isabel scorpio girl<3

 ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢

YOU GET ME .02

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Chris pov

It’s been six days since the beach.

Since I saw her.

And I haven’t slept right since.

I’ve been telling myself it’s nothing. That my mind isn’t stuck on her. But every night proves me wrong—tossing, turning, flipping my pillow over a dozen times before giving up and crashing in Matt’s or Nick’s bed like I’m ten years old again.

Truth is, I’ve never liked sleeping alone. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have someone next to me. Having someone to hold.

“Yo, you going to that party tonight?” Sam asks, breaking into my spiral.

I rub my hands over my face and lean against the kitchen counter, trying to ground myself. “I don’t know, man. Not really feeling it.”

I open the fridge and grab a bagel. I’m halfway through tearing it open when Matt snorts behind me.

I glance up. “What?”

Matt smirks, leaning casually against the doorway like he knows something I don’t. “Didn’t Sam tell you where it is?”

I shoot Sam a look. He shrugs.

“It’s in Manhattan Beach,” Matt says, dragging out the words. “You wanna go, bro.”

Shit.

Maeve might be there.

I clear my throat, trying to play it cool. “What time you heading out?” I ask Sam.

Matt walks off, laughing under his breath. Asshole.

I let Sam sit there with his confused expression, not offering any explanation. No way I’m telling him about the girl I haven’t stopped thinking about since watching her cry near the shoreline. I don’t even know her.

Which is the most ridiculous part.

The thing is, I’ve never had a girlfriend. Never wanted one. I’ve always been the guy who kept things simple—hookups, parties, no strings. No good morning texts, no meeting parents, no awkward couple photos.

I liked it that way. No feelings. No mess. No one to disappoint, no one expecting more than I was willing to give.

“I’ll swing back around eight,” Sam says, pulling out his phone. “And we’re definitely Ubering. I’m getting hammered tonight.”

I laugh, tossing the bagel onto a plate. “Yeah, alright.”

I try to act like it’s no big deal. Like I’m just going for the free booze and maybe a game of pong.

But the truth is, if she’s there—I already know I’m not leaving early.

Maeve pov

The blast of cold air-conditioning hit me the second I stepped back inside. My tank top clung to my back, damp with sweat from my five-mile run, but it felt good—like I’d shaken off at least some of the noise in my head.

I padded barefoot into the kitchen, the tile cool under my feet, and sat down at the counter with a bowl of granola and fruit. I had barely taken two bites when I heard my dad’s footsteps behind me.

“Ethan called,” he said casually, not even glancing up from his phone. “Asked for permission to take you to a party tonight. I told him yes.”

I froze mid-chew. “What?”

He looked up for a brief second, completely unfazed. “What? He’s a good kid. You know me and his dad go way back.”

“Yeah, but why is he calling you?”

Dad shrugged. “He wanted to be respectful. I told him you’d be ready by eight.”

I set my spoon down slowly, eyebrows drawing together.

Ethan’s not just some guy I’m seeing. He’s Ethan Sinclair. His family’s name is stamped on half the land between Venice and Redondo—strip malls, luxury condos, overpriced juice bars. Our dads have been in business together for years. Us dating always felt more like closing a deal than falling in love. Sometimes, it feels like my parents are the ones dating him, not me.

I rinse my bowl in the sink harder than necessary.

“Great,” I mutter.

I can already hear the music in my head—the same kind of shallow beach party with red Solo cups, Instagram stories, and fake laughter. I’ve done it all before.

But I haven’t been in the water yet today.

I glance toward the window. The ocean always clears me in a way running doesn’t.

I toss my hair into a bun and grab my board from the garage. If I have to plaster on a smile and show up tonight like the perfect, polished version of myself, I’m going to need at least an hour alone with the waves before that.

The sun is further up then id like by the time i get to the beach. as i hit the water i feel the coldness hit my skin.

he tide was decent—clean sets, just enough movement to push against. I didn’t hesitate. No warm-up, no overthinking.

I stay in the water for around an hour clearing my head.

As i step out i feel my cheeks burning slightly with a sunburn. I walk up the beach and see the volleyball net i fought with Ethan on.

i mentally grown as i look at it and turn around to face the water.

my mind drifts elsewhere.

Chris.

Last time i stood here he came up to me and asked if i was okay. I knew he wasn't from the beach almost insatiately because of the way he checked up on me.

I think about his shaggy dark brown hair and crystal blue eyes. they reminded me of the water.

His baggy dark clothes reminded me of the city.

I think about how he called me pretty before shaking my head seeing my phone ring.

Ethan<3: Gonna be at your house around eight. Wear something sexy tonight;)

Shit.

Chris pov

I stand outside this party lighting a cigarette

"How do you know this guy again?"

Sam shrugs

"Recorded something in the studio. Some rich kid. " Sam chuckles finishing his beer.

I laugh shaking my head. I look around at the massive house. You can practically hear the waves we are so close to the ocean.

"Let's go" Sam says walking towards the house. i drop my cigarette putting it out.

Maeve pov

The party sucks.

Same group of people. Same small town energy. Same loud music that tries too hard to distract from the fact that we’ve all grown up knowing way too much about each other.

I nurse a tequila sunrise, leaning against the edge of the kitchen counter. My eyes scan the crowd until they land on Ethan.

He’s laughing at something Jessica said—of course it’s Jessica. Dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin. One of the many girls who used to wear his sweatshirt in high school and post selfies in his car.

I watch the two of them for a second. He’s standing a little too close. Her hand lingers a little too long on his arm. I don’t feel jealous exactly. I wish I did. It’d make more sense.

But mostly, I just feel embarrassed. Because he’s my boyfriend, and he’s flirting with someone else right in front of me like it doesn’t mean anything. Like I don’t mean anything.

I walk over and wrap my fingers around his arm, not yanking, just enough to break whatever bubble he thinks he’s in.

“What are you doing?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

Ethan glances at me, visibly annoyed. Jessica rolls her eyes and disappears into the crowd.

“Got a problem?” he slurs, swaying slightly as he turns toward me. He’s clearly drunk—his breath reeks of whiskey and cheap beer. He hiccups, then lazily lets his eyes drop to my chest before dragging them back up to my face.

My stomach turns.

I take a slow sip of my drink, trying to keep my voice calm. “I just don’t think it’s cool to flirt with your ex while your girlfriend’s standing right here.”

He lets out a dry laugh, like I’m being dramatic.

Absolutely — here’s the continuation, with Ethan crossing the line, Maeve pushing him off, and a tense but electric moment on the porch when she runs into Chris:

He hiccups again, eyes glazed, and lets out a low laugh. “Relax, Maeve,” he mutters, leaning in like he thinks this is all some kind of game.

Then his hand reaches out—slow, clumsy—and grazes across my waist, his eyes dropping to my chest like he forgot we weren’t alone. Or worse, didn’t care.

I flinch back, heart pounding. “Ethan—don’t,” I snap, swatting his hand away.

He tries again, stumbling closer, fingers grazing my side like I’m some object he’s owed for showing up.

“Stop it,” I say sharply, pushing him off.

“What?” he slurs, brows pulling together. “You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

The heat rises in my face—rage, humiliation, disgust. I shove his arm hard enough that he stumbles back into the counter. My drink sloshes over the rim, but I barely notice.

“stop,” I spit, chest tight, throat hot.

I turn and push through the crowd before he can say another word. The music is too loud, too fake, too much. I need air. I need space.

I shove open the door and stumble onto the porch, the cold night hitting me like a slap.

And then I see him.

Dark shaggy hair. Baggy dark clothes.

Leaning against the railing, half in shadow, cigarette between his fingers—Chris. The boy who comforted me at the beach.

My heart stutters.

He glances up through the smoke, eyebrows lifting slightly.

“It’s you?” I breathe, a little too shocked to hide it.

Chris exhales slowly, the edge of a smirk tugging at his lips like he’s not sure if this is a good thing or not. “Maeve.”

I cross my arms, still catching my breath, still shaking.

He notices.

“Maybe to comfort you again,” he says softly, voice dry but not unkind, taking a drag from his cigarette like he’s trying to lighten the air between us.

I huff out a small laugh, barely there, shaking my head. “You shouldn’t smoke,” I murmur, eyes trailing to his mouth without thinking. “It’s bad for you.”

His eyes catch mine—sharp, focused—and he watches me watching him.

Then, without a word, he pushes himself off the wall and steps closer. He flicks the cigarette down onto the concrete, crushing it under his shoe. Smoke still clings faintly to the air between us.

“I know,” he says, voice a little quieter now. “Some habits are hard to break.”

We’re standing close now. Close enough that I can smell the salt in his hair and the faint cologne he's wearing. My breath catches.

“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” I say, voice soft.

He shrugs. “Didn’t expect you’d need someone.”

I swallow hard, suddenly aware of how long I’ve been trying to hold it all together.

“Guess I do.”

He nods once, slow, his eyes never leaving mine. “Then I’m here.”

I hear the party swell behind me, the bass thumping louder, voices rising with it.

“Chris,” I say softly, glancing back toward the noise.

“Maeve.” His brow lifts just slightly, and then we both hear it—Ethan’s voice, drunk and slurred, yelling my name from inside.

I exhale, the tension in my chest climbing back up. “You shouldn’t be treated like that,” Chris says, voice low, steady.

I nod. I know he’s right.

Ethan yells for me again. Louder this time.

“I—I have to go,” I murmur, stepping back.

Chris shifts, like he might stop me, but doesn’t. Then— “Wait… take my number.”

I freeze.

He looks just as surprised as I feel. Like the words fell out of his mouth before he had time to stop them.

I hesitate. I should say no. I have a boyfriend. Technically.

But instead, I take his phone, type in my number, and hand it back.

“I gotta go… Bye, Chris.”

“Bye, Maeve,” he says, smiling as he slips his phone into his pocket. It’s the softest smile I’ve seen from him yet. It lingers in my chest even as I run back inside.

—

Ethan’s stumbling near the kitchen, eyes glassy, lips stained from something dark and sugary. I grab his arm.

“Did you get in a fight?” I ask, dragging him toward the door.

“Kid deserved it,” he mumbles. “Was causing trouble.”

I shove him into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him.

“Where were you?” he hiccups, slumping against the window.

I tense. My hands clench around the steering wheel.

“Outside. Getting some air.”

Ethan groans and mutters something incoherent as I pull away from the curb.

I drop him at his house without a word, watching him fumble with the doorknob before I drive off. The second he’s out of the car, I feel lighter.

—

Later that night, I lie in bed, wide awake.

I can still see Chris’s face in the porch light. The way he looked at me like he meant what he said. His ocean-blue eyes haven’t left my mind since.

I stare at the ceiling, heart thudding with the weight of everything I didn’t say.

I think about breaking up with Ethan. About how complicated it’ll be. About how long I’ve known it’s over.

My phone lights up beside me.

Unknown Number: You looked like you needed saving tonight. Next time, let me.

My heart stutters.

It’s Chris.

And I already know—there will be a next time.

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Part two!!! Lmk what yall think. Sorry it took me so long i was feeling lazy after the chapter deleted the first time lol

Character Introductions

introducing…..

MAEVE

20, strict wealthy family, in a relationship, too nice, works at a surf shop, looking for something more, grew up on the beach

CHRIS

21, never been in love, films videos with his brothers, obsessed with maeve, doesn’t care that she’s in a relationship, does what he wants, sweet on the inside just no one gets to see it. (does smoke in this au!)

part one is out now!! will be posting part two in a bit

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