Chasing Sunrise: A Sweet YA Enemies-to Lovers Romance (Inn for the Summer)

by Sara Jane Woodley

  Is that what I think it is?

  “And now, we’ll introduce our student workers for the summer. Many of you have already met, but in case you haven’t, here they are!” Delia says.

  She starts announcing the list of students from Edendale High School, but it’s hard for me to focus when my curiosity is pulling me towards golden boy’s little black bag. I slowly approach, trying to glimpse the label on the side.

  “Kiara Garcia!” Delia calls my name and I snap to attention. Darn, just missed my chance.

  I make my way to the front of the room and stand next to the other students. I count five of us, so I wonder where Jonathan fits in.

  “At the last minute, we decided to hire a sixth student this summer — Jonathan Wright!” Delia answers my question and Jonathan walks through the crowd.

  My heart sinks to my toes. Jonathan Wright will be working here. It’s like having your best dream invaded by your worst nightmare. How could this get any worse?

  Jonathan comes to stand in the spot next to me and I refrain from stepping away from him.

  “The Inn has been doing extremely well in recent years,” Delia says. “It’s a testament to all of your hard work. We thought it was time to hire another student to help out.” The older staff members, the ones who are here full-time, cheer and applaud.

  Delia goes on, a big smile on her face. “Given how successful the Inn has been, we’ve decided…” Delia pauses for effect, gesturing towards Vin. “We want to take entirely new photos of the Inn and revamp our marketing and branding. We’ll also be posting new photos on our social media accounts daily!”

  I’m sorry, what? I had no idea Legacy Inn was considering a rebrand. I can barely contain my excitement.

  New photos of the Inn? Redoing all of their brochures with new images? Posting photos to their social media? This is the kind of exposure that can launch me into my future.

  My heart races. This project is exactly what I’m looking for.

  As my mind fills with images and possibilities of what I can do to capture the spirit of the Inn, I barely hear Delia’s next few words.

  “For this reason, we thought it would be fun to hire two student photographers this year.”

  My jaw drops and my hopes come violently crashing down around me.

  No.

  No no no.

  Delia pauses again, the room silent.

  My thoughts are an angry storm.

  Delia gestures towards me. No, not towards me. Towards me and him. “Jonathan and Kiara will be working together this summer to redo all of our imagery!”

  This can’t be happening.

  Jonathan opens the little black bag and takes out his very own camera. The same camera that I worked so, so hard to afford.

  My face turns white as a sheet and my legs go numb.

  Do I seriously have to spend my summer working with Jonathan fricking Wright?!

  11

  Jonathan

  My camera strap sits heavy around my neck as Delia continues on with her announcements. Oddly, I feel shy and uncomfortable standing at the front of the room.

  I’m no stranger to being in the spotlight. After every Eagles game, the school reporters come out to interview the team and take photos. Ironically, most of these game photos are taken by the very same person I’ll be working with this summer. She might be the only one who doesn’t make a big deal out of the Edendale Eagles.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the reporters are shameless. As the reigning MVP, I’m top of the list for an interview and I’ve been well-groomed to answer their questions. If I’m honest, I don’t feel I deserve the attention — my teammates are extremely talented players, many of them better than me. But, after every game, Lucas, Troy and I — the top striker, defender and midfielder — have microphones shoved into our faces from overeager student writers hoping to get a scoop.

  My MVP status really hit home, though, when people around Edendale began identifying me in the streets. It’s a small enough town that people follow the Eagles throughout the year, and more than a few times, I’ve been approached by strangers asking for photos or commenting on my game.

  The remoteness of Legacy Inn — located a 45-minute drive from Edendale — was definitely a perk.

  Now, instead of feeling breezily confident, if not a little bored, I’m nervous standing at the front of the room. I remind myself why I’m here — to pursue something that I’ve never had the chance to pursue. My parents are way too overbearing during the year to give me the chance to practice my photography. Working here as a photographer was the perfect, safe option.

  I glance down at my Fujifilm X-T4 and smile despite the rush of emotions. My grandad got me the camera a couple of years ago as a reward for my hard work at school. He was probably the only person who recognized that I’m more than just the star soccer player. In fact, he’s the only one that I shared this part of my life with.

  After what happened last fall, I shoved the camera into the back of my closet. But, when grandad passed away in the spring, I dug it back out. He always told me to do what I loved and his words are part of the reason I called the Inn on the off-chance they had a position as a photographer.

  I glance down the line of students as Delia rambles on. To my relief, none of them look shocked or surprised or confused. In my mind, I could picture their outbursts.

  “Jonathan, what are you thinking?”

  “You’re here to take photos? Hilarious!”

  “You’re a soccer player, stick to what you’re good at.”

  My tense shoulders fall as I register their smiling, or bored, faces. Maybe they don’t care.

  There’s only one grimace, and it comes from the person next to me. I can hear icicles forming around her. Everyone I’ve spoken with tonight is kind and welcoming, and their warmth is strongly contrasted with the chilly breeze emanating from Kiara.

  A feeling of discomfort tugs at me and I finger the buttons on my camera absentmindedly. Over the years, we’ve taken shots at each other whenever we get the chance, but I have no clue how she will react to this news. I keep looking at her to make sure she isn’t having a stroke.

  Finally, Delia steps off the stage. I turn towards Kiara, but before I can extend an olive branch, she stalks off.

  So that’s how it’s going to be.

  The crowd disperses into smaller groups, all happily chattering away.

  “Congrats, Jonathan!”

  I turn around to face Bree, one of the students from Edendale. She hangs out with the Eagles on occasion, but doesn’t seem particularly tied to any clique at school.

  “Thanks, Bree.”

  “I thought you were here to teach the kids soccer or something. This is not what I expected.”

  I chuckle, grasping my camera. “Maybe next year.”

  Bree laughs and we head for the food table talking about the Inn. My stomach rumbles as one of the staff sets out a new plate of cheese bread, salami, and other appetizers. Any tension I was carrying melts away. Maybe my schoolmates won’t be quite as discouraging as I feared.

  Most of them, anyway.

  12

  Kiara

  How did I not know about this?

  I follow Delia’s colorful dress through the crowd, trying to catch her. I didn’t hear a word of her speech after she announced that Jonathan and I will both be photographers this summer. I couldn’t move a muscle and my mouth dried up. I saw him shoot a few glances in my direction, but I was frozen.

  As soon as Delia left the stage, he turned to talk to me, but I had no time for his words. He was probably going to say something snide anyway, and I have much more pressing matters.

  Delia heads towards the DJ booth.

  I cut her off. I need answers. Now.

  “Uh, Delia?” I ask, my voice more hesitant than I intend.

  Delia spins, an enormous smile on her face. “It’s a lovely party, isn’t it?”

  “I think some wires were crossed.”

  “How so,
my dear?” Delia fiddles with her cowboy hat and waves distractedly at people across the room.

  “I was told I would be the only student photographer at the Inn this summer.”

  Delia nods her head and focuses on me, grabbing my hand. “Ah yes. We’ve been busy with the Welcome Bash. Your friend was a last-minute hire. I bet you’re excited to have him here!”

  Friend?

  “He called a few days ago,” Delia says, either not noticing or completely ignoring the disappointed expression on my face. “And I thought, wouldn’t that just be perfect? We’ve been wanting to take new photos of the Inn, and this way you don’t have the burden of doing it all yourself.”

  I stand straight and force a smile. “It’s definitely not a burden for me. I plan to become a photographer once I’m finished high school. This is exactly the sort of task I—”

  “You sound so professional already!” Delia laughs. “There’s time for work when you’re older. When you’re an adult.”

  “But—”

  Delia gestures wildly across the room, almost swatting some unsuspecting staff member in the face. “You should be having fun! Work, yes, but we don’t want you miserable while you’re here. The Inn is a place to work, but it’s also a place to play.”

  It’s nothing I haven’t heard before, and as always, the words bother me. People are always telling me that — I’m young, I should have fun. But there’s no time for that, not when I have a prime opportunity on my hands. I can have fun once I’m successful.

  Delia then stands straight, looking around. “And look at that, fate intervenes once again!”

  To my horror, she grabs Jonathan’s wrist as he walks through the crowd. He and one of the Edendale students — Bree, I believe — are cutting across the room with plates piled high with food.

  Delia grabs the plate from Jonathan and hands it to Bree. Grief flitters across his face as he watches his beloved food disappear.

  “I bet you’re excited to get to work with a friend from school,” Delia says. “And I want you both to enjoy yourselves, to really let loose. This is a night of celebration. So dance together and have fun!”

  Delia pushes us together and I raise my hands to stop us bumping into each other. In one seamless movement, Jonathan grabs my hands and starts doing an awkward jig. Not bothering to look at the car accident she just caused, Delia floats away, carrying Bree off to places unknown.

  “Did you hear that? She said the ‘F’ word.” Jonathan leans in. “Fun. Are queens even allowed to have fun?”

  Jonathan is surprisingly light on his feet, but I’m no slouch. I match him step for step. “You dance well,” I say. “Must be hard to balance with your extremely big head.”

  Without warning, Jonathan spins me, and just before I crash into the couple dancing next to us, he pulls me back into his arms. “Would you look at that? I saved you again.”

  I glare as he takes my other hand. There’s an insane friction between our palms, threatening to push us far apart as soon as the song is over.

  “Always the hero,” I say sarcastically. “So, I have a question I’m just dying to ask.”

  “Look, if you’re asking me out—”

  “No,” I say immediately. “Never that.”

  “Too bad. In the right light, you’re almost cute.”

  I keep my expression neutral. “I’m just wondering how it feels to not be attached to a soccer ball? Disorienting? Lonely, perhaps?”

  I see what I think is a hint of a smile, but before his face breaks, he dips me. He drops me so low to the ground it feels like I’m falling. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Queen feels threatened. Her throne of photography is being challenged by a humble commoner.”

  I snort. It’s decidedly unfeminine.

  Not that I care how feminine Jonathan thinks I am.

  "You’re not humble, golden boy,” I snap. “And threatened? By you? You wouldn’t last a day working as my assistant.”

  Jonathan spins me again. This time, he sends me careening into the food table —

  And then pulls me back just before I take flight over the appetizers.

  “Didn’t think a Queen would need an assistant,” he says.

  I’m close to him now, one of my hands resting on his surprisingly strong shoulder. “Assistants are the best part about being a queen,” I say. “Do you know what the second-best part is?”

  His hand slides over my hip and onto my lower back. “What’s that?”

  “When your assistant can’t keep up, you get to take their head.” I stare deep into his eyes. “But don’t worry. I’ll let you live.”

  The music slows and he pulls me close. Our footsteps mirror each other. We’re surprisingly in sync for two people who hate each other so much.

  “Don’t take it easy on me, Your Majesty.” His voice is low. “I think you’ll find I’m quite the competitor.”

  We stare into each other’s eyes, both refusing to look away as the world stops around us.

  Whoever breaks first, loses.

  And there’s no way I’m letting Jonathan break me.

  13

  Kiara

  There’s a loud shatter as someone accidentally drops a plate.

  Jonathan and I look towards the crashing at the same moment.

  He releases me, and without a second glance, heads towards the tables where the Edendale students are devouring appys. “See you around.”

  Everyone mingles, enjoying themselves. Music pumps through the speakers, people dance and laugh. I stand silently in the middle of the floor, still shaking off whatever just happened with Jonathan.

  What was that crazy feeling?

  Did he feel it too?

  No. Couldn’t be anything. Just hunger, probably.

  I meander to the food table and load a plate with Chef Fernando’s mac and cheese bites, some veggies, and a piece of lasagna before heading to an almost-empty table. Almost empty, except for Bree.

  “Mind if I sit?”

  “It’s a free country,” Bree says, not unkindly.

  I take a seat and attack my lasagna with the ferocity of a starving coyote. I’m shoving the pasta in my mouth so fast that I’m probably wearing tomato sauce as lipstick, but I don’t care.

  “Kiara, right?” Bree asks, looking decidedly bored. “What do you think of the Inn so far?”

  I shrug, wiping my face with a napkin. “Cabin’s cute, bugs aren’t bad, Delia’s a character.”

  “That’s putting it lightly,” Bree says, chuckling. She looks out over the room, her next words an afterthought. “I don’t know where my parents found her, but she’s sure made a difference. They don’t talk about it much, but we were struggling for a bit before she came along.”

  Bree’s parents own the Inn. From what I’ve heard, they’re flashy people, often on the road promoting the Inn or one of their other businesses.

  Bree and I don’t talk much at school. While I’m usually hanging out with the artsy kids, Bree floats from group to group, getting along with everyone. With her rose-gold hair and bright blue eyes, she’s effortlessly beautiful. And she’s got a wild streak — I’ve heard she’s skipped school almost as much as she’s attended — but she’s able to charm her way into or out of most situations pretty easily.

  Now, she seems distracted, looking around the room indignantly. We exchange a couple more words and then fall into a comfortable silence, which suits me as I’m too busy sulking.

  This job was everything to me, the perfect summer opportunity to build up my portfolio for next year. And now, I just feel trapped and hopeless, thanks to fricking Jonathan.

  Even a mountain of cheesy pasta can’t improve my mood. I capture another few shots of the group having a good time, then leave.

  I follow the path back towards the cabins, my distress transforming into stubborn determination. So Jonathan and I will both be photographers this summer. That doesn’t mean we have to work closely together. If anything, it’s an opportunity to shine, to
showcase my skills compared to someone who has no clue what he’s doing. Maybe this will push me to work harder, to take the best possible photos here at the Inn.

  It’s pitch black when I reach our little cabin community. The lights from the gravel path cast shadows across the area, and the cabin windows are dark. The hulking, black shapes look haunted in the darkness. Anything could be hiding here.

  I shiver, then immediately chide myself for playing on childhood fears of the dark.

  Still…

  They are creepy.

  I climb the steps to my cabin and the wood creaks under my foot.

  Suddenly, something large scurries out from around the corner of my cabin.

  I shriek.

  It’s a bear!

  No.

  It’s a…

  It’s a…

  It’s a Jonathan.

  I swear so loud that people on the other side of the state cover their ears.

  Of course he’s here. Why couldn’t I have a little time to myself? A little time away from him?

  Jonathan makes a face and rubs his ear. “Way to deafen the entire Inn, Garcia.”

  I’m both relieved and angry that he’s not a bear. Relieved, because of obvious reasons. Angry, because it would’ve been better to be eaten by a bear than scared by Jonathan.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Well, if someone wasn’t so busy sneaking around our cabins at night, I wouldn’t need to deafen anyone. What’re you doing anyway? Checking to make sure your precious soccer jersey isn’t being ruined by the fresh mountain air?”

  Jonathan rolls his eyes so dramatically that I can see the move through the darkness.

  “It’s not really any of your business, is it?” He hops up the steps to his cabin, located next to mine. Of course. Delia’s done an excellent job throwing Jonathan into my life at every opportunity.

  His voice is mocking. “So we get to be photo buddies this summer. Should be fun. Maybe I can show you a thing or two?”