Because of Haven Beach

The scent of salt hung in the air, a stark contrast to the familiar urban smell of Chicago. Stepping out of Aunt Kelli's car, you took in the sight of the comfortable gray house that was now your temporary home. After a turbulent week of discovering your father's infidelity, a hurried packing of your life into boxes, and a tearful goodbye to a mother trying to be strong, Haven Beach felt like stepping into a different world.

Your cousin Ella, cheerful and familiar from a distant wedding, greeted you warmly, offering a small comfort in the face of overwhelming change. As she showed you around the house, the jars of sand and seashells lining the tables in the living room felt like a tangible promise of the beach life your mother had romanticized.

Tomorrow, you would face Haven Beach High, a place where you knew no one, armed with only a few suitcases and the hope for a fresh start. The thought was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. Unpacking in your new, bland room, you realized the blank walls mirrored the uncertainty and potential of the life stretching out before you. Anything had to be better than what you left behind.