“We won’t if you’re with us,” Leo shoots back.
Ryan sighs dramatically to show us he’s doing us a huge favor but tosses the book aside. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We grab the lights from the basket. Mom’s outside on the porch, barefoot with a cocktail in hand, laughing with the next-door neighbor. She glances over, lifting her glass. “Staywith Ryan, and don’t let me catch y’all past those dunes, you hear?”
“Deal!” we yell back, already sprinting into the dark.
The beams slice through the night, the air smelling of salt and smoke from far-off bonfires, the shore cool beneath our toes. Ryan bolts ahead, whooping, his beam swinging wildly. Leo follows at an easy jog, calling for us to keep up. Eden stays close to me, her smaller steps kicking up puffs of dust.
We play tag, chasing each other while our lights skitter across the sand. Leo dives onto the ground, laughing, while Ryan charges ahead, shouting challenges into the dark. Eden tries to keep up, but when her brothers race toward the shadows near the dunes, she slows, the glow of her light trembling.
“Hey,” I say, stopping beside her. “You okay?”
She bites her lip—this habit she has when she’s thinking that makes her look older than eight. Her eyes lock on the place where the moonlight fades and the dunes rise. “It’s…really dark out there.”
“It’s just the beach.” I crouch, shining my beam into the shadows. “See? Nothing there but shore.”
She nods but doesn’t move. The thought of her being scared tightens my chest. I don’t know why. I just want her to feel safe—with me. I hand her my light. “Here. Take mine. It’s brighter.”
Carefully, she takes it, and I fall into step beside her, close enough that our shoulders touch. “Stick with me, Trouble,” I say lightly.
She looks up at me, curious. “Trouble?”
“Mom says you’re always getting into scrapes,” I tell her, grinning. “Our little troublemaker.”
That gets a tiny laugh out of her. We catch up to theothers, and for the rest of the night, I make sure she’s never more than an arm’s length away. When Leo bolts off to chase Ryan, I stay with her, letting her trace shapes in the wet ground with her beam. She laughs when crabs scuttle out of the glow, and I laugh too.
We rinse our feet at the outdoor shower before trudging inside. Eden barely makes it to her bed, curling up on top of the sheets.
I pull a blanket over her shoulders. She stirs, her voice soft with sleep. “Thanks, Nate.”
The way she says my name makes me light up. “Anytime,” I whisper.
Mom pokes her head in, smiling at Eden curled up on the bed. “Don’t forget your sunscreen tomorrow,” she says, voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. Her eyes cut to me. “Yes, you too, Nathaniel. Don’t think that dark skin of yours won’t burn.”
I groan automatically, even though I know she’s right. She just laughs, brushing my hair back with her fingers, a gesture she’s been doing since I was little. “Go on now. Let the baby rest. We got a whole summer waiting on us.”
I sit on the edge of Eden’s bed for a moment after Mom leaves, watching her breathe, then head across the hall to the bunks, falling asleep with salt still stuck between my toes.
The sun spillsthrough the gauzy curtains when I wake, the smell of toasted waffles drifting through the house. I head to the kitchen where Ryan stands in board shorts, pulling waffles from the toaster.
“Morning, runt,” he says without looking up.
“Not a runt,” I grumble.
The table is set with plates, a bowl of grapes—half green, half red—sitting in the center, Nutella and jelly on the side. Eden sits with Leo, carefully picking out the green ones, the only ones she’ll have. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, pops another grape into her mouth, and brightens when she sees me.
After breakfast, Ryan leans on the counter. “Clean up, gremlins.”
Leo groans but clears the plates. Eden hums while stacking cups in the dishwasher.
The screen door creaks, and Mom steps in from the porch, a copy ofThe Color Purpletucked under her arm. She glances around, clocking the clean counters and empty plates. Her smile is easy, her voice relaxed.
“Appreciate y’all handling breakfast,” she says, nodding approvingly because she expected nothing less.
Ryan’s already sliding his feet into flip-flops. “I’m out. Meeting the guys.” He slaps Leo’s back on his way to the door. “Don’t burn the place down.”
Leo watches him go, then looks at me. “Going to Max’s. He’s got a new skimboard. You coming?”
