The shed always smells like saltwater and sunscreen, with wetsuits hanging from hooks and old dive charts tacked up on the walls. It’s our little hideout, cluttered and cozy, and right now all of us are piled onto beanbags and crates, still damp from our last dive. In the middle of the table, the treasure bowl sits overflowing—necklaces tangled together, coins polished smooth by the waves, random trinkets and sea glass glinting under the flickering light.

Izzie perches on a crate across from us, her eyes wide, like she can’t quite believe this is real. Maddie’s holding up some shiny bit of jewellery, dangling it between two fingers.

“See this?” she says with a grin. “This is basically Dive Club. We go down there looking for wrecks, reefs, and adventure—and somehow we always come back with something crazy.”

Stevie smirks. “Oh, you should’ve been there when we found the sword.”

You lean forward, laughing already. “Oh my god, yes. That thing was huge. At first we thought it was just an old anchor or some scrap stuck in the reef. But nope—turns out, it was this giant, rusted sword, like something out of a movie.”

Anna points dramatically at Maddie. “And Maddie nearly sank trying to get it back up.”

“I did not nearly sink!” Maddie shoots back, shaking her head. “It was just heavier than I expected!”

I grin at Izzie. “She was kicking like she had a car engine chained to her ankle. I had to grab it before she dropped it back into the deep.”

“Strong arms, shark magnet,” Anna teases, nudging you.

Izzie tilts her head. “Wait—shark magnet? What do you mean?”

Stevie leans forward, dropping her voice to make it dramatic. “So, we’re swimming back to the Indy with this giant sword, right? And then… it shows up.”

“A shark,” Anna says, her eyes wide. “Not far away either. Like, right behind us. Following us the whole way as we swam back.”

You laugh at the memory. “You could see its shadow in the water every time you turned your head. My heart was beating so hard I swear it made bubbles.”

“And you were swimming like you were in the Olympics,” Maddie adds, rolling her eyes. “Which did not help.”

“Excuse me,” You say, raising your hands. “I was not trying to out-swim you guys. I was trying to out-swim the shark. Big difference.”

That sets everyone off. Stevie snorts soda through her nose, Anna grabs a cushion and throws it at you, Maddie nearly drops the necklace she’s twirling.

“But somehow,” Stevie says between laughs, “we all made it back to the Indy in one piece. The shark just sort of gave us an escort and then disappeared.”

“Still the scariest climb up the ladder of my life,” Anna mutters.

“Was not scarier than Stevie screaming,” I fire back.

“I wasn’t screaming!” Stevie protests.

“Yes, you were!” Anna and I say at the same time, and the shed dissolves into laughter again.

Izzie shakes her head, half-shocked, half-amused. “You guys are insane. And this is normal for you?”

“Pretty much,” I say, tossing a shell back into the bowl. “Storms, wrecks, random treasures, and the occasional shark tagging along. That’s Dive Club.”

Maddie raises her soda can. “And we wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Stevie clinks hers against it. “Except maybe fewer sharks.”

You lean back in the beanbag with a grin. “Nah. Sharks keep it interesting.”

Everyone groans, but the laughter doesn’t stop. And for a second, it feels like nothing can touch us—not storms, not missing friends, not the mysteries waiting out in Cape Mercy’s waters. Just us, Dive Club, together in our little shed, swapping stories and daring the sea to give us another adventure.