Chapter one:The first glances

The California sun hit the ocean like a thousand tiny mirrors, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.

We’d come to the beach as a group—just another weekend trip before life got too serious. Ryan had begged me to tag along, promising it’d be chill: surf, music, cheap beer, and no responsibilities. I hadn’t expected her.

His sister.

She wasn’t supposed to be here—at least that’s what Ryan said when we packed the car. But now she was, standing by the water with her hair loose and her laughter mixing with the waves. The kind of sound that sneaks under your skin.

Her name was Layla.

She looked nothing like the quiet, bookish girl I remembered from a few years ago. She was older now—sunlight kissed her skin, and the wind kept playing with her hair as if even it couldn’t stay away.

I don’t believe in “love at first sight.” But I do believe in moments—the kind that shift something inside you before you can stop it. This was one of them.

Ryan yelled something from the waves, snapping me out of it. I forced a laugh, pretending I hadn’t been staring. She turned then—right at me—and smiled. Just a polite, small curve of her lips. But my chest tightened like she’d seen everything I was trying to hide.

She walked over, sand clinging to her feet.

“You’re Ethan, right?” she asked.

Her voice—God, it was soft.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “Ryan’s annoying best friend.”

That made her laugh. “At least you know it.”

And that was it. Nothing more. But somehow, the air felt different after.

I should’ve looked away. I should’ve reminded myself she was Ryan’s sister. But instead, I kept finding her in the crowd all afternoon. Every glance felt like I was falling into something I couldn’t name—and definitely shouldn’t want.

⸻

Layla

Ethan wasn’t what I expected.

Ryan always described him as “the reckless one,” the guy who drove too fast and flirted with anything that moved. But the boy sitting across from me by the bonfire that night wasn’t reckless. He was quiet. Thoughtful. Like he carried too much inside and didn’t know where to put it.

He caught me staring once. I looked away too fast, pretending to poke at the sand.

There was something about him—something careful. And that was dangerous, because careful boys are the ones who mean it when they look at you.

He asked me where I’d been studying. I told him about my photography classes, how I loved the way a camera could freeze emotion. He smiled, like he understood.

But there was something else in his eyes—something he wasn’t saying. And I didn’t ask.

The ocean crashed somewhere behind us, and for a second, I thought maybe this trip would change everything. I didn’t know how or why, but I felt it.

And if Ethan felt it too… he was hiding it well.

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