wall and jogging to meet me.

"Hey," I grumbled, my voice raspy from sleepiness and lack of use.

His brows shot up. "Bad morning?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why are you so perky at five thirty in the morning?"

He paused in thought, running a hand through his dark hair. "I've spent too much time with you You're rubbing off on me."

"You're telling me," I teased, though my voice came out dry of any amusement. "Don't you know the way to the beach by now? What do you need me for?"

Everett chuckled. "My grandma's paranoid. She's probably watching us out of her window right now."

I craned my neck up towards Clemente House at his remark, and sure enough, her silhouette stood in the top right window of the building – anominous shadow against yellow light. A genuine laugh sputtered from my lips and Everett watched me, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Told you."

"What?" I laughed, shaking my head. Suddenly, all of my fatigue had disappeared, and I felt light with laughter. The sky was turning blue with sunlight, bathing us in its orange glow and reflecting my mood. "I mean, you're eighteen. Why is she so worried?"

I faced Everett, my chest bubbling with amusement, but his smile had faltered and no longer reached his eyes.

"No idea," he muttered, though it definitely looked like he had some kind of an idea.

I remembered the last time I'd asked him about his life. How he'd gotten angry and distant. I decided to let it drop.

"God, I'm so tired," I complained, letting out a load groan. "Why do I have to go to work?"

Everett quirked a brow at me. "Don't you ever get a day off?"

"Not really," I sighed. "It's tourist season. It's practically the only time of the year that the Shack gets busy." I paused, thinking. "I think I have a day off next week, though."

He hummed at my response, furrowing his brow for a moment before turning to me. "So, why don't you just quit?"

"Quit?" I laughed, raising a brow.

"Why not?" he asked. I faced him and he sent me a serious look. "You're a teenager. You should be enjoying your summer. Connor and River don't have jobs."

"That's because River is loaded."

"Seriously, Isla," Everett said. My brows drew together, and he sent me a curious look. "You wake up every day of your break before the sun is even up, and then work your arse off, sometimes for twelve hours straight. Why do you do it all?"

"I just need the money," I said finally, shrugging.

He paused, hesitating, as if wondering whether to push it or not. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to me with a lifted brow.

"What do you need the money for?" he asked.

I pursed my lips. It was a good question. My mum was able to pay the bills just fine on her own. We weren't in need or anything. We had food, we had clothes, we even had luxuries like surf boards and my mum's car.

But my savings – that was for something entirely different.

I hesitated. No one had ever pushed the question onto me. Most people's minds drifted to the typical things a teenage girl spent money on – clothes, food, shoes. I'd never admitted the real reason to anyone before, not even Sky, and today was not going to be the day that I did.

Especially not at six in the morning to a boy I'd known for a few short weeks.

He'd probably make fun of me. Tease me and call me a second choice, call my savings a waste of time, a hopeless endeavour.

So, I screwed my mouth shut and sent him a half-shrug.

"You know," I answered, vaguely. "Food and stuff."

Everett narrowed his eyes at me, and I turned away, feeling myself warm under his sharp gaze. The beach had come into view at this point and my bike let out a loud creak as we stepped onto sand.

"You should get a new bike," he said eventually, his smile teasing, but his eyes still scrutinising. "That one's begging for mercy."

I had the awful feeling that he'd seen through my lie, but I was grateful he'd dropped it.

I forced out a laugh and hoped he didn't notice that it fell short.

"Speaking of food," I said, trying to move the subject away from me and my life. I locked my bike onto the bike rack and swung my bag over my shoulder.

"Here," I said. I grabbed a small, bright purple chocolate bar from my bag and tossed it at him.

He caught it swiftly and held it to his eyes, squinting suspiciously. "What is this?"

"A Freddo Frog," I said wisely. I sent him a pointed look. "When I said I was introducing you to real candy, I wasn't lying."

He watched me carefully and I felt my face flush in embarrassment, suddenly feeling defensive. I opened my mouth, ready to quickly come up with an excuse. I had extra. They were on special. You don't have to try it. But he interrupted me.

"Right," he snorted. "Is it anything like the Flake?"

Mylips twitched and I nodded to the chocolate in his hands. "Well, you'll have to try it to find out."

He smirked at me and I sent him a proud smile. Slowly, he turned the wrapper over in his hands. It was bright purple, a smiling green cartoon frog on the front with the word 'Freddo' on his little yellow t-shirt.

"Why's he wearing a crop top?" he asked, arching a teasing brow.

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "That is not a crop top."

"Hey, I'm not judging," he said, raising his hands in mock defence. "Freddo can wear whatever he wants."

"It is pretty hot in Australia," I played along, shrugging.

His smile grew wider and he carefully unwrapped the chocolate, revealing a frog-shaped bar of milk chocolate. Slowly, he lifted it to his lips, taking a chunk out of Freddo's head. He hummed as he chewed it, narrowing his eyes. His tongue flittered over his lips and I realised I'd been staring.

I ripped my eyes to face the beach, beginning to lead us towards the Shack.

"Well?" I asked as we walked, fighting the blush that threatened to erupt across my face.

"It tastes like plain chocolate," he said simply.

I sent him a mock-horrified expression. "It is not just plain chocolate."

"No?"

"No!" I exclaimed.

"It looks like plain chocolate."

"But it's in the shape of a frog."

"So?"

"So," I said slowly, like explaining it to a child. "It's special."

"Right," he said, sending me a confused look. "So, it's special because... he's a frog?"

I smiled at him. "Now you're getting it."

He laughed, rolling his eyes and finishing the chocolate. I noticed how he held onto the wrapper, shoving it into his pocket instead of dropping it onto the sand. It reminded me of the time I'd scolded him for leaving his cigarette butt on the floor.

"Did they copy it from Harry Potter, or something?" he asked as we reached the Shack.

My eyes widened and I turned from unlocking the door to send him a deeply offended look.

"Rowling copied it from us, thank you very much," I said with a huff.

He chuckled, taking his usual seat on one of the Shack's stools. I opened the door, entering and immediately switching on the fan. It would be a hot one today. I could already feel sweat sticking to my skin beneath my bikini. I wiped a sleeve over my forehead before pushing the shutters up, locking them into place and pulling out the huge booking's directory.

Everett leaned onto the counter, watching as I flicked to today's date in the book.

I looked through the page, noting that our first customer would be here in an hour – at seven. It was a relatively empty day today, with only a dozen bookings, and most of them for kayaks.

I began filling it out and organising the schedule, still feeling Everett's eyes on me.

Eventually, I'd had enough.

"What?" I asked, embarrassed as he stared. I met his eyes and a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Nothing," he shrugged.

"You're staring at me," I pointed out.

"What are you going to do?" he began, his eyes glittering mischievously. "Punch me?"

"I'm considering it," I shot back, though my lips twitched into a lopsided smile. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I'm just observing," he replied.

I scoffed. I wasn't exactly doing much – and it definitely wasn't anything interesting enough to stare at.

I quirked a brow at him, curiously. "What's there to observe?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. His brow furrowed in thought and after a second, he continued. "It's just interesting. How you work. How you turn on the fan every day as soon as you get in. How you organise the counter and place your pens in a perfect row there."

He pointed at my two black pens sitting perfectly beside the red ones in a neat little row.

"How you turn to today's bookings and fill out the schedule. Once you're done with that, you're probably going to get your water bottle out of your bag and place it in that corner –" He nodded to the far corner of the counter that was mostly hidden from the customer's view. "And then Tom will show up and you'll start answering calls. It's like clockwork."

I paused, speechless. He said it so nonchalantly, but it amazed me. He was right. That was my routine every workday.

I hadn't realised he'd been watching me.

I always thought he'd been too entranced by his phone – whatever he was always doing on there.

The silence grew and Everett eventually cleared his throat self-consciously and muttered, "Just thought you were weirdly organised, Monroe."

I blinked, snapping out of my daze and swallowing thickly.

"I didn't realise you were watching me work," I said. I intended my words to come out teasingly, but they lilted in a surprised tone instead.

Everett smirked, but his ears turned pink and he tore his eyes away with a shrug.

"I always watch you work. What else would I do all day?"

I don't know, stare at half naked tourists and text on your phone? It was on the tip of my tongue, but I bit it back, still chuffed by the idea that he watched me. He paid attention.

Besides, I didn't feel like starting a fight today. It was kind of nice, getting along with Everett.

He was funny when he was in a good mood – full of wisecracking jokes and teasing tones. I liked it when the silence around us was filled with stifled laughter and comfortable quiet.

So, I turned back to today's schedule, fighting a smile as I finished it up before moving to grab my bottle of water. Everett said nothing, but I knew from the smug look on his face that he felt victorious in the way he'd predicted my motions.

He raised a brow at me when I caught his eye, as if to say see? I'm right.

I rolled my eyes, lifting the bottle to my lips and wetting my tongue, but I couldn't help the embarrassed warmth that spread across my face and crept to my ears. He had been right, after all. 

Even I hadn't really realised that I'd been doing the same routine every day. It had been all on instinct, moving through the same motions based on muscle memory. But Everett had been watching, and he'd noticed it all.

A part of me wondered if Austin even knew my routine. I turned the idea over in my mind, pretending my heart didn't sink at the thought. Pretending my grip on my pen didn't tighten.

Because I already knew the answer to that question. And it wasn't the answer I'd wanted.

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A U T H O R ' S N O T E

Hello! So, a bit of development between Isla and Everett! What did you think? Any guesses as to what Isla's saving for? Next time: they surf hehe

Also, thank you so much for 10k reads ahh! I can't believe it! I really appreciate every read, vote and comment! It means a lot! 💕