The waves rolled gently onto the shore, the sky painted in soft oranges and pinks as the sun dipped toward the horizon. It was the kind of evening that made everything feel slower, calmer—perfect. Jake, 19, sat on a beach towel, sunglasses on, scrolling through his phone with his feet buried in the warm sand. The sound of the ocean mixed with distant laughter and the occasional call of seagulls.

Raelene, also 19—but a few months older, as she never let him forget—stood a few feet away, her hair pulled into a messy braid, wearing an oversized tee over her swimsuit. She turned back from where she’d been walking along the waterline and saw Jake still glued to his screen.

She raised an eyebrow and walked over.

“Jake,” she said, hands on her hips. “Really?”

He didn’t look up. “What?”

Raelene reached down and snatched the phone out of his hands before he could react.

“Hey!” he protested, scrambling up. “What was that for?”

She held the phone up, smirking. “You’ve been on this thing the entire time. We’re literally at the beach. Do something. Move. Breathe.”

Jake crossed his arms, half-annoyed, half-amused. “I was breathing, thank you very much.”

Raelene rolled her eyes and tossed the phone gently onto their bag. “Go touch grass. Or in this case, sand.”

He raised a brow. “You’re bossy for someone who’s older by, like, four months.”

“Four and a half,” she corrected with a grin. “Now come on—let’s do something. Go swim with me. Or build a sandcastle. Or literally anything that doesn’t involve you staring at memes.”

Jake sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if I get salt in my eyes, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll survive,” she laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

(Sorry I haven’t been active)