Along The Distant Shore

Chapter 1

The Beach

The sand always found its way between my toes, clinging to my skin like the memories I thought I'd left behind. I can still feel the salty breeze tangling through my hair as I ran along the shore, wild and free, as if the ocean itself breathed life into me. The cold Atlantic waves never failed to jolt me awake, sending shivers through every inch of my body, reminding me I was alive in a way only the sea could. And by the end of the day, the sun would leave me a little redder, a little more worn, as if marking me as its own. Those were my summers—my earliest memories of home.

Maine was where I spent every summer, until everything changed. My parents' divorce came like an unexpected storm, sweeping me away from the only place I ever felt like I truly belonged. I was just fourteen when I moved away, forced to leave behind the shore, my friends, and my dad. It's been nine long years since I last saw any of them.

Much to my mother's dismay, I left college after two years of chasing a degree in English Lit at Boston college. She never understood. I needed more than books and classrooms; I needed to live. YOLO, I'd said to her—though it felt more like a search for something lost. And that's how I ended up here, in the car, heading back to Bar Harbor. My mother, seated beside me, gnaws nervously on her nails, her eyes flicking between the road and me, as if she's bracing herself for what's to come.

I stared out of the window, watching the city lights fade into the distance as we left it all behind, inching closer to a place I hadn't called home in years. The dark highway stretched ahead, but my mind lingered on the past.

"So, you're gonna call me every day, right?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Don't 'Mother' me, River. We've never been apart for this long."

I glance at her, the guilt twisting in my chest. She's right. We haven't. "I know, I'm sorry," I mutter, my voice soft with regret. This must be harder on her than I realized, considering everything

She nodded, only half convinced, her eyes lingering on me a second too long before flicking back to the road. The conversation fell into an uneasy silence. The tension hung between us, thick and heavy, like it had been for weeks. I knew what she wanted to say, what she'd been holding back, but I couldn't bear the thought of it right now. All I wanted was a summer—just one carefree summer.

"I—" she started, her voice hesitant.

"Mom," I interrupted softly, my voice shaky. "Please. I'm only going to be gone for three months. I'll be back before you know it, okay?" I swiped a tear from my cheek, hoping she wouldn't notice.

My mother and I had never spent more than a week apart since I was born. This was going to be difficult—for both of us.

"I know, baby. I'm just going to miss you, that's all." She reached over, placing a hand gently on my cheek, her thumb brushing the spot where my tear had fallen, before returning her gaze to the road.

For a moment, it feels like we can breathe. But then I hear her tapping her nails against the steering wheel, a nervous habit she can't seem to break. I take a deep breath, bracing myself.

"So... have you decided if you're going to work at Coastal with Chelsea this summer?" she asks, breaking the quiet again.

At the mention of Chelsea, I couldn't help but smile. Chelsea had been my best friend for as long as I could remember—the kind of friend who didn't need constant contact to feel like family. Our parents had been close, and we were born just three months apart. We spent our first 13 summers together, and even after I moved, we kept in touch. Some called her "wild," but that was what I loved most about her. Her parents owned the best bar in town, Coastal Cove. She'd already told me I could pick up a few shifts there, and I was definitely taking her up on that. Not only because she was my only friend left, but because maybe, just maybe, it would make the summer pass a little faster.