Chase Wilson wants nothing more than to get out of Port Haven. After getting into too much trouble back home, what would be a vacation for most people is nothing more than a punishment for Chase - a summer spent in the godforsaken little beach town...
last update was a bit late so decided to post this one early. if anyone wanted to do read for reads as well, feel free to message me!
thanks for reading (:
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04
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"YOU DIDN'T TELL me we'd be going for a hike."
I stopped, glancing back at Chase as he trudged behind me.
"For a football player, you're pretty out of shape," I noted. He was halfway up the hill, a bead of sweat rolling down his head as the morning sun bore down on us. But it didn't matter too much; we were almost there and the ocean on the horizon was beginning to peak from over the hill.
When I reached the top, I stopped, taking a moment to breath it in. This was home, I thought — a clear view of the whole town, of the docks and the pier below, of the people laughing, talking, living, and of the sea. Miles and miles of sea. That, I thought, was more freedom than Chase might have ever seen in his life.
I turned around to face him just as he sidled up beside me.
"So?" I said. I spared him a sideways glance as he took in the view. "What do you think?"
"It looks like Port Haven, but from above."
I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest and plopping down onto the grass. It was mildly wet from the morning dew but I didn't mind. Chase didn't, either, because he quickly took a seat beside me. Probably only because he was worn out from the hike up, but I tossed that out of my mind.
"It's cool, though," he added, after a brief silence. "The...water, and whatever."
I grinned. I accepted this as Chase's own, strange way of agreeing with me: this was what made Port Haven, well...a haven.
"I used to come here with my dad when I was little," I said, before pointing to the series of docks on the ground below us. "Port Haven is kind of like an in between. There aren't any big ports for miles, so a lot of people come here if they need to refuel, or if they need food, or if they just want to get out and stretch their legs for a bit. So we used to come here and sit and just watch. It's pretty easy to tell whether the boats have experienced captains, or if they've only recently become one."
I glanced over to make sure Chase was still listening, only to find that he was staring at me. Ears perked, head tilted — he reminded me of a dog.
"How do you figure that?" He said, after a lull.
"Well..." I turned away, the weight of his gaze suddenly heavy. I wasn't sure if it was because Chase was a stranger to me, or if it was because...I shook my head slightly, as if to shake off the thought. "Docking is a pretty hard skill. When someone doesn't know how to do it, they'll mess up quite a bit. Once, we had to close down the docks for a whole day because some guy accidentally rammed his boat right into one. He sunk his boat and nearly took the dock with it — " I laughed. "It was funny, but a big hassle. Oh, and another time — "
