Saugeen Beach, Ontario, Canada

Sunday, July 3rd 2022

Prologue

Noah

The beach was louder than it needed to be.

Someone had brought a speaker. Someone else was arguing about whether the last point counted. Sand clung to my calves, my shoulders burned, and my pulse felt too fast—but that was normal. That was how things were supposed to feel.

Alive. Competing. Winning.

I laughed when I lost the point anyway.

I didn’t notice him at first. Not consciously. But something pulled at my attention, like my body knew before I did. I glanced toward the edge of the crowd, expecting to see someone I recognized.

Instead, I saw him.

He wasn’t cheering. Wasn’t filming. Wasn’t trying to join in. He stood still, hands loose at his sides, like he’d been placed there on purpose. Calm. Watching.

I held his gaze for half a second too long before looking away.

It annoyed me—how aware I suddenly was of myself. Of my stance, my breath, the heat crawling up my neck. I told myself it was nothing. Just a stranger. Just the sun.

Still, my timing slipped after that.

When the ball went flying out of bounds, I sprinted after it without thinking.

Elias

Elias had told himself not to watch.

He’d been standing there for ten minutes already, pretending to listen to his sister, pretending the game didn’t matter. But the boy in the center of it—laughing, loud, reckless with his body—kept pulling his attention back like a tide.

There was something unguarded about him. Not careless. Just open. As if he didn’t expect the world to punish him for taking up space.

Elias noticed the way he competed even when it didn’t matter. The way he smiled when he lost. The way people leaned toward him without realizing why.

He knew better than to stare.

But then the boy turned.

Their eyes met.

Elias should have looked away. He knew that. He always knew when to withdraw. Yet something in the boy’s expression—confident, curious, unafraid—held him there.

Just for a moment.

Just long enough for Elias to think, with quiet certainty, This will not end well.

When the ball flew loose and the boy ran straight toward him, Elias stepped back too late.