thesidelines
They always called Maevis the "Summer Child." It wasn't just because she was born during the third week of June, right on the edge of the solstice, when the sun stayed high and the days felt endless. It was because summer lived in her-the way her laugh lingered like the scent of salt in the air, the way her skin turned golden with just a few days under the sun, and how her heart seemed to bloom only when her feet touched the sand.
Every year, as far back as she could remember, Maevis spent her summers in Cousins Beach. It was more than a vacation spot-it was a second home, the backdrop of every childhood memory worth keeping. Long days spent chasing waves, late nights whispering secrets on the porch, bonfires, lemonade stands, fireworks that made her heart race. It was all wrapped up in Cousins.
The Fishers were always there too. They were woven into her life like sun-faded threads-constant, comforting, familiar. She had known them for as long as she'd known how to swim, how to ride a bike, how to braid her hair. Back then, everything felt simple. Safe. Predictable. That was before she lost her mom.
Losing her mother had felt like someone stealing the sun from the sky. Even Cousins looked different after that. Dimmer. A little quieter. The ocean still whispered, but it didn't sound the same.
And maybe that's why, as summer rolled around again, Maevis couldn't help but wonder if anything would ever feel the same. If she could still be the Summer Child without her mom. If Cousins could still be magic without her. If the world she once knew was still waiting for her-hidden somewhere between the tide and the dunes.