I'm lying in bed, my phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through whatever comes up on my feed. The light from the screen glows softly in the dim room. My curtains are half-drawn, letting in just a sliver of the early evening sun. I can hear the distant sound of waves outside – calming, but not enough to drown out the thoughts running circles in my head.

It's been days since I last spoke to Noah. Days of silence. And I keep telling myself that it doesn't matter. That he can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants.

But it does matter. And I hate that it does.

Every time I close my eyes, I see him with her. Ava. Her perfect hair, her toned stomach, the way she practically draped herself over him like he was hers to claim. And the worst part is – he didn't seem to care.

I exhale slowly, dropping the phone onto my chest.

"Emma!" My mom's voice drifts up the stairs, followed by the sound of the front door opening. "Someone's here to see you."

I frown, rolling onto my side. "Who is it?"

"Why don't you come down and see for yourself?"

I groan but drag myself out of bed anyway, pulling on the oversized sweater that's hanging on the back of my chair. I pad down the stairs, rubbing at my tired eyes.

When I round the corner into the hallway, I freeze.

Noah is standing at the door. Hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, hair slightly tousled, and that same unreadable expression he always wears when something's bothering him.

My heart skips.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, crossing my arms automatically, leaning against the wall like I couldn't care less.

"I needed to talk to you," he says, his eyes flicking up to meet mine. "Can we... go somewhere?"

I glance at my mom, who's hovering nearby with that knowing look in her eyes. She waves us off with a small smile, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Fine," I mutter, slipping into my sneakers by the door. "But this better not take long."

We step outside, the air cooler than I expected. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the sand.

Neither of us speaks as we walk. Our footsteps leave soft imprints in the damp shore, the water brushing close but never touching.

Finally, I break the silence. "So?"

Noah stops, running a hand through his hair as he looks out at the horizon. "Look, I know you're upset. And I think I know why."

I scoff, kicking at a small shell near my foot. "Do you? Because it feels like you've been pretty busy hanging out with your fan club."

He glances at me, and there's a flicker of frustration in his eyes, but he reins it in. "It's not like that. Emma, I swear. Ava—"

I hold up a hand. "I don't want to hear about her."

"You kind of have to," he says, stepping closer. "If I don't explain, you're just going to keep thinking something's going on when there isn't."

I hesitate, but something in his voice makes me stay.

"Fine. Explain."

Noah exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Ava and I... we broke up months ago. But she hasn't really let it go. She's been showing up randomly, trying to act like things are the same." He pauses, scuffing his foot in the sand. "I didn't invite her to the beach that day. She just... appeared."

I don't say anything, processing his words carefully.

"And you didn't push her away," I point out, folding my arms tighter across my chest.

He looks at me then, eyes locking with mine. "I know. I should have. I didn't think it mattered, but I didn't realize how it looked. I'm sorry, Emma. I didn't mean to make you feel like... like you weren't important."

There's something about the way he says it that makes my heart twist.

I look away, down at the sand between us. The wind plays with the ends of my hair, lifting it gently.

"I just—" I pause, biting my lip. "I thought maybe I was stupid for thinking there was something between us."

Noah takes another step forward, close enough that I can feel his warmth, even in the cool air.

"You're not stupid," he says softly.

And suddenly, I feel a little ridiculous for making such a big deal out of this.

"I guess I overreacted," I admit, meeting his gaze again.

"A little," he teases, and for the first time in days, I smile.

His hand brushes against mine – not quite holding it, but enough to send a small spark through my skin.

"Friends again?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "I guess."

"Good."

We stand there for a while, just watching the waves.

"Hey," I say after a few moments. "You know... I could show you around town if you want. There's more to this place than just the beach."

Noah raises an eyebrow. "You offering to be my tour guide?"

I smirk. "Maybe. But only if you behave."

"I make no promises."

We start walking back toward the house, his shoulder brushing against mine. And for the first time in days, things finally feel right again.