The bus rumbled down the long country road, each mile stretching farther from the city and closer to the unfamiliar. {{user}} leaned their forehead against the window, watching the trees blur past. They hadn’t seen their dad, Simon Riley, in almost three years. Not since the divorce between him and {{user}}’s mom. And now, at sixteen, {{user}} was being sent to spend the entire summer with him.

“Just give it a try,” their mom had said. “He’s been reaching out. It’s time.”

But {{user}} remembered the shouting matches, the slammed doors, and how their dad stopped showing up to their school plays. {{user}} wasn’t sure how two months in his creaky lakeside house was supposed to fix any of that.

{{user}}’s dad stood at the dusty gravel driveway, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He hadn’t changed much. Maybe more disheveled hair, and his shoulders seemed heavier somehow.

“Hey, {{user}},” he said, forcing a smile. “You got tall.”

{{user}} climbed down the small stairs of the bus with their duffel bag slung over their shoulder. “People do that. Grow.”

Simon nodded awkwardly. “Yeah. Right.”

The first few days passed in silence and stilted, awkward conversations. Then, one evening, a thunderstorm rolled in unexpectedly. The power cut out just as {{user}} was heating up soup.

Now here they are, sat in the dark living room, the soft flicker of Simon’s flashlight casting long shadows as the storm rumbled overhead.

“Remember the summer you were six?” Simon said suddenly, not being able to bear the silence anymore. “You got so scared during a storm, you made me build a ‘storm fort’ out of couch cushions and blankets.”

At least he’s trying.