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

by Sara Jane Woodley

  It’s not that Jonathan’s a bad person, he’s just… fake.

  It’s past midnight and I’m sitting on my bed scrolling through the photos I’ve taken this evening. The first garden party of the summer was an absolute blast, to my surprise. But my mind is long-gone, given to a memory.

  Though Jonathan and I have never been close, the first blow was dealt a couple of years ago, back when we were freshmen. It was the first Eagles game of the season, and it was my first job as a photographer for the school newspaper.

  It was Jonathan’s first game — he was one of two freshmen on the varsity team. In elementary school, he was the quiet, dedicated soccer kid who got pulled out of school for training and who got everything he wanted from his doting parents. At Edendale High, he’d quickly become one of the up-and-coming players for the Eagles.

  It didn’t help that he’d transformed from awkward boy to teenage heartthrob virtually overnight. And me? Still mousy, clumsy, and insecure.

  After the game, he was hanging out on the field with his teammates and the reporters for the school paper.

  And I was late.

  “Sorry!” I yelled as I caught up with the group.

  The reporters — mostly seniors — rolled their eyes. They’d wrapped up their interviews, so the players were waiting for photos. A senior I didn’t recognize pretended to tap an imaginary watch on his wrist.

  Flustered, I set up my camera on a tripod, then called the Eagles to attention.

  “Guys?” My voice was quiet. Photography was my passion, but I still felt shy and unsure of my abilities. “Sorry, would you mind just—”

  “Jon, this is dope!”

  A player pushed past me and almost knocked over my tripod. My camera was only a point-and-shoot, but it was still precious. I dove and caught it just before it crashed to the ground.

  “Watch it, Lucas,” Jonathan said. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me. “You good, photo girl?”

  I blushed furiously and set my tripod back on its feet. My cheeks burned as all of the hot soccer players stared at the awkward girl with the camera — me.

  “I’m fine.” I cleared my throat.

  Jonathan smiled. My heart nearly burst and my legs went numb. Remember, this was back when I still thought he was kind.

  And that’s when everything changed.

  The soccer player who almost destroyed my camera, Lucas, was the only other freshman on the varsity team. And he was clearly the only one who knew who I was.

  He turned to me and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about her, Jon. She’s just the photo chick. You’d think she’d make more of an effort to protect her camera, given that it’s her one and only friend.”

  The seniors burst into laughter.

  My cheeks flamed red, and I wished I could disappear.

  My eyes met Jonathan’s, and he sheepishly turned away, laughing quietly with the rest of the group. My voice had left me, and within moments, tears filled my eyes. I ran full-speed off of the field.

  It took months for me to brave another Eagles game, but that moment changed me. From then on, I dove into my persona as a photographer. I took my mom’s advice and shamelessly pursued my future. I was going to show them all — Lucas, Jonathan, everyone — that the “photo girl” would succeed.

  Since then, I have had a singular goal — to get a job as a photographer and get out of town right after graduation.

  As bad as that moment was, the aftermath was worse. Lucas became known around school for being a player and an all-around jerk. In a way, I didn’t have a bone to pick with him — put simply, he’s mean and doesn’t hide it.

  But Jonathan? He’s worse.

  He may not have said the words that broke my heart and made the entire team laugh at me, but he went along with the joke. That side of him is a betrayal — the side that laughs at the expense of others, that can’t stand up for people when it matters the most. And yet, Jonathan is known around school for being “kind” and “nice”. Edendale High’s golden boy.

  In the past, I’ve tried to explain my side of the story to friends of mine, but no one believed that Jonathan would ever behave that way.

  No one but Ava. It’s no surprise that we became friends.

  And it goes further than that. I’ve heard he gets stopped by strangers around Edendale, obliging their questions and photos. If you believed the rumors and town gossip, Jonathan Wright can do no wrong.

  The only funny aspect, albeit morbidly so, is that he and his buddies think they’re so smart. Lucas coined the oh-so-clever “Kiara the Queen” nickname last fall. But don’t they know that calling me “Queen” demands respect?

  The moon shines bright through my windows, and I switch off my camera with a sigh. The uncomfortable memory fills me with dread and determination, but this evening, I feel something else.

  Seeing Jonathan struggle with his camera today was weirdly eye-opening.

  In that moment, he wasn’t the Edendale High golden boy, and he wasn’t the jerk from the Eagles. He was just a guy, completely confused and out of his depths.

  I remember meeting his gaze by the lake earlier, and when he danced with the elderly lady tonight at the garden party. That was a Jonathan Wright I don’t know or recognize.

  So who is he, really?

  19

  Jonathan

  “Oh, Jonathan!” Delia’s sing-song voice reaches me from across the staff room.

  I look up from the bagel I’m devouring. After missing breakfast yesterday and being ravenous until lunchtime, I’m not making the same mistake twice. Wes and I are eating together. Kiara is nowhere to be seen. Probably late, as usual.

  Delia swoops across the room, her cowboy hat almost blowing off in the breeze of her stride.

  “There you are!” She stops in front of our table.

  “Gotta go,” Wes blurts, dismissing himself before Delia can launch into her latest request.

  Delia pats him on the shoulder as he takes off. “Don’t forget your whistle, my boy.”

  Wes lifts his lifeguard whistle from under his shirt and salutes her. I stifle a snort. Delia means well, but she sure acts like a drill sergeant at times.

  She turns her sparkling green gaze on me. “Jonathan, today is a perfect opportunity to get some gazebo photos. Kiara is there now, and I wanted to make sure you’ll be headed there as well and not to the lake or the garden. Best to strike while the iron is hot!”

  I scramble to my feet, downing my orange juice and the rest of my bagel in one gulp. “Already on my way.”

  “Good.” She smiles. “Now, I need to find Noah. That boy works too hard. He volunteered this morning to help Fernando. Can you believe it?”

  Delia’s off before I can respond.

  I grab my camera bag and head outside. My thoughts race, and my stomach churns the bagel and orange juice uneasily. The last time I felt this nervous, I was standing in the locker room before my first soccer game at Edendale.

  Okay, day two, Jonathan, you can do this.

  Kiara’s challenge echoes in my mind. I told her I was quite the competitor, but would I actually be able to keep up? My heart sinks. It’s only day two and I’m already behind.

  “You got this, dude,” I mumble to myself as I jog through the garden.

  “Someone there?” A bush yells.

  I jump with the grace of a startled cat. When I land, I see that no, obviously, the bush didn’t yell. It was Nath.

  I pretend to clutch my chest. “I think — I THINK — my heart is still beating.”

  Nath’s sunhat pokes over a pink rosebush. She emerges and takes off her gloves. “Just keeping you on your toes. Vin calls me low-budget espresso. I’m good at waking people up and getting their hearts racing.”

  “Can’t disagree with that.”

  Behind Nath, another person appears from the bush. The woman is in her late-30s and her black hair is cut in a bob. Her eyes are kind but sharp.

  Nath turns towards the woman. “Randy, this is the
kid I was telling you about — Jonathan.”

  Randy crosses her arms and smiles. “What’s the soccer player doing with a camera?”

  “It’s a mystery to us all,” Nath says in a stage whisper.

  I laugh. I’m the furthest thing from a mystery. Except to myself, maybe.

  “Nice to meet you, Jonathan.” Randy smiles warmly and extends her hand. I shake it and can’t believe how firm her grip is.

  “You too. Anyway, I gotta go, duty calls.”

  I continue to the gazebo, picking up my pace. Warm sunlight bounces radiantly off the lake. I don’t think anyone could ever get tired of a view like that.

  Kiara’s in the gazebo lining up a group for a photo.

  I groan. She’s going to give me a hard time. Again.

  “Making a habit out of being late, golden boy?” She keeps her voice low so the subjects can’t hear.

  “Are photographers supposed to be on time? From seeing you at Eagles games, I thought that punctuality was optional.”

  She rolls her eyes dramatically and adjusts her XF 56mm lens. “I’m never late for people and things I actually care about.”

  My mind rolls through a handful of half-clever responses when she suddenly turns towards me, her face the mask of suspicious innocence. “Jonathan, why don’t you take the photos here today?”

  My jaw drops. Her voice is polite, professional, and just loud enough for the group in the gazebo to hear. She’s trying to make me look like her assistant. Behind her, the group is shifting from foot to foot, waiting for us to get started.

  “That’s not a great idea,” I stammer, trying desperately to think of an excuse. “I don’t know if that lens will fit my camera.”

  As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I regret them. Her face relaxes into a half-smile. She’s got me and she knows it.

  “Don’t be silly. We have the same camera. And the same lenses.”

  Before I can even pretend to think of another excuse, she takes the lens off her camera and steps back. “Go on.”

  Dread falls over me like a weighted blanket. Yesterday was my first day attempting serious photography since last fall. In my cabin this morning, I practiced taking a few shots and switching out my lenses, but I still feel shaky. Add on to that the pressure of having Kiara and the guests watching me? It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  Delia’s words echo in my mind about striking while the iron’s hot. What if I mess up this opportunity? I’d never hear the end of it from Delia. Or Kiara.

  Can I risk it?

  “Scared?” Kiara faces me so the guests can’t see her conniving smile. “If you give up and admit defeat, I’ll help you out. Teach you a thing or two.”

  Scared?

  Give up?

  That kicks my butt into gear. Sure, the photos I capture might not be perfect, but better to dive in and drown than admit defeat. I puff out my chest and stand up straight, striding confidently to the group in front of the gazebo.

  “Okay, you two on the ends, I want you guys to move in.”

  I direct the group to rearrange themselves, placing the tallest people in the middle instead of the edges. I make a few more adjustments and tell one of the women to brush a stray hair from her face.

  “That’s a lot of confidence for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing,” Kiara says.

  I won’t let her get to me. “It’s good that you’re staying to watch. You might learn a thing or two yourself.”

  I fiddle with my own XF 56mm lens for a moment, struggling to get it on the camera. My palms are sweaty as the nerves take over. The pressure of Kiara’s gaze isn’t helping.

  "Do you need a hand? We don’t have all day, after all.” Her voice is sweet as sugar. She leans casually against a tree, her arms crossed.

  “Well, that’s just not true,” I say. I smile at the guests. “The beauty of a vacation at Legacy Inn is that we have all the time in the world.”

  The group chuckles and I know I’ve won this round.

  A victorious smile crosses my face as the camera shutter clicks.

  20

  Kiara

  “So… how does it feel to work with Edendale’s star midfielder?”

  Bree sets her plate down next to mine on the table. Across from us, Stefi and Anaya take their seats, and we all tuck into our breakfasts. As always, the chat turns to Jonathan.

  “More and more of his goldenness is rubbing off on me every day? Can’t you tell?” I bat my eyelashes like a cartoon princess.

  Bree and Anaya snicker, and a smile crosses Stefi’s face.

  Just four days into our time at Legacy Inn, all of Edendale’s rules have been broken. The four of us would never sit together at school. But Anaya joined us for breakfast yesterday and we’ve fallen into a good flow.

  “I bet he knows exactly what he’s doing, that one.” Anaya smiles. With her long dark hair and gymnast's figure, Anaya was a shoo-in for cheerleader in her freshman year at Edendale High. She joined the squad and stayed through sophomore year, but she dropped out in junior year. She says she couldn’t stand the drama that came with being a cheerleader.

  “It’s just—” I shove a piece of bagel into my mouth, pondering what I want to say. “He’s got it all so easy. I can’t imagine a world where Jonathan fails. And even if he fails, he’s got a golden safety net.”

  “Ki. You know we love you—” Bree starts, putting her hand on my wrist.

  “We’ve only been hanging out for the past, like, 72 hours.”

  She ignores my interruption. “You’re taking all of this too seriously. It’s time to let go. Relax. Maybe knock him off his pedestal a little or something.”

  Anaya and Stefi are both nodding at me, like wise owls.

  Ugh. First Delia, now these guys. Why is everyone so obsessed with me enjoying myself this summer?

  Anaya looks around conspiratorially, then leans in. “Guys, I need to ask your advice. It’s Daniel. What do you think about…”

  Anaya’s voice fades into the distance. It would be nice to have a little fun this summer. Imagine, for just one second, being as carefree as Jonathan seems to be every single moment. Who says I can’t get the job done while having a little fun on the side?

  The thought of having fun is enough to recall the stern-faced image of my mom. She frowns and tells me to focus on my future.

  My shoulders slump as I finish my breakfast. Fun? That’s a pipe dream. Someday, when I’m successful, I’ll come back here as a guest. Then I’ll have more than enough fun for everyone.

  After breakfast, we say our goodbyes and I head outside to find my absolute favorite person.

  It doesn’t take long to spot the golden boy, with his matching golden hair, over by the gazebo. I puff out my cheeks and exhale in a huff.

  Another day of working with Jonathan Wright. Ever since he vowed to keep up with me, I’ve been throwing challenge after challenge his way. I’ve put on the pressure, given him a hard time, and left him with difficult tasks.

  Tasks he shouldn’t be able to accomplish.

  But he’s keeping up.

  Which means I need to try harder to throw him off.

  I would never admit it, but I’m actually impressed by how dedicated he’s been to photography. Ever since the Welcome Bash, he’s held his own. Even when he's fumbling with lenses, you can tell he’s putting in an honest effort.

  And as for his natural charm? That makes my job a lot easier.

  “Yo, golden boy,” I call out as I approach Jonathan.

  He turns, a halo of sunlight behind him. I shake my head, confused, until I realize that the light is reflecting off the lake water. He literally looks like he’s glowing.

  I jog over to escape the trick of the light, and I’m surprised to see he’s wearing a hoodie with his board shorts. I don’t hate the look, especially because he looks so much less pretentious than he does in his polo shirts.

  “How much damage have you done this morning?” I ask as he fiddles with on
e of his lenses.

  “Hmm, must be hard,” he says, not bothering to meet my eyes.

  “What?”

  “Just like, being so on all the time.” He finally looks at me with a passive gaze. “It’s exhausting just listening to your voice.”

  I place my hand on my hip and raise my eyebrows. “Fortunately for you, only one of us needs to be on to do this job right. Why don’t you play with your little soccer ball or whatever?”

  “I can’t. It’s wedged under your cabin.” A slight smile crosses his face. “Come on, Kiara the Queen. You know you’re allowed to have fun, right?”

  That is it! My cheeks turn bright red and I finally explode.

  “What is with everyone? Why is everyone ragging on me to have fun? What’s the deal?!”

  I glare at Jonathan, waiting for him to give me an answer. To my satisfaction, he looks taken aback. Serves him right.

  “You know you’re more than just your work, right?”

  His words send weird goosebumps over my skin. I open my mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. My throat is dry and, for once, I’m speechless.

  A group of guests approaches from the Inn, snapping me out of the moment. Everyone wants photos at the gazebo, and we’ve gotten used to the morning rush.

  But even as guest after guest passes by in a blur, Jonathan’s words echo through my mind.

  I’m more than just my work?

  21

  Kiara

  “Say Legacy!” I call out to the two girls standing on the dock.

  Click. The camera captures the shot, and I check it out on the screen. But something isn’t right.

  I glance towards my subjects. The twins can’t be more than 5 or 6 years old, and they won’t stop moving around. In fact, the issue is that the girl on the right is less of a girl and more of a blur.

  “Mom, can we play in the lake yet?” The girl on the left calls out, drawing out the “o”.

  The twins’ mother stands to the side, speaking in hushed tones to her husband. Upon hearing her daughter’s voice, she whips around, her short, carefully coiffed hair barely moving.