Cruel Summer | SIMBAR

1. Fever dream high in the quiet of the night...

The sea breeze hit Simón's face as he walked down the beach. The sun had set recently, turning the clear, turquoise color of the water in Cancún into a dark blue. It was probably time he returned home, he thought. But the salty scent, the softness of the sand under his feet; all of it was like a part of him and it made him feel whole.

He needed that feeling.

He had lost count of the number of times he had volunteered to take the dog out for a walk these past days just so he could breathe in the sea. It was nice, but it always ended the same way.

With a sigh, Simón rubbed the sand off his feet and put on the shoes he had been carrying in his hands. Staying here until late wasn't going to help. If it could, it would've done so by now.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and gave one last long look at the waves, willing their sound to drown his thoughts. He was turning around to leave when he caught sight of something. No, not something— Someone.

The skip of his heart wasn't something he could help or control. It had followed him around all summer, every time she was even mentioned, every time some seller by the coast offered handcrafted jewelry made of the semi-precious stone.

Ámbar.

Seeing her was a rare occurrence these days, and so much worse than just having to deal with the memories in his mind. She was walking in his direction, her gaze down, focused on how the breaking waves skirted close to her sandals and then retreated, never touching. Much of her skin was bare, covered only by a bikini as black as the night sky and short denim shorts. Her blond hair was loose and fluttering wildly from the wind. Her hand reached up to move it out of her face, and Simón remembered when it was him who did that.

That was then. Now was now.

When she saw him, she stopped on her tracks, clearly as taken aback as him. They looked at each other for a moment, then she turned to face the sea, her back straight, chin high. Her whole posture sent the message to just ignore her and keep going on his way.

Simón wanted to do just that ever since the moment he saw her. After all, they had managed to avoid each other for weeks now— They could keep doing it. But something pushed him to come closer instead. Maybe the exact same part of him that wanted to flee.

When he stood next to her, she made no sign of sensing his presence. He watched her profile, her gaze stubbornly fixed on the horizon.

"You shouldn't be here alone this late."

His words were only met with stoic silence.

His eyes stared at her on their own accord. There was a lot of exposed skin he wasn't used to seeing; he tried to ignore that. What he could not ignore, however, were the goosebumps on her arms—And everywhere he looked, now that he was paying attention. Being in the tropic, Cancún was always warm, but in winter, at night, and right next to the sea breeze, the temperature was as low as it could be.

"You look cold," he told her, but got no response. "Do you want my hoodie?" He offered, bringing his hands to its open front to take it off.

"No," Ámbar spat.

It was the first word she had said to him in weeks.

Simón hesitated, seeing small shivers in her body. "But the wind is blowing strong and you're—"

"What the fuck do you care?"

Her snap made him startle. His chest hurt— A quick pain that just as quickly turned bitter. He shouldn't be surprised. This wasn't the Ámbar he'd spent afternoons skating and talking with. This wasn't the sweet person he thought he knew. And even if she was, even if any of it was real, it was all too wrapped up in lies and revenges and heartbreak for it to mean anything positive in his life.