This summer was going to be the summer I fell in love for the first time. 

I underlined it twice at the top of the first page of my fresh new diary, for emphasis. I love the first page on a blank diary—it's endless possibilities, but more than that, it's destiny. A new diary is manifesting that something interesting will happen to you soon, something worth writing down. 

That was something I needed in my life. So I wrote a line of prophecy, a promise of what was to come. Made it past-tense so there would be no arguing with it, no chance to wiggle out of it like the shy little girl I'd been before. No, this summer would be different, and I was willing to do whatever I had to in order to fulfill my little prophecy. 

I was off to a pretty good start already. 

The diary was a part of the shopping spree my older sister, Lena, had taken me on when I'd come begging her for help like she was some fairy godmother. She'd thought the diary was a little childish among the makeup, jewelry, and clothes, but I'd insisted. Ever since I'd watched The Princess Diaries I was determined to keep one of my own, and started a new one with every school year and summer vacation. I didn't really ever complete them, as each school year and each summer proved to be no different from the mundanities of the previous that weren't worth recording. The half-empty diaries sat in a sad glittery pastel stack on my bookshelf, never to be filled. But I couldn't give up the practice, not now that there would finally be something worth recording!

"Hey, are you ready yet?"

Before I could hide the diary and pink pen with the little puffball at the top in my dresser, Lena barged in.

She was my fabulous, gorgeous older sister—as always. Her delicate silver hoops matched the slender silver chain with a single pearl around her neck and the strappy silver sandal heels she carried in one hand, her dark brown hair in perfect beach waves that framed her face perfectly and a pale blue ruffled dress that complemented her tan skin and dark eyes—they all came together to form possibly the most glamorous older sister in the world. 

The few times I complained to my mom about having to compete with Lena, Mom would tell me that it wasn't a competition, and Lena was two years older than me besides. So she was always going to be more glamorous, more in her element. But the thing was, I never remembered her having an awkward phase like me, where she was wearing the same uniform of a pastel beach shirt, a worn-out hoodie worn every day after the back-to-school shopping haul, and jeans or long-shorts, depending on the weather. She was never shy, at the back of the classroom with a book or manga, unable to look the boys she liked in the eye.

Lena had always been the way she was now, at eighteen, or so it seemed to me. Beautiful bold, all of it effortless.

Maybe that was why I'd never asked her before now. Because I thought she didn't need to work hard to be that way like I would, so she wouldn't be able to help me. 

Lena, of course, thought differently. 

"Are you really writing in your diary when you're about to go to the first real bash of the summer?" She crossed her arms. "Just sitting there writing things isn't going to make them happen. Come on, stand up, let's see the fit."

I reluctantly closed the diary and got off my bed. She circled me, her dark eyes narrowed in concentration as she scanned up and down. I was wearing some platform pink flip-flops with an orange and pink floral dress I'd picked up in one of the beachside boutiques earlier in the day, and accessorized with a pink flower clip, an anklet, and some golden hoops I'd borrowed from Lena's jewelry box. 

"Not bad." She nodded in approval. "Is your phone charged?"

"Yes, Mom," I shot back. "Since when were you the responsible one?"
Lena snorted and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Always have been, Mom and Dad just never realized how responsible I've actually been."

Her expression then grew serious. "Now, Mika, remember to keep a hold of your drink, and if you lose it, find a new one, don't take any rides from anyone else at the party, and if you lose me, take a rideshare home. It's better to pay a little extra to make sure you get home safe."

"I will." It was already starting to sound daunting. Maybe it would be better to stay home, put on Gilmore Girls or The Summer I Turned Pretty and make cookies. Maybe this whole falling-in-love business was still beyond me. Maybe—

"And Mika?"

I braced myself for more cautionary advice. "Yes?"

Lena grinned. "Have fun, okay?"

I squared my shoulders back and answered solemnly. "Okay."

Growing up in Wilmington, beach parties and boat parties were a fact of life. I hadn't really been to many though, and certainly none like the one my sister took me to that night. I still remember pulling up to the marina and seeing other glamorous teenagers like Lena trailing down the docks into the Sirena.

"The party's there?" I looked wildly between the boat and my sister, then back again. "You said this was a boat party—that's a yacht!"

Lena just laughed.

"How did you even get invited to a yacht party?" I craned my neck to get a better look. "We don't know yacht-rich people!"

"You don't know yacht-rich." Lena booped my nose with her finger. "I know a friend who knows a friend—and that friend, is yacht-rich."

I shook my head, a hurricane was rising from the pit of my stomach. "I don't know about this—I thought this would be like, on a pontoon with some of your friends from class."

"I don't have class, I graduated, remember?" Lena pulled her keys from the ignition and grabbed her purse from where she'd stowed it by my legs in the well of the passenger seat. "And I do know some of them from school, promise."

That didn't make me feel any better.

"Come on, don't get cold feet on me now, Mika." Lena opened the door. "You're here, and I can't leave a child unattended in the car, so you might as well come with."

I stuck my tongue out at the mention of her calling me a child. Even if it was true that at sixteen, I was a child and she was an adult now.

"Look, you want to have a summer romance, you've gotta put yourself out there." She leaned back into the car. "We didn't go shopping earlier this morning just for you to wear all those new clothes to the library and the house."

Her voice softened. "Look, I know it seems intimidating, but fake it til you make it, right?"
"Right," I said in a small voice. I grabbed my own purse, slung it across my body, and joined her outside.

"Atta girl!" She clicked the button on her key-fob that locked her car. "Now let's go have ourselves a yacht party!"