The heat was unbearable. The sun blazed high above Adventure Land, melting the gloss off the food stalls and making Tessa regret every life choice that had led her here -- especially agreeing to wait.
She stood by the giant fountain near the entrance, tapping her foot furiously, her face glistening with sweat and fury. Her phone was glued to her hand as she muttered under her breath, "If those two brats left me behind, I swear I'll strangle them myself."
She dialed Maya's number again -- ring… ring… ring -- nothing. "Unbelievable," she hissed, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. "Maya, if you don't pick up this phone right now, I'll feed you to the damn roller coaster."
A few families passed by, giving her wary glances as she ranted. She didn't care. Her patience had been fried three calls ago.
"Of course," she muttered bitterly, "I should've gotten Sophie's number. Brilliant move, Tessa. Just brilliant. Now you're stuck here roasting like a turkey because two idiots forgot the meaning of time!"
She hit redial one last time, pressing the phone to her ear -- and just as the dial tone rang again, a familiar voice came from behind her.
"Tess! Over here!"
Tessa froze, slowly lowering her phone. Maya and Sophie were walking toward her, laughing, holding bags of gifts, cotton candy, and a giant stuffed panda between them -- both looking like they'd just had the best day of their lives.
Her jaw clenched. Her pulse spiked. She marched toward them, face dark with wrath.
"Where the fuck have you two been?" she yelled, loud enough to startle a kid holding a balloon nearby.
Maya blinked, stopping mid-laugh. "What?" she asked, confused. "You said we should meet back here in three hours."
Tessa's teeth ground audibly. "We were supposed to meet here by two, Maya. It's four. I've been standing here for two hours.. in the freaking sun... waiting for the both of you!"
Sophie hugged the panda protectively, frowning. "Well, you did say we should have fun."
Tessa spun to her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Having fun doesn't include making me wait for two hours under the fucking sun, Sophie!"
Maya raised her hands defensively. "Okay, okay, calm down. We lost track of time. You should've just called."
That did it.
Tessa stepped closer, her face only inches from Maya's, her expression murderous. "You think I didn't do that?" she growled through her teeth. "Check. Your. Fucking. Phone!"
Maya fumbled for her phone, swiping across the screen. Missed calls -- seven of them. "Oh…" she said quietly. "Sorry."
"Sorry," Tessa repeated, her tone dry as sandpaper. She turned abruptly, muttering curses under her breath, and started walking away.
Sophie leaned toward Maya and whispered, "She's pretty mad."
Maya sighed. "Yeah. Guess her date didn't go so well."
"Hey! Wait for us!" Maya called, jogging after her.
"How was your date?" Sophie shouted from behind, clutching her panda as they both hurried to catch up.
Tessa didn't look back. "I don't wanna talk about it," she said sharply.
The three of them disappeared into the crowd, the sound of carousel music fading behind them.
Logan's Room
Logan sat on the edge of his bed, the late afternoon light pouring through the curtains, warm and golden. His eyes lingered on the painting across from him -- a beach scene, two figures sitting apart on the sand, facing the sea but turned slightly toward each other.
A faint smile touched his lips as the memory took hold.
Flashback -- Some Years Ago
Maya's room was scattered with art supplies -- open paint tubes, sketch pads, brushes standing in jars. She sat on a stool in front of a half-finished canvas, completely immersed in her work, the end of her ponytail stained with blue from where she'd carelessly brushed it against the paint.
Ethan crept into the doorway first, pressing a finger to his lips. "Shh," he whispered to Logan, who stood behind him, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Before Logan could protest, Ethan lunged forward. "BOO!"
The brush jerked in Maya's hand, leaving a thick streak of blue across the pale sky she'd spent hours on.
"Ethan!" she snapped, spinning around, her eyes flashing. She turned back to the painting, horrified. "You ruined it!"
Ethan doubled over laughing. "You should've seen your face!"
"Ugh, Ethan!" she yelled, her tone dripping with irritation.
He mimicked her voice mockingly, "Ugh, Ethan!" still laughing as she clenched her brush like a weapon.
"You're so dead!" she hissed, standing up to whack him. But before she could, her eyes caught Logan standing at the door, chuckling softly.
Her anger faltered, replaced with shy surprise. "Logan… you're here."
Logan walked in, eyes bright with amusement. "You know," he said, his voice smooth, "you look pretty when you're angry."
Maya froze. A tiny smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.
Ethan made a gagging sound. "Pretty? You call that pretty? Even zombies would run from her. The day she becomes pretty will truly be the end of the world."
Maya's smile disappeared instantly. She turned to him, narrowing her eyes. "Run if you still want a mouth on your face."
Ethan's grin faltered. "Yeah, uh...bye." He dashed out, laughing nervously.
When he was gone, silence filled the room again -- soft and charged.
Logan stepped closer, his gaze on the painting behind her. "What's that?"
She spread her arms protectively. "Nothing."
He tilted his head, teasing. "Doesn't look like nothing."
"You can't see it."
He smirked, stepping closer, one hand slipping around her waist. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not done yet," she said, her voice small but steady.
"All the more reason to see it," he murmured, leaning closer.
She shook her head quickly. "No way."
He leaned in -- so close she could feel his breath -- and just as her eyes fluttered shut, he grinned and snatched the canvas from behind her.
"Logan!" she squealed, jumping to reach it as he held it high.
"Too late!" he said, laughing.
She pouted, arms crossed.
He studied the painting -- the same one that hung in his room now. Two figures on a beach, apart but connected. There was a streak near the sky -- the very one caused by Ethan's prank.
"This is where we first met," he said softly.
"Yes," she said, sheepish. "But it's not finished yet. Ethan distracted me, so now I have to start all over."
He set it on the easel. "Why? It's perfect."
She pointed to the streak. "See? He ruined it."
He smiled. "It's hardly noticeable. It's perfect -- just the way it is."
Her eyes softened. "It was meant to be a gift for you. I wanted it to be flawless."
He brushed a thumb over her cheek. "It is flawless, Maya. Because you painted it."
Her breath caught.
Then he leaned down and kissed her. It was slow at first -- cautious, deliberate -- then deeper, hungrier, until she melted into him, her hands gripping his shirt. His fingers tangled in her hair as he tilted her chin up, the taste of paint and breath mingling between them.
They broke apart only when they heard --
"Ethan!" her mother's voice thundered from downstairs. "How many times have I told you not to leave your socks by the door?!"
Maya gasped. "That's Mom! She's not supposed to be home yet!"
"Maya..."
"Hide!" she hissed, pushing him toward the wardrobe.
He stumbled inside, muffled laughter escaping him.
A second later, her mom peeked into the room. Maya was already sitting at her desk, pretending to read.
"What are you doing?"
"Studying," Maya said, forcing a smile.
Her mom nodded. "Good. I want an A+ in math. Nothing less."
"Yes, Mom."
Once the footsteps faded, Maya exhaled and rushed to open the wardrobe. Logan stepped out -- and before she could speak, he kissed her again. Harder this time. His hands on her waist, her fingers clutching his shoulders. The kiss deepened until the room seemed to spin, the air thick with warmth and everything they weren't supposed to be.
Present Time
Logan blinked back to the present, still staring at the same painting. His eyes were glossy, a faint tremor in his jaw.
He traced the faint streak -- the imperfection she'd hated -- and whispered, voice breaking, "I'm sorry."
The Cross Estate
Damien sat in the heavy silence of his father's study. The old man's back was straight, his eyes sharp above his glass of whiskey.
"Brielle is a perfect fit for Logan," the patriarch began.
Damien scoffed. "She's too arrogant."
"Too bad," the man said calmly. "You only have one more year here. Don't do anything stupid."
"I know perfectly well how many years I have left," Damien muttered.
"Good," the old man said, swirling his drink. "Because if you try any shenanigans, I'll ship you off before the sun sets. You'll never come back."
Damien chuckled dryly. "That's rich -- considering the reason you're making me leave is to bring me back here for the company."
They locked eyes, the tension thick.
"Your time's ticking," the patriarch said. "And I expect there's nothing -- or no one -- that'll threaten your departure."
Damien leaned back. "There isn't."
"Really?" the man said, smiling thinly. "Because I've been hearing rumors. About you and your brother's lover… what was her name again? Maya Rivers."
Damien's hands curled into fists. "Never heard of her."
The man tilted his head. "Are you sure? You go to the same college."
"It's college," Damien said smoothly. "I can't possibly know everyone. You said it yourself -- rumors."
The old man's smile deepened. "I hope they remain just that. We wouldn't want the girl getting hurt now, would we?"
Damien's jaw tightened, every muscle in his arm flexing.
"No," he said quietly, eyes cold. "We wouldn't."