I LIE AWAKE like I do most nights.

Sleep doesn't come easy to me, not anymore anyway. Not since the accident. It is to be expected. That's what the therapists told me. Doesn't make it any better, it doesn't make me sleep and I refuse to take the sleep medication. All that does is make me drowsy. If I do sleep, I'm jerked awake in the middle of the night, covered in sweat from the night terror that racks my brain.

Staring up at the ceiling, I blink, trying to rid myself of the feeling of being held underwater. Something that was out of my control. Sighing, I sit up and pull the covers back, my feet touching the wooden floor as I swing my legs out of the bed. The noise from the beach is subdued. Quiet enough so people can sleep, yet still enough where you can hear it if you listen. My feet travel on their own and soon enough I'm sliding the balcony door open and stepping out into the night.

Darkness surrounds the stretch of houses and the road in front, yet the bonfire down on the beach provides a warm orange glow that I can see, even from where I am. The balcony overlooks it, high enough to look down the large wooden stairs and onto the beach. Red solo cups sit in the hands of the locals, as if we were back in high school all over again, talking or moving to the music.

The invitation Atlas extended plays in my mind. Heading back inside, I close the door before heading to my wardrobe. Throwing on a summer dress and running a hairbrush through my curls from earlier in the day. I slip on my sandals and head downstairs. Locking up behind me, I make my way out of the gate and across the road.

My hand brushes against the wooden rail as I make my way down the steps that lead to the beach. The closer I get, the louder the music gets, and the chatter gets clearer. Being down here and not up on the balcony, I can clearly see surfers in the water. Night surfing, as Atlas put it, and a game of beach volleyball currently going on.

People float about over all ends of the beach, the bonfire being a dead center for everyone. As soon as my sandals touch the sand, my eyes scatter the beach for a familiar face.

"Hey! You made it."

Red curls bounce as Gabi makes her way over to me. With a red cup in her hand where the liquid sloshes over as she jogs over, I'm surprised when she brings me in for a hug. Although in the limited time I've known her, I could tell she's a friendly person.

"Last minute decision," I say, shrugging like it's not a big deal, and placing some hair behind my ear.

She links her arm through mine before leading me down the beach. "Well, let's get you a drink."

At the back of the beach, a pop-up table sits filled with alcohol and red cups, where a few people stand around getting their drinks. Gabi greets the guy and girl that stand on the other side. Their eyes flicker over to me, and the guy's eyes widen.

"No way, you're that surfer girl who—"

My body freezes on its own accord and my limbs become constricted. The same reaction I get when the accident gets brought up. Thankfully, before he can continue, Gabi cuts him off. "Careful Marco, your fangirl is showing."

She tugs on my elbow, and we make our way to another part of the beach. The further away we get, the easier it is to breathe and my limbs loosen up once more. Fiddling with the necklace around my neck, a nervous habit I picked up when I was ten, I gulp. "Thanks for that."

She waves me off. "It's no problem. I've realized you don't like people talking about it and don't worry, not everyone is like that."

"I seem to be known as the surfer that wiped out badly these days, who hasn't been seen in like six months." I exhale. Bringing my cup to my lips, allowing the bitter taste of alcohol to slide down the back of my throat. It's rare I drink, mostly when it's not the surfing season.

"Well, here you're just Thalia," Gabi promises, as she nudges me with her hip. "Although the downsides of being in a small town is everyone knows everything. When I had my first kiss at fourteen, my mom knew about it before I even got back from school on that same day."

I laugh as we come to a standstill in the sand, turning to face each other. "That will take some getting used to. My town in North Carolina was small, but not that small where everyone knew each other's business."

Gabi raises her eyebrow, and a look of curiosity takes over her features. "Why didn't you go back home instead of coming here?"

I sigh, giving a one shoulder shrug before turning and looking out at the ocean. "I feel like going home would be a step backwards. It would be like I failed and the last thing I would want is my mother smothering me."

Gabi snorts in agreement, before waving her hands about. "Well, now it's time to show you that small towns can party just as hard as any other place in America and forget everything."

"Even harder I'd say." Atlas's voice comes out of nowhere until he appears. Jogging towards us with his surfboard under his arm and his chiseled abs on display. His eyes float to me and surprise runs through them. "You came."

"Do you ever wear a shirt?" I question him, pointing to his naked chest. He looks down before shrugging without a care in the world.

"If you've got it..." he trails off and I roll my eyes. "I've never been told to put a shirt on before, usually the other way around."

"Gross, dude, gross." Gabi says, scrunching her nose up in disgust. Their relationship reminds me of the type you'd have as brother and sister.

"Relax, I'm messing around," Atlas confirms, hitting her lightly with his board. "You should come night surfing with us sometime."

"Night surfing?" I question, looking out and seeing people still on the waves.

"Atlas and Easton used to do it ever since they were fifteen, and I'd be on the beach terrified for them," Gabi explains, gulping down her drink.

"It sounds dangerous," I tell them, and Gabi nods her head, but Atlas disagrees.

"No one has been injured—yet," Atlas clarifies.

"Yeah, not sure my sponsors would like to hear I got re-injured night surfing," I hum.

"Sponsors? Really? Damn, I'm in the wrong business," Atlas mutters, and we laugh. "Well, I guess I'll be night surfing alone."

He dramatizes what's happening by placing his hand on his chest like he just got hit and Gabi speaks up. "Okay, let's not scare her away."

"Hey Gabi!" someone shouts and we look over, seeing a girl waving her over to where she stands at a table that has beer pong going on. "Either you, Atlas, or your friend want to play?"

"Any good at beer pong?" Gabi asks, turning to me.

"Why does this feel like high school all over again? Or the college experience I never got?" I laugh.

"Nothing wrong with that. How about we make a bet?" Atlas asks as he goes to put his shirt on, and I raise my eyebrow before gesturing for him to continue. "We'll be on separate teams. If my team wins, you have to help me teach the kiddos surfing for the rest of your time here."

"Okay and if the team I'm on wins, you have to teach those kids wearing a ballerina outfit. I'll be on the beach, anyway. I could use some entertainment," I state my terms.

"Deal," Atlas agrees, holding his hand out for me to shake, and I place my hand in his.

"Deal."

✺✺✺

The orange glow illuminates around us as we dance a little away from the fire in a large group. Gabi bumps my hip as she laughs, clearly intoxicated, before grabbing my hand and making me spin. I do the same to her and she giggles as she spins into a guy, Sam. I remember him from making the deliveries to the beach hut and she winks at me before dancing with him.

Having drunk a little more than usual myself thanks to beer pong, I continue to dance, whether by myself or some locals who join me. Stepping away for a moment, the cool breeze hits me the further I walk away from the fire. Walking down the shore, like I do during the day. I place my empty cup in the bin at the side of the pop-up table, having decided I'm done drinking for the night. Sitting in the sand further away from the main part of the party, I bring my knees up to my chest and sigh as I stare out at the water.

"I've never seen anyone more fascinated by the ocean than you. Either that or you're a sore loser and am hiding from me, but that won't get you out of teaching."

His raspy voice reaches my eyes, and I don't take my eyes off the ocean, yet from the corner of my eye see him sit down next to me in the sand. Atlas rests his arms on his bent knees and looks out at the ocean or the part of it we can see that isn't covered by the darkness of the night. Sitting away from the party allows us to hear the noise of the waves. It's a calming sound.

I smile. "There's something calming about it. It makes me feel at home."

"Then why aren't you ever on the water?" Atlas questions, and I sigh before turning my head to look at him.

"That's complicated."

Tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, my eyes don't leave his. His eyes flicker between both of mine, as if searching for something or trying to piece something together. A small smile tilts at his lips. "Isn't everything?"

"Touché," I say before averting my gaze to the sand, and I run my hand through the grains.

As crazy as it sounds, there is something about Sandy Cove that makes things a little easier. Something about Atlas that gives off this aura that even though you have only just met feels like you've known him forever and can tell him anything. There's never judgement in his eyes, words, or his actions. Which is why I find it easy to open up to him. His calming nature is like that of the town.

"Have you ever been so scared of something that you love at the same time?"

"You mean like when I was eight, and I loved mint choc chip ice cream, but one time I ate too much and got a terrible stomach ache. So after that, even though I loved it, I was scared to eat it again?" Atlas suggests, and I shake my head, laughing.

"You're so weird," I admit, wrinkling my nose, and he shrugs, giving me a gentle smile. "But no."

"Really? I could have sworn we were talking about ice cream," Atlas jokes. "And now I want some."

I snort, picking at my nails. "Too bad it's closed."

"Well, to answer your question. In a sense, yes, but sometimes that love overrides the fear and once you've conquered that fear, you'll kick yourself for not doing so earlier," Atlas hums. I look over at him, seeing him pursing his lips as he stares at the ocean.

"Poetic," I deadpan, and he chuckles, taking his eyes off the ocean and looking at me.

"So, how are you liking Sandy Cove so far?" Atlas asks, changing the subject.

"It paints the whole coastal town, doesn't it?" I ask, and he nods his head in amusement. "I've been into town a few times. What else is there to see?"

His eyebrows raise, a fake offended look on his face. "You're seeing things from an outsider's perspective. You haven't looked closer into what us locals see."

"And what do you see, Atlas?" I ask, turning my body slightly to face him.

"Well, sunshine," he begins, and I purse my lips at the nickname. "I bet you didn't know there's a small alley down the side of the farmer's market that leads to a little bookstore. Or that there's another beach."

My lips part. "Another beach?"

He smiles, amused, before standing up, brushing the sand off him. "Meet me at the Beach Hut tomorrow at eleven."

"What for?" I ask, raising my eyebrow, confused.

"I am going to show you Sandy Cove as the locals know it—" he says, as he walks off and before I can shout, he turns around, now walking backwards. "—oh, and sunshine, don't think I've forgotten that I won at beer pong. I'll let you know when my next class is."

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A U T H O R   N O T E

I think Sunshine is going to be Thalia's new nickname...

Thoughts?