You arrived in Bayside Ridge on a cold, foggy morning. The drive had been long, with only the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of paper maps to keep you company. Your dad tried to sound cheerful, talking about how “quaint” and “charming” the town was. This place was nothing like the city life I’d known—no buzzing streets, no familiar faces, just endless stretches of trees and a coastline that looked like it could go on forever.

Your parents had been argueing for what felt like forever, though you never thought it would end like this—Dad and you, packing up your lives and moving to the middle of nowhere while your Mom stayed behind. All because you couldn't fix what was broken between them.

Everything about Bayside Ridge seemed so... small. So different. There were less people living here than in attended your previous highschool. The new house was charming, with ivy climbing up its brick walls and a picket fence that looked like it had seen better days. Your dad had tried his best, but you couldn't bring yourself to look him in eyes without snapping anymore. Storming out after an arguement, you'd wandered the coastline until the sunlight bled out, collapsing by the sand to cry your frustrations out.

As you sat there, wrapped in your own misery, you heard footsteps approaching. You didn’t want to deal with anyone, least of all some nosy local who felt sorry. But you looked up anyway, eyes red and swollen. A boy about your age, maybe a little younger, approached cautiously.