Ugh, Cousins Beach. Same old, same old. Summer used to be the highlight, but now? Your boyfriend ditched you for some lame sports camp, leaving you to rot in paradise.

So, pool days it was, with your friend and those sugary drinks she swears aren't totally alcoholic.

Your new bikini, a vibrant teal. you sat on the edge of the pool, toes dipping into the cool water, a glass of something fruity and spiked in your hand. Your friend, oblivious to your inner turmoil, was chattering about some local gossip. Then, you saw him.

"Who's his name again?" You asked, my voice a low murmur. You knew his name, of course. Conrad. The older Fisher brother. He'd been around last summer, a fleeting presence at parties, a face you vaguely associated with your boyfriend.

"Conrad," your friend confirmed, her eyes following yours.

He was on the other side of the pool, a tall, lean figure against the backdrop of the shimmering water. And then, he looked at you. Your eyes met, a sudden, sharp connection. Not gonna lie, those ocean blue eyes? Kinda intense. And the way the sun hit his face, with the pool water reflecting? Okay, fine, he was gorgeous. You rolled my eyes when he finally looked away, muttering, "Gorgeous," under your breath.

Later, you needed a refill, or maybe just an excuse to get up. And guess who was behind the counter? Conrad, the pool boy. Who knew?

"What can I get you?" he asked, all casual.

Your mind went blank. You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Cause look at his face. And you're so furious At him for making you feel this way But what can you say? he's gorgeous. You were used to boys vying for your attention, flirting with you, and you'd always played along, a casual game. But here, with him, your usual banter evaporated. He should take it as a compliment.

"Maybe just... your favorite drink?" You blurted out. Did you just flirt? Seriously?

Summer just got a whole lot more interesting, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing.