“Oh no, did you alert the sheriff?” Henry asks, deadpan. The café goes quiet for a beat too long. You don’t drop the sheriff’s name in Baywood unless you want to kill the vibe or summon something worse.
Steve clears his throat and asks: “Earl, you got the specimen?”
“Yes, of course, here it is,” Earl says, regaining composure. He rummages around his tote and pulls out a candle labeledThe Authentic Baywood Scent 2024.
He places it on the table like it’s a sacred relic. “I present you the festival candle,” he intones, and half the table leans in, sniffing the candle like a pack of detector dogs on duty.
I edge closer to Henry and whisper, “Last year’s candle smelled more like Harold’s feet than anything else.”
Henry chuckles, maybe relieved the awkward silence is over. “I heard your set list includesMilkshake.”
“Yep,” I say. “I promised Ann-Sabrina I’d replace ‘boys’ with ‘fae.’”
The chaos swirls around us. It’s eccentric, maddening, and still… home.
My phone buzzes. I glance at it, thinking it’s probably from my friend Jørgen, who’s minding Noah.
It’s not. It's from another friend, Caspian.
His words hit me like a bucket of ice water: “I think I just saw Xaden Bailey!”
My grip tightens around the phone. In my mind, I see Xaden as he was the last time, when the air between us burned like it might never cool again. Henry says something, but I don’t hear him, my heart’s bounding too wildly. My chair scrapes back, and I’m outside before I even realize I’ve moved.
I lean against the warm brick, hands shaking.Inhale. Exhale. Come on Cole, breathe.
He’s already done his worst. You survived.
But surviving isn’t the same as getting over it.
XADEN
Dad always said:You want to be good? Then be good.Simple for him. A struggle for me.
When I was a kid, being good meant remembering my manners, helping Mrs. Pickens cross the street, mowing the Wilkinsons’ lawn when they were out of town. I didn’t bully anyone. I shared. I cared. But I got older, and the rules blurred. Life stopped being black and white. It sure as hell wasn’t fair.
I grew up in the rougher area of Baywood, Bay Hollow, where the pavement cracked, windows stuck, and everyone knew your business. We didn’t have much, but what we had we held onto tight: loyalty, grit, pride.
My best friend, Cole Hudson, lived in East Bay, where driveways were smooth and lined with hedges, and the mailboxes didn't lean. His place had two stories, a wraparound porch, and the kind of shine that said ‘untouchable’.
Bay Hollow threw punches and taught kids to survive.
East Bay threw charity galas and taught kids to host.
Cole and I became friends after I rescued him from a tree. He’d climbed up to help a kitten that was perfectly capable of climbing down, and then he got stuck. I climbed up, showed him where to put his hands and feet, and helped him down. He gave me half his jelly sandwich and promised to be my friend forever. We were eight. Way too young to know love, but even then there was something about Cole that filled my heart with tenderness.
Years later, we fell in love. It felt impossible that someone like Cole could see me, all of me, and love me back. But he did.
So of course I messed it up. Of course I walked away. Failed him. Just like I’d failed the one person I owed everything to. My dad. Failing the ones I love is kind of my thing.
And now, back in Baywood, with sharks already circling, I know one thing for sure: I’ll fail Cole all over again.
COLE
We got lucky with the weather for the festival. All summer it’s been scorching with near-nightly thunderstorms, but tonight, July decided to be generous. The air is warm, a light breeze curling off the lake, and the setting sun bathes everything in honeyed light.
I’m glad Ann-Sabrina insisted we get fairy lights. The way they blink above, like lazy fireflies, make the whole place look almost magical.
Singing in front of a cheering crowd isn’t the worst way to spend a Sunday evening. My version ofMilkshakereally did bring all the Fae to the yard, thanks to Ann-Sabrina inviting a bunch of larpers to my gig. Mr. Benson nearly wept over my take onJust a Little Lovin’,and Earl got so intoSummer NightsI half expected the paramedics to be called for his hip.
