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CHAPTER ONE
Amber hopped down from a haphazard pile of driftwood and peered off across Lake Michigan, watching the sunset spill its reds and oranges across the dark water.
At her back, Harborside was already tucking itself into bed. There wasn’t much to do in her hometown—it was mostly filled with boring old shops and creeps walking around with big maps, listening to murder podcasts. But Amber did love this beach. The summer wind blowing off the lake was already cooling down the evening, and she was happy she’d remembered to grab her hoodie.
The crowd of swimmers and beach volleyballers was already disappearing behind her as she trudged through sand in the opposite direction, the distant cheers swallowed by the gentle lapping of waves and an occasional bark from her dog, Cooper. Amber giggled at the big, dumb yellow lab. His tail was wagging at an almost dangerous speed as he trotted ahead along the shoreline.
“Cooper,” she called, knowing the cheeky mutt would ignore her. “Cooper, get back here!”
Amber smiled as he barked at a bug crawling toward the water, batting it with his paw before the next distraction drew him away.
“Are you even listening to me?” Jaclyn, Amber’s friend, snapped her attention back to their gossip. “I asked if you saw what Bethany is wearing.”
Mild curiosity grabbed Amber as she picked up the perfect stone to toss into the lake. Meanwhile, Jaclyn huffed in frustration as she struggled over a tree trunk. They had been coming to this beach all their lives, yet Jaclyn still had trouble navigating nature.
Feeling unusually gracious, Amber decided to humor her. “No, what?”
“It’s the sluttiest bikini I’ve ever seen!” Jaclyn threw her arms into the air, her body exploding with the news. She often made comments like that, and Amber picked out a slight twinge of jealousy in her tone.
“Sounds about right for Bethany.” Amber tried to stifle a chuckle, grabbing at Jaclyn’s mouth to bring her volume down. Jaclyn tended to shout her opinions, and while Amber loved her candor, she didn’t want anyone overhearing what they really thought of their mutual friend.
Amber could appreciate a good slutty bikini, but wearing one was an art form and Bethany was no artist. She didn’t understand that deciding when to wear a swimsuit was almost as crucial as the choice of swimsuit itself. For Bethany to wear something like that at Whittler’s Cove, at night, was a bold statement.“Bethany’s probably still trying to ride Abigail’s brother. I saw them there too.” Jaclyn rolled her eyes at how obvious Bethany was being. She was normally too savvy to do something as stupid as wearing a string bikini in early summer.
“Probably. She’s gone into whore hyperdrive since graduation. Abigail’s brother is pretty hot, though.”
“Oh, is he? I guess so…”