𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

The beach buzzed with the energy of teenagers reveling in the moment, indulging in alcohol beyond their years. Amy Covey perched on the steps of her beach house, where her mother hosted a sophisticated gathering for adults. Absorbed in her thoughts, she glanced down at her phone, a cup in hand. Her reverie was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a curly-haired boy dashing past. Coming to an abrupt halt before Amy, he flashed her one of his most charming smiles.

"I can't believe you'd rather be here when there's a big party right there," the boy scoffed, gesturing to the bustling section of the beach filled with teenagers, music, alcohol, and food.

Amy's eyebrows shot up in recognition of the voice. It was Michael Henderson, or Mike as everyone called him. He looked striking in a fashionable white shirt, complemented by a sleek black tie and matching sleeveless jacket.

"And I can't believe you're wearing this thing," Amy retorted, casting a critical eye over his attire.

Mike glanced at himself and shrugged. "I'm dressed like this because my dad insisted I play waiter for your mom's fancy shindig."

"It's not that fancy," Amy disagreed, smiling gently.

"Then why the need for a waiter?" Mike gestured at himself, lips pursed.

Amy conceded with a shrug. "Touché."

A smile tugged at Mike's lips. He picked up a tray from the nearby table and extended it towards Amy. "A drink, miss?"

"No, thank you," Amy replied, lifting her own glass. "I've already got everything I need."

Mike took a sip from her glass and raised his eyebrows. "Apple juice, seriously?"

"What? It's delicious," Amy defended with an innocent shrug.

Mike closed his eyes momentarily, shaking his head. "You're adorably too innocent. I'll slip you some vodka once I finish serving the crowd. And by 'crowd,' I mean your mom's friends."

As Amy stood up, she observed Mike a bit closer and noticed the bruise on the corner of his left eye and on his right cheek, along with his cut lip.

"Hey, what happened?" Amy asked with concern.

Mike hesitated for a moment before letting out a small laugh. "Oh, this? It's nothing, just... you know, my father."

"Again, seriously?"

"Yep," Mike confirmed before heading inside to attend to the guests. Amy let out a resigned sigh, opting to retreat to her room to comply with her mother's insistence on wearing a white dress she brought for her last week.

Meanwhile, Mike soldiered on, wearing the most counterfeit smile he could muster as he attended to the guests. After completing his rounds, he slipped out of the house to take in the beach view.

"For God's sake, where have you been?" Mike heard Miguel's voice call out. The Mexican boy approached his friend, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his suit.

"Why are you so hot? You're not even on duty," Mike remarked, gathering up glasses from the table.

"Uh, yes, I am. I thought it was unfair for you to have to work while we're all having fun at the beach, so I hustled and found a job too. No need to thank me, Mikey," Miguel replied, flashing a grin as he joined in to help collect the glasses.

Mike paused, shooting Miguel a quizzical look, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Seriously?" Miguel nodded, prompting a chuckle from Mike as he set the tray down. "That's ridiculous, but thoughtful of you. Thanks."

As Mike continued tidying up the table, Miguel's gaze lingered on him. When he noticed the bruises on Mike's face, his brows furrowed in concern.

"Alright, I'm going to grab a bite. If you want something," Mike said, swiveling around to face Miguel.