Page 57 of Before We Were

One day at a time.

The cravings still hit like a freight train sometimes, especially when the noise gets too loud. But I'm holding on. By my fingernails some days, but I'm holding.

One step, then another, then another.

Even when your mind's screaming at you to just lie down and fucking quit.

I toss off the covers and swing my legs out of bed, muscles protesting as I stretch. By the time I'm downstairs, Ollie's voice booms through the house, yanking me firmly into the present.

"Nate! Jake!" His shout cuts through any remaining fog. "Get your asses downstairs. We're leaving in ten!”

I pull on a fresh t-shirt, the fabric still warm from the dryer, and jog down to meet them. Today's about starting fresh—just skating, surfing, being the kids we used to be. The simplicity of it feels exactly like the cleanse I need. No drama, no heavy shit, just the open road and waves. Ollie's already in the kitchen, his broad frame taking up too much space as he slings a protein bar my way.

"About fucking time," he jokes, eyes crinkling at the corners. I catch the bar mid-air but drop it on the counter.

“You need it. You're looking a bit outta shape there, Natey boy." There’s a familiar smirk playing on his face.

I roll my eyes but can't help laughing. We both know I still have the physical edge on him. Jake stumbles in, hair a mess, barely awake, but the energy in the room instantly lifts him.

"Lads day out, just like old times," Ollie declares, tossing another protein bar at Jake.

Just like old times.

The car buzzes with the old thrill of anticipation as we pile in, the leather seats still cool from the morning air. Jake takes the wheel while Ollie lounges in the passenger seat. It doesn’t take long for Ollie to break the silence.

"Sooo, Mia,” he teases. “Thoughts?”

I scoff, raising an eyebrow. "Didn't take you long, did it?"

He tries to shrug it off, but I catch the flush creeping up his neck. Jake chimes in from the driver's seat, "I saw those looks you were giving her. All puppy dog eyes and shit."

“Well you haven’t met her. She's not just cute," Ollie admits, his voice softening. "She's off the charts. Fun, smart, beautiful. How many girls can you say tick all those boxes in one hit?”

I can think of only one.

"You're whipped, my guy," Jake adds, grinning at our friend.

Ollie's laughter fills the car, but there's a vulnerability in it I rarely hear. “I think I like her. A lot. She's different, you know? Not like the usual crowd."

I nod, understanding exactly what he means. Even though I haven't met her, I trust Ollie's judgment—he's always had a knack for seeing through people's facades.

“Well man, she sounds like a winner then," I say, clapping his shoulder from the backseat.

His expression shifts, becoming more serious as he turns to me. "What's up with Farrah, Nate?"

The mention of her name tightens something in my chest. My situation with Farrah is nothing but complicated—a tangled mess I'm not ready to unravel. "Nothing," I reply, the word coming out too quick, too defensive.

Ollie's gaze sharpens. "Nothing as in nothing's new, or nothing as in you two are nothing?"

Jake's trying to contain his laughter now, the car vibrating with his suppressed chuckles.

I exhale, long and heavy. "It's nothing serious. We're just... you know."

"A fling that's lasted over two summers?" Jake's voice drips with skepticism.

"She knows it's nothing serious," I insist, the words sounding hollow even to me. "It ends when summer does."

"Sure," Jake drawls, his knowing grin reflected in the rearview mirror.

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