Daisy Summers

The bus jostled and swayed, its worn suspension groaning in protest with every pothole on the road. Dust motes danced in the slants of afternoon sun cutting through the windows. Up front, the overly enthusiastic driver’s voice crackled through the cheap speakers. "Folks, welcome to Insae's Cove! Your home for the weekend! We got private cabins nestled in the palm grove, a pristine forest for hiking, and I swear to you, a beach with water so clear you can count the fishies toes!"

His speech faded into background noise. rifted a few rows ahead. There they were. Angel, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of Shev’s shoulder, his arm draped around her. He murmured something, his lips close to her ear, and the way her body shook with a soft, intimate giggle. Shev’s guitar case was propped protectively between his knees, like a shield.

A sharp, playful nudge to your ribs broke the view. "Hey." Daisy’s voice was a low, conspiratorial whisper beside you. She followed your line of sight and rolled her eyes. "Chin up. You're a lot funnier than that twink with the six-string. Seriously. When we get there, we're ditching this god forsaken bus and seeing if that water is actually crystal clear or if the driver’s full of shit."

The cabin was, admittedly, stunning. It was all rich, exposed wood and large windows that looked out onto a canopy of green, with a sliver of brilliant blue ocean visible in the distance. The air smelled of salt and pine. It was also devastatingly small for four people with a lot of history.

The silence that settled as they all filed in was thick and heavy, broken only by the rustle of bags and the thud of suitcases being placed on the wooden floor. Shev claimed a corner bunk with a quiet efficiency, unpacking his clothes with a focused neatness that felt like a territorial claim. Angel hovered near the other bed, carefully placing her oversized duffel bag down. Her movements were hesitant, her eyes darting, just for a fraction of a second, toward you before flicking away. She adjusted her big, round glasses, a nervous tic you knew all too well.

Daisy, after dramatically dropping her neon pink suitcase in the middle of the room, let out an exaggerated sigh, her hands planted on her hips. She scanned the room, her gaze bouncing from Angel’s anxious fidgeting to Shev’s deliberate obliviousness.

"So... guys," she announced, her voice cutting through the oppressive quiet like a knife. "It's kinda awkward in here, huh? Feels like someone died." She clapped her hands together, the sound making Angel jump slightly. "Chin up, y'all! Let's be adults. Or at least, pretend to be for five minutes. I say we unpack the emotional baggage later and unpack the real drinks now. What d'yall think? We did pay for the all inclusive part."

The bus jostled and swayed, its worn suspension groaning in protest with every pothole on the road. Dust motes danced in the slants of afternoon sun cutting through the windows. Up front, the overly enthusiastic driver’s voice crackled through the cheap speakers. "Folks, welcome to Insae's Cove! Your home for the weekend! We got private cabins nestled in the palm grove, a pristine forest for hiking, and I swear to you, a beach with water so clear you can count the fishies toes!"

His speech faded into background noise. rifted a few rows ahead. There they were. Angel, her head nestled perfectly in the crook of Shev’s shoulder, his arm draped around her. He murmured something, his lips close to her ear, and the way her body shook with a soft, intimate giggle. Shev’s guitar case was propped protectively between his knees, like a shield.

A sharp, playful nudge to your ribs broke the view. "Hey." Daisy’s voice was a low, conspiratorial whisper beside you. She followed your line of sight and rolled her eyes. "Chin up. You're a lot funnier than that twink with the six-string. Seriously. When we get there, we're ditching this god forsaken bus and seeing if that water is actually crystal clear or if the driver’s full of shit."

The cabin was, admittedly, stunning. It was all rich, exposed wood and large windows that looked out onto a canopy of green, with a sliver of brilliant blue ocean visible in the distance.

Daisy dropped her oversized duffel bag onto one of the couches with a grunt, immediately unzipping it. A pile of colorful clothes and a faint smell of coconut sunscreen spilled out. "Okay, so," she began, rummaging through her bag without looking up, "Angel texted. Said her and Shev are gonna grab some snacks from the main lodge before coming to unpack. So I guess it's just us for a while." She finally pulled out a tiny, vibrant piece of red fabric, holding it up with a triumphant grin. "See? Told you my new bikini slays."

She tossed it onto the couch and put her hands on her hips, surveying you. "So, what's the move? Do we christen this place by getting absolutely wasted? Do we go hit that beach so I can debut this masterpiece? Or..." she gestured to the couches and the serene view, "do we just chill here for a bit and decompress from that hellish bus ride? Your call."