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Chapter 1

Every summer since I could remember, we’d head up the coast to the Flynns’ beach house. Summer there was like a dream.

Packing for the beach house, though, was always my own personal nightmare.

Always.

It never used to be so bad when my mom did it for me—back when I was a little girl who didn’t really know or care what I needed. But now I would make more of an effort…and then lose my patience, turn my suitcase over, and start again.

It was midmorning on Wednesday, the day before we left, and Dad came into my room with a glass of soda for me.

“It looks like a bomb’s gone off in here,” he said, laughing.

“I hate packing.”

“Don’t forget to take aftersun.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” No way was I going to forget that; last year I’d burnt the back of my legs so badly, it had been painful to sit down. My dad looked around the room, shook his head, and abandoned me to the chaos.

In the end, I packed the same as always: plenty of swimwear and flip-flops and sun hats, plus some shorts and T-shirts. I eventually threw in a yellow sundress that the girls had convinced me to buy on a day out shopping—just in case.

Part of the reason I was having even more trouble packing this year was because I had a boyfriend now, and he’d be there with us. I’d known Noah and Lee Flynn all my life, and Lee was my best friend, but in the last few months, Noah had gone from being just Lee’s older brother to…well, my boyfriend.

Which meant that we might end up going on a date, especially since we weren’t sneaking around anymore….

I smiled at that. No more sneaking around! No more hiding it from my best friend because I was worried we would hurt his feelings. We were officially dating.

As much as it made me smile, it also made me want to yank at my hair in frustration. What if I wanted to dress nicer to go out places with Noah? Would there be some kind of new rule that meant I couldn’t slouch around in threadbare pajama shorts and a shapeless tank top anywhere near him?

I picked up the pajamas I’d happily worn for the past few months. Definitely not the kind you want your boyfriend to see you in—especially when he’s easily the hottest guy in school, with that swoon-worthy smirk—but it’s not like I had anything different to wear.

I sighed and said to myself, “To hell with it,” and threw them in my case.

A voice sounded behind me. “To hell with what?”

“Hi, Lee,” I greeted him, not even having to glance over my shoulder to know my best friend since forever was standing in my doorway.