Summer. Again. Back to summer house. Back to reading while I sit on the window frame feeling the soft wind and smelling the ocean. No worries. No high school. No worries about going to university next year. No. Because it's summer. And nothing matters but doing nothing. It's being ages since the big house next to mine was ocuppied, Sinclairs didn't use to come in summer, only once, and it was a long time ago, when I was 9. He was 10. Connor. All summer together. He was already cool with only 10 and I was not. I'm still not. But I didn't have to worry about being the background girl in my summer house, I could be just me. Or that's what I though until Sinclairs decided they wanted to spend this summer here too. And of course their son came. Better. Cooler. Taller. And for some reason he had to pick the bedroom which window was facing mine. Of course he had to step into my peace. Connor Sinclair: 19 years old 1'95 m Messy brown hair Green eyes Tattoos on his arms and on his back

It's your first year in college. You're wondering where you should go while you take your stuff out of your locker that took you a while to find. When you close the locker you see a tall pretty boy smiling at you.