“You have got to be kidding me,” Gemma said, and cursed under her breath.

She’d worked her butt off to pay for this car. Between the long hours she spent training at the pool and keeping up on her schoolwork, she had little time for a steady job. That had left her stuck babysitting the horrible Tennenmeyer boys. They put gum in her hair and poured bleach on her favorite sweater.

But she’d toughed it out. Gemma had been determined to get a car when she turned sixteen, even if that meant dealing with the Tennenmeyers. Her older sister, Harper, had gotten their father’s old car as a hand-me-down. Harper had offered to let Gemma drive it, but she had declined.

Mainly, Gemma needed her own car because neither Harper nor her father readily approved of her late-night swims at Anthemusa Bay. They didn’t live far from the bay, but the distance wasn’t what bothered her family. It was the late-night part—and that was the thing that Gemma craved most.

Out there, under the stars, the water seemed like it went on forever. The bay met the sea, which in turn met the sky, and it all blended together like she was floating in an eternal loop. There was something magical about the bay at night, something that her family couldn’t seem to understand.

Gemma tried the key one more time, but it only elicited the same empty clicking sound from her car. Sighing, she leaned forward and stared out at the moonlit sky through the cracked windshield. It was getting late, and even if she left on foot right now, she wouldn’t get back from her swim until almost midnight.

That wouldn’t be a huge problem, but her curfew was eleven. Starting off the summer being grounded on top of having a dead car was the last thing she wanted. Her swim would have to wait for another night.

She got out of the car. When she tried to slam the door shut in frustration, it only groaned, and a chunk of rust fell off the bottom.

“This is by far the worst three hundred dollars I ever spent,” Gemma muttered.

“Car trouble?” Alex asked from behind her, startling her so much she nearly screamed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She turned around to face him. “No, it’s okay,” she said, waving it off. “I didn’t hear you come out.”

Alex had lived next door to them for the past ten years, and there was nothing scary about him. As he got older, he’d tried to smooth out his unruly dark hair, but a lock near the front always stood up, a cowlick he could never tame. It made him look younger than eighteen, and when he smiled, he looked younger still.

There was something innocent about him, and that was probably why Harper had never thought of him as anything more than a friend. Even Gemma had dismissed him as uncrushworthy until recently. She’d seen the subtle changes in him, his youthfulness giving way to broad shoulders and strong arms.