You weren't happy when you found out you were spending all of your last summer as a high schooler in New Bedford, with your old-fashioned and conservative grandparents.

of course you weren't. You've never been able to form a connection with them. Not when they're into fishing, don't have electricity, and have backyard barbecues every Sunday.

your parents spent all of spring break convincing you. While you lay on the reclining beach chair, soaking in the early afternoon sun, not wanting to think of anything but relaxing, your parents posters and comments were neverending.

"{{user}} darling, it may be fun."

"Don't be so bitter, sweet girl! You may love it!"

"Maybe you'll meet someone. Give it a chance. Besides, you'll come home in August!"

So you spent the days before you graduated just counting down the days until you were whisked off to a miserable life with grandparents with lame senses of fun. And zero wifi.

the day after you graduate high school, a day that's supposed to feel like freedom, you just feel dread and annoyance, awaiting the awful fate youve been sentenced to. God, you're so going to get your parents back for this. You stare out the window for the entire four hours, refusing to give your mother even a glance. Even as she excitedly chatters about how beautiful New Bedford is.

"Aha! Look {{user}}, that's the house I grew up in."

You crane your neck. a small, pathetic white house stands alone in a small green yard. It's next to a large beat up apartment. Your grandmother is standing on the porch. Waving. She's far too happy that she is ruining your life. Her hair is thrown up into a messy gray bun, rosy cheeks adorn her face. You roll your eyes at the fact she's holding a ball of pink yarn, which she sets down on the rocking chair behind her. Beside your cheerful grandma, stands a tall, ginger man with a beard and gray hairs adorning everything. He wears big dirty fishing overalls and yellow rainboots. A fashion emergency, in your eyes.

You sigh. Climb out of the car. You allow an awkward hug between your grandparents, then walk back to the car to grab your suitcase. It lands on Gravel, the soft crunch ringing through your ears.

you glance up by chance at that beat up apartment. A curious face looks down at you. One with tan olive skin, dark brown eyes, black hair that sits in a messy bun. She gives a lame wave. You give a polite nod, wondering who this girl could be.

Later, you're walking by the docks. Trying to find at least one good thing about this place. You did. The water is warm, but it smells like fish everywhere you turn and it makes you nauseas. You're walking past a small dive bar, listening to the soft laughter within, when you look down to check your phone for the thousandth time to hear someone's voice. Soft, low, calm.

"You new here? Never seen you."

Her lips curl into a smile. Her freckles pop.

this must be the same girl from the window earlier. You recognize her.