"Mom, I'm gonna be late!" Noah's voice echoed through the house as he bounded down the hallway, his duffel bag bouncing against his hip.
From the kitchen came his mother's voice, pitched high with excitement. "Oh honey, take your time! This is such a big day for you. Your first real adventure with friends!"
Noah paused at the bottom of the stairs, checking his phone. 9:47 AM. Emily said she'd pick him up at ten, and knowing her, she'd probably arrive early just to mess with him.
Footsteps announced his mother's approach before she appeared around the corner, practically glowing. Her smile was so bright it could power the neighborhood. One of those expressions that made Noah grateful and deeply embarrassed to be her son.
"Oh sweetie, your glasses are crooked," his mother said, reaching up to adjust them gently on his nose. "There we go. You look so handsome when they sit right. Girls notice these things, you know."
"Now sweetheart," she began, worry creeping into her excitement, "are you sure you packed everything? Sunscreen? Extra clothes? Your phone charger?"
"Mom." Noah's voice carried that teenage strain. "I've packed everything. Three times. I've got it covered."
The flush creeping up his neck showed just how much he wanted this conversation to end. Bad enough he was seventeen and this was his first real outing without parents. He didn't need a full inventory broadcast to the universe.
The sound of a car horn cut through the morning air. Two short beeps that Noah recognized immediately.
"That's Emily," he said, relief flooding his voice.
His father's voice boomed from the kitchen. "The boy heading out already, Linda?"
Heavy footsteps announced his dad's arrival, and Noah braced himself. His parents had been acting strange all week. Too excited, too supportive. The kind of enthusiasm that spelled trouble for teenage dignity.
"Son," his father said with a grin that made Noah's stomach drop, "you're almost eighteen. Time we had a real talk about girls and what happens when teenagers go off together."
"Dad, please don't."
His mother was already nodding, that conspiratorial gleam in her eye. "Your father's right, honey. We know you and Emily have been getting close these past three months."
"Look, son," his father continued, "we're not stupid. You're going to a beach full of hormonal teenagers, and Emily's... well, she's not exactly hard on the eyes."
Noah's face burned. "Can we not do this right now?"
"Actually, we should do this right now," his mother chimed in. "Better you hear it from us than figure it out the hard way."
His father reached into his wallet and pulled out a small square package. "Here. Take these."
"Dad, no." Noah stepped back. "I don't need..."
"Yes, you do." His father pressed the condoms into Noah's palm. "Trust me on this one. Better safe than sorry, and your mother will kill me if I let you go unprepared."
"Oh my God." Noah shoved them deep into his pocket. "I'm leaving now."
"Good boy," his mother said approvingly. "Just remember, use protection and don't do anything we wouldn't do."
"Which gives you plenty of room," his father added with a laugh.
Noah headed for the door like his hair was on fire, both parents following him outside. The morning sun promised another scorcher, and he squinted behind his glasses as he spotted Emily leaning against her car.
Emily Rose was the kind of girl who stopped traffic without trying. Her father bought her the cherry-red Honda Civic for graduation, and she wore her good fortune like everything else, with easy confidence Noah both admired and envied. She was dressed for the beach in cutoff shorts that showed off her long legs and a fitted tank top that left little to the imagination. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail that somehow looked perfect.
What made Emily even more captivating was her voice. She had this incredible singing talent that could silence a room when she performed at school events. Noah had been one of her biggest supporters, always telling her she was destined for stardom. "When you make it big," he'd told her just last week, "I'll be your manager. I believe in you that much."
The thing that still amazed Noah was that someone like Emily, popular and confident with half the senior class wrapped around her finger, had chosen to spend time with him over the past three months. He kept waiting for someone to tell him it was all a joke.
"Ready for adventure, Noah?" Emily called out, pushing off from the car.
Before Noah could respond, his mother's voice rang across the yard. "Emily, dear! Make sure this boy has some real fun. He's been cooped up too long!"
His father cupped his hands around his mouth. "And remember what we talked about, son!"
"I love you, sweetheart!" his mother shouted, waving enthusiastically.
Noah wanted to disappear into the sidewalk. Emily was laughing, not cruelly, but with genuine amusement.
"Your parents are something else," Emily said, shaking her head. "Mine would die before having that conversation in public."
"They have no filter," Noah muttered, climbing into the passenger seat.
"I kind of love it though," Emily said as she started the engine. "At least they're honest about what they expect to happen."
Noah's face burned again. "Can we please talk about literally anything else?"
"Ready, buddy?" Emily asked with a grin.
Noah straightened up, shouldering his bag. "Ready."
The car smelled like vanilla air freshener and coconut sunscreen. Emily had the radio cranked to some pop station, and as they pulled away, Noah felt real freedom for the first time.
"God, I love having my own car," Emily said, drumming her fingers on the wheel. "No more begging for rides, no more curfews based on their schedule."
After a long drive they got stuck in traffic.
A guy in a beat-up pickup pulled alongside them at a red light, honking and gesturing for Emily to roll down her window. She glanced over, took in his leering grin, and cranked up the music.
When he persisted, she rolled down the window just long enough to yell, "Fuck off, creep!" before speeding away as the light turned green.
They both burst into laughter.
"I love how you handle assholes," Noah said.
"Years of practice," Emily replied. "You learn to shut them down fast or they never leave you alone."
The drive took them through winding coastal roads Noah had never traveled. Emily kept up steady chatter about classmates, summer plans, and theories about which teachers were having breakdowns now that they didn't have to deal with seniors.
When they crested the hill revealing the beach spread below, Noah's breath caught. The place was packed with teenagers from their school and others, all celebrating the end of high school. Volleyball nets dotted the sand, coolers served as colorful landmarks, and everywhere people were laughing, playing music, soaking up summer freedom.
And then there were the girls. Everywhere Noah looked, girls in bikinis were playing volleyball, sunbathing, running in and out of the waves. String bikinis, barely-there tops, high-cut bottoms that left nothing to imagination. It was like every teenage fantasy come to life.
'This is heaven,' he thought, his face turning red.
"Holy shit," he breathed, taking it all in.
He was still staring when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Emily had moved behind him, close enough that he could smell her shampoo over the salt air.
"You think this is freaky?" she asked, her voice carrying a note he'd never heard before. Something playful and dangerous. She bit her lower lip in a way that made Noah's brain forget how to function. "Want to see something more freaky than this?"
Noah turned to look at her, trying to read the expression in her dark eyes. Whatever she was suggesting felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.
"Yes," he managed, his voice rougher than intended.
Emily's smile was pure trouble. The beach stretched before them like a promise, and Noah realized this day was going to change everything. The question was whether he was brave enough to let it.