Hurricane Summer

7

The next morning, Tilla awoke to the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore. The storm had passed, leaving the world outside fresh and glistening. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm rays across the room. She stretched and took a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of hope.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Mia called from the kitchen, her voice cheerful. "We made pancakes!"

Tilla jumped out of bed, her stomach rumbling at the thought of breakfast. As she rushed down the stairs, the smell of syrup and freshly cooked pancakes filled the air. Her father was flipping pancakes at the griddle, and their father's laughter mixed with Mia's chatter created a comforting atmosphere.

"Morning, Tilla!" their dad said with a wide grin. "You're just in time! I made your favorite—chocolate chip!"

Tilla's eyes lit up as she grabbed a plate and helped herself to a stack of fluffy pancakes, drizzling syrup generously on top. "Thanks, Dad! These look amazing!" she exclaimed, sinking into her seat.

They chatted and laughed over breakfast, and for a moment, Tilla felt as if the storm had washed away her worries. She savored each bite, the sweetness of the pancakes bringing comfort. It was moments like these that reminded her of the warmth of family, a safe haven amidst uncertainty.

After breakfast, Tilla decided to head to the beach. The waves were calm, glistening like jewels under the bright sun. She felt a surge of excitement as she walked along the shoreline, her feet sinking into the warm sand.

"Mia, let's go for a swim!" she called, turning back to her sister, who was still collecting seashells.

"Okay! Just give me a minute!" Mia replied, her eyes sparkling with determination.

Tilla smiled and made her way to the water, the cool waves lapping at her feet. As she splashed around, she felt a sense of freedom that she hadn't experienced in a long time. The salty air filled her lungs, and she allowed herself to let go of her worries, at least for now.

As she floated in the water, Tilla spotted the group of kids from the other day. They were playing beach soccer, their laughter ringing out over the sound of the waves. A wave of anxiety washed over her. Would they remember her? Would they still want to include her after the chaos of the storm?

"Come on, Tilla! Join us!" one of the boys shouted, noticing her hesitation.

Tilla's heart raced, but she felt a surge of courage as she swam toward them. "Okay!" she called back, her voice gaining strength.

As she approached, the kids welcomed her with open arms, and Tilla felt a sense of belonging wash over her. They started a new game, kicking the ball back and forth, and Tilla laughed as she dove to catch it, the thrill of the game igniting a spark within her.

"Nice kick, Tilla!" one of the girls cheered as she scored a goal.

"Thanks! I didn't know I could kick like that!" Tilla replied, her confidence blossoming.

They played for what felt like hours, the sun beating down and the salty air filling their lungs. Tilla felt more alive than ever, each kick of the ball pushing her fears aside. It was liberating to be part of something so joyful, so carefree.

As the game wound down, they flopped onto the sand, panting and laughing. "That was so much fun! We should do this every day!" one of the boys said, brushing sand off his legs.

"Definitely! Tilla, you should come with us tomorrow!" another girl chimed in. "We're planning to have a beach barbecue!"

Tilla's heart soared. "I'd love to! Just let me know what to bring!"