When a shy girl from Figure Eight suddenly gets whisked into a dangerous treasure hunt involving four pogues known for their knack for trouble, she finds herself navigating not only the troubled waters of adventure but also the complexities of frien...
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The late-afternoon sun washed the lawn in gold, stretching long shadows over picnic blankets and foldable chairs scattered across the grass. The air smelled like salt and sunscreen, layered with the buttery sweetness of popcorn drifting from the food stand nearby. Laughter carried easily through the crowd, families settling in, kids darting barefoot between blankets, couples staking out their spots like they did every summer.
Sydney moved through it slowly, adjusting the strap of her white tote as she took it all in. Her faded blue sundress skimmed against her legs, brushing against her sun-warmed skin with each step. The breeze toyed with her wavy brown hair, lifting strands and letting them fall against her shoulders as she exhaled, steadying herself against the feeling of unfamiliarity.
This was the kind of thing she'd only ever watched from the outside.
An annual summer tradition—movies on the lawn, predictable and perfect—meant for Kooks and tourists. People who planned weeks ahead. Who showed up with coordinated blankets and coolers full of overpriced drinks, who knew exactly where to sit and who they'd run into.
Most summers, she barely thought about it. Until the night arrived.
She'd hear it through her bedroom window—the distant hum of the crowd, the faint echo of dialogue floating across the neighborhood. Proof of a world moving on without her. She'd stay curled up in bed, laptop glowing in the dark, Sunny tucked against her legs, pressing play on whatever Netflix suggested because it was easier than wanting to be somewhere she didn't belong.
She'd never had a reason to come before.
But this summer was different.
She stepped aside as a group of kids tore past her, barefoot and sticky with melted popsicles, their laughter sharp and unrestrained. Nearby, parents unfurled blankets, adjusted foldable chairs, and unpacked coolers with the ease of people who had done this a hundred times before. She could already picture how this night would go for them: half-watching the movie, sipping overpriced seltzers, trading updates on summer camps, boat repairs, and whatever gossip had trickled down from the country club.
She exhaled, shifting the weight of her bag on her shoulder. The Pogues were here somewhere, waiting for her.
It felt strange, standing here now, surrounded by something so familiar yet so foreign, when just hours ago, her day had started with a fight and her sneaking out to try and find the gold with the Pogues which had not gone to plan at all.
But what she hadn't expected—what still caught her off guard—was how easy it had been sneaking back in.
Her dad barely even looked at her when she walked through the door, a shopping bag hooked over her arm, the dress she had picked for Midsummers tucked neatly inside. He glanced up, eyes flickering over her like she was just another piece of furniture in the house—an object that existed, but not one worth paying attention to. He didn't ask where she had been. Didn't demand answers. Didn't scold her for disappearing like she had expected.
