Between the waves and you

The sun sits low over Bellharbor, throwing long shadows across the pier. The air is warm, the kind that clings to your skin and smells like salt and late summer blooms. I walk slowly, letting the boards creak beneath my feet, trying not to let my thoughts spiral.

Noah's truck sits toward the end, the old blue paint catching the light. He's leaning against it, hands tucked in his pockets, watching the water.

When he spots me, he straightens up.

"Hey," he says, voice low but steady.

"Hey," I answer, trying to keep my tone casual.

He steps closer, then stops, giving me space.

"You look... well," he says. "Like you've been thinking."

"I have," | admit. "About a lot of things."

"Good things?"

I laugh softly, though it sounds hollow. "I guess... some."

He nods slowly, then gestures toward the pier.

"Walk with me?"

We move together in silence at first, the tide brushing against the pilings beneath us. There's something deliberate in his pace, careful but unwavering 

"I've been trying," he says finally, "to be better.

For myself, for you... for whatever we might still have."

I stop walking and look at him. The sunlight catches in his hair, the small crease at the corner of his eyes that always makes him look both tired and alive. "Noah, it's been hard... trusting again. You left before."

"I know," he says. "And I can't ask you to forget that. But I want to try. I want to be someone you can count on."

The way he looks at me-open, honest, unflinching-it's almost impossible not to want to believe him.

Later that afternoon, I'm at Eli's booth near the boardwalk. He's perched casually on a crate, arms crossed, smirking. "Thought you'd be sulking after your little morning reunion."

"I'm not sulking," I reply, though I feel a tug in my chest that gives me away.

"Right," he says, standing. "You just look like someone torn between two hurricanes."

I roll my eyes, but he keeps smiling. "Come on.walk with me.

We wander down the beach, the warm sand sticking to our feet. Eli talks easily, effortlessly making me laugh, teasing me about the sketch I was working on earlier, pointing out seashells with perfect symmetry. There's a lightness to being with him, a freedom that feels like flying in the sun.

"You make it hard to think" I admit, slowing my steps.

"Good," he says. "Sometimes it's better not to think."

I glance at him, and for a moment, everything else-the pier, Noah, the past-fades. It's just us, the waves, the horizon.

As the sun starts to dip toward the water, the sky blooms orange and gold. I'm torn, pulled by both boys like the tide itself. Noah has history, quiet stability, and that unspoken depth I can't ignore. Eli has energy, laughter, warmth, and a way of making the world feel new.

They represent different currents in my life-both irresistible, both dangerous.

I close my eyes and try to listen to the waves, but even the sea seems uncertain.

When I open them, I see movement at the end of 

the beach. Noah has arrived, walking slowly toward me. His gaze is fixed on me, and in his steps I feel the weight of years we've shared, the unspoken apologies, the longing.

Eli notices him too, but doesn't step back.

Instead, he smiles faintly, a challenge and a comfort all at once.

I freeze, caught between the two of them, realizing for the first time that summer isn't just about sunsets and laughter anymore. It's about choices-choices that feel like the tide, inevitable and unstoppable.

The waves lap at my feet, cold and certain, and I take a deep breath.

This summer, my heart will have to decide.

The wind tastes of salt as Noah stops a few feet away, hands tucked in his pockets, his eyes fixed on me. The world feels tiny -the beach, the waves, Eli beside me- and yet every heartbeat seems loud enough to crack everything open.

"You've been dodging me," Noah says softly, with an edge that isn't anger, just need.

"I haven't been dodging anyone," | answer, though it sounds hollow. I glance at Eli, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his lips, then back to Noah. The tension between the three of us hums, thick as the humid air.

Noah steps closer. "Em, I... I don't want to fight with him. I just want you to know how I feel.

How much l've missed you."

Eli's smirk fades a little, weight shifting. "You're not trying to fight with me," he says lightly. "I don't want to compete for you. But I won't pretend I don't care."

My chest tightens, my heart racing. Two boys, two currents, and me-watching the space between them, pulled by both.

"I... I don't know what to do,"

" I whisper.

Noah reaches out, hesitates, then brushes a strand of hair from my face. The touch is gentle, grounding. "You don't have to decide right now,"

he says. "Just..... don't push me away."

Eli comes closer on my other side, fingers brushing mine in a touch that's half accidental, half meant. "And I won't. I just want you to see me, all of me, and know I'm here, too."

The sun slips lower, gold and pink coloring the horizon, and I feel trapped in a beautiful kind of storm. My heart is full, scared, alive.

I step back, closing my eyes for a moment. The waves crash on the sand, relentless, constant.

Their rhythm echoes inside me-two pulses, two currents, two truths.

When I open my eyes, Noah watches me with that quiet intensity that always makes me melt, while Eli's gaze is steady, warm, teasing, daring me to lean toward him.

"I can't..." I begin, my voice shaking. "I can't just pick right now."

Noah's jaw tightens, but he doesn't pull away. Eli tilts his head, smiling softly. "Then don't," he says. "For tonight, just be here. Be with us. And let the tide take care of the rest."

We stand there, three of us, with the waves at our feet and the sky bleeding color above us. I let the summer wrap around me-the heat, the salt, the possibility. I know this is only the start.

Noah leans closer, voice almost a whisper: "I'll wait. As long as I have to." Eli brushes my hand again, casual, almost a promise: "And so will I."

I look to the horizon, the sea stretching on, knowing the summer will change everything. My heart races, torn between two loves, two futures, two tides-and me learning that love isn't simple, never safe, but always worth it.

The sun sinks below the water, leaving us in twilight's violet glow. The air hums with the waves, steady and sure, and I realize something: my choice isn't about which love I want more.

It's about who makes me feel most alive.

For the first time this summer, I let myself feel it all the longing, the fear, the warmth, the pull.

And I know tomorrow won't be the same.

Because hearts, like tides, move in ways you can't always predict.