Welcome to Corbet's Inlet, North Carolina, where the teenagers act like adults and the adults act like teenagers. It's Griffin Connolly's favorite place in the world. And while she may not be good at making decisions when it comes to her own life, s...
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Charlie jolts awake that morning, drenched in sweat, and twenty minutes before his alarm clock. He drags a ragged breath in and stretches out under the sheets. Both his ankles pop and crack, but his heart rate doesn't slow down.
You'd think after three years he would've stopped reacting to dreams about her this way—especially since he hasn't had one in a few months now—but nope. Nothing's changed. As long as she's in it, Charlie jumpstarts his day halfway into an anxiety attack, and the staticky ache in his chest will linger around until it's time for bed again.
A few minutes pass before he sits up. He forces himself out of bed and heads for the bathroom. Fragments of his dream creep in and out of his head all the way to the sink. He waits until after he's brushed his teeth to yell for Evan to get up.
"Dude." Evan sounds irritated and muffled behind the bathroom door on the far wall. "It's not even eight yet. Leave me alone."
"Let's go, man," Charlie says. "Breakfast before class."
"Screw breakfast before class..."
But Charlie still hears him fumbling around his room. Evan kicks open the bathroom door a moment later.
Charlie grins. "Hey, cutie."
Evan scowls at him in the mirror. He looks half-dead. "Why are you so perky right now?"
"Because I drank, like, eight less beers than you did last night."
"Right. Since you were in the corner all night talking to that hot redhead. You get her number?"
"Nope."
"God. Why not?" Evan pouts. He bends down and yanks a bottle of Advil out from under his sink.
"Could've at least gotten it for me."
Charlie splashes water on his face.
"Wasn't feeling it," he says through a hand towel.
Evan scoffs. "Of course not."
"You gonna be ready to leave in a few minutes?"
He nods, and Charlie leaves to get dressed.
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