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“After my earlier snafu though…” I said as I caught up.

“I don’t think I’m going to go.” Heat seared my cheeks, and it wasn’t due to a sunburn.

To be honest, I’d be perfectly fine never seeing my classmates again.

“Who cares what those people think? We’ve been prepping our outfits for-e-ver. I’m even willing to wear that crown of leaves you made me.” Batting his eyes for good measure, he brushed his tight waves of jet-black hair behind his ears, fingers smoothing the slightly grown-out locks until they traced his neck.

Our laughter scattered the roosting pelicans.

He had a point—the countless trips to the thrift store and dozens of hot glue burns we’d endured would be for nothing if I bailed.

As of yesterday, we’d finally gotten our costumes in order, ready to embrace the theme: Shakespeare’s Summer Solstice.

When we finally reached the lighthouse, what felt like one million years later, I folded against its brick wall, a thread of energy sweeping across my shoulders and tickling my spine.

My toes wiggled reflexively over the grass, pliant and dewy from the ocean’s spray.

Multicolored specks swarmed in the distance like sand flies—tourists enveloping our seaside town to escape the inland heat.

The tangled structures of the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk were visible through the lingering strips of coastal haze, high-spirited shrieks signaling the latest batch condemned to the Big Dipper’s drop, one of my favorite rides—roller coasters provided me a sacred moment, when my screams superseded the others inside me.

I blew out a sigh, my body becoming as boneless as a sea sponge.

The rhythmic pulse of humanity was intoxicating.

It probably had something to do with—okay, a lot to do with—my waning adrenaline, but from this vantage point in particular, with the corroded frame of the lighthouse humming with its peculiar life force at my back, and the seemingly endless sky and coastline that surrounded me…

it soothed me like a maritime lullaby.

My eyes grew heavy, and I would have let them slip, if not for?—

“We should probably grab your surfboard before someone else does,” Javi said, breaking my Zen.

Crap. I’d left it on the bluff.

I glanced over in that direction, a tiny bolt of panic zinging through me.

“Oh please, no one’s going to run off with my worn out shortboard in the middle of the day.” The tension left my shoulders as the crowd parted, and my gaze settled on its familiar off-white gleam.

“See? You’re just anxious to get to Grad Night because Summer Solstice seems to be every girl’s excuse to wear a crop top.”

He shrugged, fighting a smile.

“A gorgeous fairy queen waiting for me with flowers in her hair sounds like a pretty good reason to split, with your surfboard or not.”

I rolled my eyes playfully.

“I hate to ruin your Shakespearian fantasy, but I’m going to be late for therapy.”

We strode to the overlook, my prized possession laying exactly where I had dropped it.

As I planted my surfboard atop my head, I felt his lens on me immediately and heard the faint click of the shutter.

The silhouette of my bracketed arms arched out of my back, the low sun unfolding their shadows like wispy forelimbs.

I extended my left hand just far enough from my board to flash a playful finger at my friend.

Along with a seriously?

look.

Javi claimed he’d always been “super into” photography, but really it was ever since we spotted the scratched piece of equipment at an estate sale two summers ago.

He’d been playing around with FPS and aspect ratio and exposure composition since then—terms he liked to drop but were very much over my head.

How quickly he’d gone from random snapshots and blurry nature photos to winning first place in exhibits and staying in the dark room till I dragged him out.

“I know sometimes your memory gets a little shaky after an episode, Riv,” he said with one of his yes, now act natural, it’s golden hour looks back, “but did you forget that corn dogs plus costumes plus carnival rides make us, like, really, really happy?”

“Wow, does your sensitivity come and go that easily?” My mouth dropped open in a mock act of shock.

He motioned me over.

“I love this one; your eyes look like little azul jewels.”

I peered at the digital version of myself, eyes indeed sparkling, cheeks peppered with sun freckles, a carefreeness in my jaw, loose strands of golden-tipped brown hair blown across my face…

Javi did have an eye.

I wasn’t a super-smiley, overly happy person by any means, but he managed to capture those glimpses of me, no matter how far they were from what I was feeling inside.

“Anyway, I’m a teensy bit sympathetic after finding my best friend starfished on West Cliff.” He rotated the screen’s mode to off.

“But this is important; Titania needs me. Why do you have a therapy session today ?” Pumping his fist in the air like a gawky version of Braveheart , he bellowed, “This is supposed to be the greatest night of our lives, the gateway to freedom, the rite of passage to our adulthood!”

I snorted, knowing full well the active role we’d both played in avoiding these rituals the last four years.

Although, he had convinced me to go to a house party after the homecoming game that one time, and he did drag me to prom…

but we spent most of the night avoiding the belligerently drunk lacrosse team, eating stale popcorn on the bleachers.

Until the last song, when he extended that hand—the one always there for me.

A twirl of my layered tulle skirts and I came to rest under his chin, tucked and swaying against his matching baby blue dress shirt.

That part, at least, felt memorable.

Okay, so maybe I avoided these hormone-fueled gatherings more than he did.

We stopped at a salt-crusted bike rack, packed with colorful beach cruisers tossed against the frame by impatient surfers.

After loading up my board, I turned my back to Javi and gathered up my hair, uncovering my wetsuit’s zipper.

He moved close, his fingers fumbling with the metal for a moment before it slid down.

He pulled his hand away before he could accidentally brush the pair of linear scars on my shoulder blades.

My skin tingled against the cool ocean air.

“You’re right. What good would a midsummer night be without its ass?” I pulled the damp sleeves off my arms and slid the rest to my waist, revealing the floral one-piece I wore underneath.

“Look, therapy’s the last place I want to be—other than Grad Night,” I corrected myself, lips curving into a mischievous grin.

“But I forgot to cancel, and if I no-show, I’ll get charged and my dad will kill me.”

I spun around to find him wielding his greatest weapons: that dramatic bottom lip and those big puppy dog eyes.

He overemphasized his pout until he won and got a laugh out of me.

“Fine,” I relented. “I’ll go. Corn dogs on me?”

“More like corn dogs on our school, but I do appreciate the offer.” He grinned before his focus moved from my stuck-out tongue to the worn-out strap that slid off my shoulder.

“I’m assuming you might need to make a pit stop first?”

I pretended not to notice the flush in his tawny cheeks, but my body betrayed me, heat creeping over my face and neck.

I quickly tried to fill the silence, forcing my voice light.

“Yeah, the whole no shoes, no shirt, no service thing actually applies in a therapist’s office.”

“You’d think they’d make an exception. This is Santa Cruz. Even the library lets you in barefoot.” He caught himself.

“Not that I know from experience.”

“Surrrre you don’t.” I swung my leg around my cruiser, about to push off with the other.

“Hey, River,” he cooed.

Full of mischief, those eyes, and I already knew the words that dared to be spoken, dancing in their carob twinkle.

“Don’t think I forgot it’s your birthday.”

I groaned.

“Tomorrow.”

“What better way to celebrate your eighteenth lap around the sun when we’re already out celebrating freedom?” That arm rose again in a full-blown flex.

I could think of a million other ways to spend my birthday that didn’t involve rubbing elbows with every single teacher and student who got a front row seat to my graduation tumble.

“Guess we’ll just have to put a candle on top of the funnel cake. But that’s as far as I’m going, Jav.” I squinched my brows together, trying to be stern while he held in a smile, no doubt already plotting.

“Alright, alright. Meet you at the main entrance at six?” The corners of his mouth stretched up and out, unable to resist a grin.

“As if I have any say in the matter,” I teased as I pushed forward, swerving between the dried-out eucalyptus bark and crumbling potholes.

Steadying myself on the wheels, I picked up speed as I biked across West Cliff Drive.

The breeze’s subtle howls wove through my hair like natural whispers, stirring the first voice from wherever she burrowed.

“I’ve never understood these earthborn rituals.” I could’ve sworn I heard a yawn, as if she was…

bored?

“That’s because they’re utterly pointless.” The third voice nipped with the wind stinging my ears.

“Oh, loosen up, it’s just a bit of fun,” I murmured, trusting no one could overhear me as I wove through the groups of joggers, surfers, and bikers.

“You might find it entertaining. I mean, who doesn’t love a good Shakespeare festivity?”

Who was I kidding?

Me, for starters. My fingers curled into the rubber handlebars.

“They’ve done these things since the beginning of time,” the second voice said, tsking with the clink of the pedals.

Not an approval, but at least she didn’t pick apart my life choices in the aimless way I picked at my cuticles—like the other two did.

“Nothing new here.”

“Hapless mortals,” the first sliced in as I faltered over a natural speedbump.

I clenched my teeth.

“Despite what you all think, this hapless mortal might actually enjoy getting out and experiencing the world.” It came out a touch too loud, earning very confused glances from a walking group I passed.

Their raised brows did one thing for me at least—they caused me to take a long, purposeful breath.

Getting riled up on a cruiser on a busy cliff path was not in my best interest.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Laughter rang through the disturbed bits of gravel, the first voice’s cackle catching on my tires.

“We’re a part of you, Watcher. You think we can’t tell how you really feel?”

That was probably the most annoying part.

“But maybe I’m biased—I’ve never been a fan of William’s.” She dropped his first name like it was no big deal.

“Same.” The third groaned with the rough brake of the car at the stop sign on my left.

“ That’s beside the point though—the end is nigh.”

I huffed out a sigh.

Before, it might have made my chest grow tight, but after years of it, this “end of the world” talk was getting really old.

“Ah, so you want her to put her big girl pants on?” the first voice chimed with the bell of a passing bicycle.

“Don’t we all,” the third muttered, voice growing with power as it latched on to the siren of a speeding fire truck.

“If she ignores her past any longer there will be no more gatherings. No more ceremonies. No more Earth.”

“Really—”

“Okay.” I spoke soft but swiftly, cutting the second voice off.

“I get it. Bad River for going to school, for hanging out with friends, for doing everything a teenager is supposed to do. Can you stop being a buzzkill? You don’t get to tell me what to do.” And why should they be?

They were nothing but air!

Nothing but a delusion.

Then the red flash of the fire truck flashed across my vision, and its rumble swept through my veins.

The siren devoured all other sounds, wailing:

No more Earth.

No more Earth.

No more Earth.

The words punctured my mind like tiny corkscrews, pinning reality beneath.

I pedaled backwards to brake and leaned to the side, careful not to plow through the fence lining the cliffs.

I stumbled for the kickstand, slunk into the seat, and blindly reached into my cruiser’s front basket.

As my consciousness began failing, my fingers locked around an item, its padded ends bent in my grasp.

I thrust the headphones onto my head and hit play on the current track.

Outside of surfing, the noise-cancelling headphones were the greatest trick in my stash.

They blocked out the world’s rising chaos until nothing existed but me, and only me, along with the music, and I actually stood a chance at making it through the day.

I kicked my heels into the pedals and recalibrated my senses while the Voices faded out and my playlist faded in.