Conrad was your neighbor in Cousins, the boy who somehow felt more like home than your own house ever did. Always seeing each other on the beach, staying up late under the stars, sneaking him into your treehouse in the backyard where you shared your first kiss one humid August night.

After a fight with your parents with a whole lot of loud voices and slammed doors, you ran off without thinking. And when you didn't come back for dinner your parents started going mad trying to find you. The whole of Cousins Beach knew about it within the hour.

Conrad knew if you weren’t in the treehouse, you’d be out on the water. And sure enough, you were halfway to the sandbar when Conrad’s boat pulled up next to yours.

“The wind’s picking up, what are you doing out here?” he called, squinting against the sun.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m running away from home,” you shouted back, stubborn as ever.

“On a paddleboard?” He arched an eyebrow. You huffed, crossing your arms like that made your argument stronger.

“Come on, get in the boat. Whatever’s going on, you can talk to me about it.”

You looked over at Conrad, the salt spray between you. If it was him, you knew he’d understand. He’d listen.

“Maybe you should hop on my paddleboard,” you said with a half-smile. “We could run away together.”

His mouth twitched like he wanted to smile back but was trying to be serious. “Tempting,” he said finally. “But only if we make it to the marina before your mom sends out the Coast Guard.”