Watching them go, I'm struck by how much Jake has changed from the shy, awkward boy I once knew. He's grown into himself, drawing others naturally while never failing to circle back to me with reassuring smiles.

Camilla nudges me, eyes gleaming. "That boy has a serious case of puppy love for you, girlfriend."

I laugh despite the flutter in my chest. "Jake? No, he doesn't."

"Oh, please," Marcus joins in. "It's as obvious as a giraffe in a flock of sheep. Has there ever been anything between you two?"

My thoughts drift to summers past. "No, nothing like that. He's been my best friend since we were kids. Not to mention he's like a brother to me."

"Really?" Camilla presses.

"Yeah," I affirm.

"Does the little golden retriever know that?" She nods toward Jake as he spikes the ball, celebrating the point.

"I'm steering clear of the Sullivan boys—and all boys—this summer."

"Oh girl, good luck with that," Marcus says, gesturing at me with a flourish. "You're a force, sweetie, not to mention an absolute stunner. If I didn't swing the other way, I'd totally shoot my shot with you."

His compliment, though sweet, makes me squirm. I've always seen myself as average, preferring to blend into the background. Even as my body has changed over the past year, I shy away from attention. Complications are exactly what I'm trying to avoid.

The night deepens, shadows dancing across the sand as the volleyball game continues. Jake's athletic grace draws admiring glances he seems oblivious to, though he keeps checking on me with little looks that make Camilla's earlier words echo in my mind.

Is it really that obvious to everyone?

I head to the makeshift beach bar to grab a bottle of water, and it takes less than sixty seconds to be cornered by another hellhound.

"You're brave showing your face tonight." Farrah's voice drops my stomach to my feet. She stands with arms crossed, flashy rings catching firelight like warning signals.

All I wanted was a bottle of water and a drama free night. Was that too much to ask for?

"What can I say? I love the beach," I reply, hoping my sarcasm masks my nerves.

"Especially after your little stunt last night," she snaps. "Where's Nate?"

"He's not here," I say, keeping it short as her smile turns saccharine.

"Kind of pathetic this damsel act you pull around him."

The air constricts around us. "We're just friends," I say firmly. "You have nothing to worry about."

"You think you're a threat?" she smirks, continuing, "That's cute."

Camilla sweeps in before Farrah can continue, and I exhale silently in relief.

"Hey, peroxide Barbie, turn around and walk away," Camilla says, looping her arm through mine.

Farrah's eyes flash as her minions appear beside her, tension crackling.

How do I keep landing in these situations?