Page 15 of Rival Summer

"Well, anyway, you know where I live if you need me after your talk," Reese said, and for a moment his eyes softened, reflecting a rare glimmer of hope. “And I guess you aren’t that bad of a ball player either.”

"Yeah, yeah," I agreed, pushing off from my tailgate before making my way to the driver's side. "I’ll see you around."

"Alright," Reese grunted, pulling me out of the memory. He straightened his shirt as if realigning his scattered dignity. "Guess I deserved that one."

After taking a moment to regain his composure, he glanced at me, nodding. "Boston." His tone was nonchalant, but I could tell he was cautiously navigating this conversation.

"Reese," I acknowledged him with a nod.

It was a brief exchange but it spoke volumes. The rivalry that had defined our relationship seemed trivial now, overshadowed by this new, uncharted territory we found ourselves in. No longer enemies, not friends—not ready to say what we really were.

"Right," Reese finally said, breaking our silent communication. He ran a hand through his dark hair, and adjusted himself—almost as if he was checking to make sure all parts were still there.

"Guess we've got some work to do if we’re gonna win that championship this year, huh?" he added, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah," I breathed out, the word barely audible. "Guess we do."

Our shared uncertainty was obvious, a bridge still yet to be crossed. But for the moment, we could be in the same room, silently acknowledging the complicated ties neither of us asked for but that nevertheless unexpectedly connected us.

SEVEN

chandler

I beltedout a song on my Taylor Swift playlist with the carelessness that only solo car concerts could inspire. I danced in the driver's seat, the steering wheel my only witness to the horrendous performance, thank goodness. I glanced in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of the clothes and boxes obscuring my view. It was clear I’d packed every single thing I owned. If I hadn't, I would still be standing in my room, trying to decide what to bring with me.

I sang louder, tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat, doing my best to fight away the anxiety of returning to Bayside. My phone interrupted the music, blaring through the speakers. The screen flashed “Willow” in bold letters. Willow rarely called without good reason.

"Hey, Will," I answered, pressing the answer button on the dash.

"Channy! How far out are you?" Willow asked, her voice a mix of excitement and urgency.

"About thirty minutes away. Why? What's up?"

"Okay, listen, I need you to come straight to the Blue Devils’ clubhouse."

I almost pulled the car over. "What? I can't. I'm wearing no makeup, and my hair is…" I reached up to feel the messy bun on my head, suddenly self-conscious.

"No one cares about your crazy hair right now. No one but the staff is here. But Caroline is losing it. She's president of the committee this year, and someone just bailed. With the welcome event for the team and their families tomorrow, we're gonna be chained to decoration duty all night."

I sighed. "Alright, I'm on my way." I could already hear the commotion of preparations in the background.

"Thank you! You're the best. See you soon!"

The line went dead, and the song resumed. I turned down the music and focused on the road ahead, the landscape zipping by as I made my way to a place I wasn’t quite ready to see again. The Blue Devils’ clubhouse.

"Alright," I reluctantly conceded to the empty car, a frown tugging at my lips as I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror. The girl staring back was not the same girl as last summer. I veered off the main road, steering towards the clubhouse, my heart beginning an erratic dance.

I pulled into the gravel lot and the sight of the familiar facility sent unexpected sadness through me. I parked and switched off the ignition, allowing the silence to envelop me. It wasn't just the building that flooded my mind with memories—it was him. Reese Carrington. His image was etched into every corner of this place. My first glimpse of those piercing green eyes had been in that building, setting the course for the rest of the summer.

I let out a shaky breath, thinking about the way my heart had leapt in his presence. After things ended, Reese's attempts at communication had been sporadic—a few texts here and there. It seemed like he just sent them because he felt bad for breaking up with me and wanted to maintain some form of contact so I wouldn't think he was a dick. I kept my distance.

I would often wonder about him—if his voice still sounded the same, if he still smelled as good as he did when I pressed my head against his chest. But nostalgia was a bitch, one I needed to close the door on—actually, slam the door on. That was in the past and it was staying there.

"Stay strong," I whispered to my reflection in the mirror. "New summer, new rules," I affirmed, gripping the steering wheel before finally pushing the door open. This summer was about moving forward, not looking back. No summer flings, no heartbreaks—just pure, unadulterated fun, starting with surviving Caroline's decorating debacle.

The door to the clubhouse swung open with a familiar creak, and I was instantly surrounded by the controlled chaos of pre-event commotion. Vibrant streamers danced from the ceiling, balloons scattered, and committee members were running all around, absorbed in their respective tasks.

"Chandler!" Before I could look around, a tornado of golden curls was on top of me. Willow attacked me with such a force that it made us both tumble to the floor. It had been months since I'd seen her, but the warmth of our embrace bridged the gap of time.

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