Summer Hearts

two souls, brought together.
two hearts, struggling to mend the other.
two bodies, fighting for a single moment together,
two minds, one stubborn, the other egoistic.
One confession and One secret, that could mend or break their hearts.
They have sixty days to mend a broken promise and a broken heart. Will this Summer decide the fate of two hearts, or pass by like every other? Even if it does, will it be called Love? Everything comes with a price.


2. Trick me once, I'm done.




 Chapter 01 | Summer Hearts 


   The last thing anyone would want is to be ditching their summer plans and going out on a long—a really long—trip with their family, and much worse when they do not even know where they would be going.

   That anyone is I.  

   Mom casually came into my room and asked me to pack, saying we will be leaving for a ‘nice, small vacation’ out of town tomorrow morning in order to reach our ‘destination’ in time.

   I had plans for my summer. I was surfing on my laptop for affordable motels in London when mom barged in and asked me to start packing. She should have told me about this ‘trip’ a week ago or probably just asked me if I had any plans for the summer or if I would like to spend some time with them, out of town.

   No, she just comes into my room a night before we are leaving to inform me that, ‘Honey, we’re going on a trip. Pack your stuff now, because we’ll be leaving at the break of dawn tomorrow.’

   I am now sat, staring at the closed door ahead of me, blinking constantly letting the information digest in me. She’s mom and I cannot argue, first basic moral of our house. However, I wanted to scream.

   I quickly pull out my phone and dial the person who could understand me the best at the moment, he picks up in four rings, and I scream into the phone, “Can my summer get any worse?”

   “Whoa, relax woman, what happened?”

   “I- I… ugh, Nathan, I can’t come.”

   “What… why?”

   “Mom has other plans for me!”

   “Other plans?” He speaks slowly contemplating if he heard me properly.

   “Yes, she or maybe both mom and dad planned some small vacation out of town.” I sink into my bed and shut my laptop’s screen in frustration.

   “You didn’t say anything?”

   “How could I? She did not even give me a chance to explain! Nathan, what do I do? What about London?”

   “Relax, let me speak to her?” I debate whether to let him or not, finally I give in and I hear the home phone ring.

   After a couple of minutes, my phone rings. I bring it to my ear and answer.

   “I spoke to her.” was the first thing I hear.

   “… and?”

   “Ari, I think that you should go on this trip with them.” My jaw drops and I shake my head wondering if I was hearing things.

   “What?” I squeak my voice sounding a little more high pitch than intending.

   “Tell me the last time you had a dinner with your parents? When was the last time you went for a picnic? When was the last time you three were together, actually?” he retorts.

   “Nathan, are these your words?”

   “They are my words, and I think you should go, Ari.”

   “Alright,” I sigh and hang up.

So I am going on a trip with my family, to where? Oh, right, Never-land.


I stomp down the stairs with my clothes in a duffle bag, rubbing my sleep-ridden eyes and grunting in irritation, as I had to wake up early.

   Why do we even have to leave so early? It is not as if we are going to meet some celebrity so that we would of to go early and stand in a big queue until we finally shake hands with them.

   “There she is,” my mother says, clasping her hands together, taking my duffle bag, and ushering me towards the car.


   I sink back into the leather seats of our car, blocking out my mother’s instructions and tune into the view outside as dad drove the car towards never-land.

   Somewhere at the back of my mind, I was very curious as to why mom wanted us to go on this trip, and foremost, where were we even going.

   “Mom,” I call. She turns from her seat to look at me. “Where are we going?”

   Her lips curl up and she grins widely, her eyes twinkle and that was a very unusual expression. “You will see.”

   I gulped and turned my attention back to the window and try to think about unicorns and candies, anything to distract myself from the creepy look she just gave me.

   This trip turned from tiring to annoying to frustrating. I asked dad to hit the radio up and even that did not help to calm my sleep-ridden self down. 

   I dig my face into my hands and roll the windows down, letting the cool air tackle my face. Every time I tried to sleep, the car would come in contact with a bump, disrupting my sleepy self.

   I blow out through my lips, stick my head a little out of the window, imagining myself as a dog, and stick my tongue out, letting the cool air tingle my tongue.

    It felt good, really good.

   “Aria,” mom warns, I retreat my tongue and close my eyes, letting the cool air take me into a bumpy, cool slumber.

   Dad stops near a small restaurant to the outskirts of our town and I step out of the car to stretch.

   “How long is it going to take from here?” I ask them.

   “In an hour and we’ll be there,” dad answers, smiling at me.


       Just as dad promised, we reached our destination in an hour, sort of. The car surfed into a wide road and stopped outside a big black gate. He said something to the guard and the door swung open. 

    I gasped at the view ahead of me. A couple of yards ahead surrounded by greenery stood a magnificent mansion. The drive way was long; my mouth was agape by the time we reached the front.

    “No way are we going to spend our vacation here!”

    My arms and legs seemed to have a mind of their own. I sub-consciously open the door of our car and step out.

    I want to stretch, but it will seem very rude and bad mannered to do so. Therefore, I just follow father towards the trunk of the car, keeping my head down. They had shut me up by saying that we are going to stay here and I really could not do anything about it. My summer plans were ruined and I might as well follow my dad’s lead and enjoy the summer that I deserve.

    Following my parents, I silently, ducking my head low, entered the huge mansion.

    I climb the first few steps before the door attached to a magnificent looking—you can call it exaggerating from my part— wall made of stones. The sides of the doorframe were designed and framed with glass and the door made of some wood I could not recognise. I actually do not know any wood apart from normal wood, and this was nowhere normal wood.

     I was scared to entire the perfectly polished marble floor with my dirty shoes, and immediately wanted to scurry back into our car and run home. My face slowly started heating up, due to the beauty of the house and my ugliness clear on show.

    I nervously step into the house, behind my parents, keeping my head low. I lifted it just a little when a woman around her late 30s greeted us. I gave a nervous smile and instead she pulled me into a tight hug.

    To say I am shocked is an understatement. My legs feel jaggy and I can lose my balance any moment. Internally, I was screaming at the woman to let go of me or else my dirt clothes would stain her designer dress.

    She ignores my internal screaming and says, “It’s been so long. You’ve grown into a pretty lady, I must say.”

    Huh? I try to look straight but my eyes fall back down to the floor with a tint of red rounding my cheeks. I silently fumble for words and mutter only a few in puzzlement, “Long… when... What... do me…?” 

    She ignores my stammering and calls to us, “You’re in time for lunch, please join us.” She slowly paces away, showing us to the Dining room, and all the while, my mouth was agape at the beauty of the house.

   The dining room’s colour theme was mainly maroon and green. A chandelier hung above the dining table. The table was oval and two people were already sitting on their respective seats. A boy around my age—I guess—and another male, whom I am guessing to be the husband.

   My mom silently ushering me towards taking a seat on the eight-seated dining table, and I oblige, quietly settling for the seat next to the boy, avoiding any sort of eye contact.

Talk about introduction.

   “She’s changed so much,” the woman who had welcomed us spoke, looking at me. I snap my head towards dad’s direction, who nods, agreeing to what the woman said.

   Do I even know them? I do not remember, their faces seem to be vaguely familiar, they can be some of my parent’s relatives, and I might have met in some gathering.

    “Oh, I forgot to introduce you to our son.” She waves at the boy sitting beside me; he looks up and gives his mother a small smile before turning towards me. I take in a sharp breath; taking in the boy’s handsome, cute features (if I can add yummy, that too). “This is Hunter, Hunter, meet Aria.”

     She knows my name!

   Oh, his name is Hunter!

    I could feel my cheeks turning a bright hue of red; I look up slightly and give him a smile. He acknowledges me with one and turns back towards his plate. He looked familiar, as if I knew him from somewhere but could not place a finger as to where.

    I am a social awkward, guaranteed.


    After lunch, we were all seated in the living room. Now that was another piece of excellent interior designing. The living room’s ceiling went as high us to the sky, (not really) and towards my right was a fireplace. The entire living room’s theme was a shade and mixture of cream and white.

    The floor-to-ceiling windows give the living room a lot of natural light and if you dropped a pin, you would hear it; it was that peaceful.

    I sink into the soft sofa material and rest my head tiredly into the headrest, my eyes slowly drooping.

    “Darling, would you show Aria to her room? She looks pretty tired.” I perked up on hearing my name, twisting my head to the owner of the voice. It was Mr. Jacobs, he asked me to call him Mike though, and the woman who welcomed us was Alisha, Hunter’s mom.


     Hunter, his name also sounds delicious!


    He smiles—he does that a lot, and I absolutely love it—and, showed me outside the living hall and towards a flight of stairs.


    On my way, climbing the stairs, I notice a narrow passage of photo frames attached on the wall. I quietly sneak into the passage and take a quick glance at the photos. There are photos of the family at a beach, near Hollywood board sign in LA, and one specific picture that caught my attention—literally.


    It is of Hunter. His hair was in mess and he was wearing a white half-sleeved top, with an arm around another boy who wore a basketball jersey, and the school’s name clearly printed on it.


    The picture of Hunter is extremely familiar and the school jersey too. I narrow my eyes, and read out the school’s name to myself.


   ‘Richard Lander School, Manchester.’

Right then everything hit me, why the Jacobs family seemed so familiar, why Hunter was familiar.

   I tried to look anywhere but at the picture in the frame, anger boiled through me and I want to snap.

   “Your room is that way,” Hunter calls; I take a sharp turn towards him, keeping my head down so that he would not notice the redness of my face. It was red not due to constant blushing, rather because of anger.

      I walked ahead of him, he starts to make a little conversation, and I was far from replying to his feeble attempts.

    “So where are you from?” He asks.

Manchester. Of course, I do not reply, I just stomp my way silently to where ever he was showing me.

    “How old are you, which form?”

    You do not ask a girl her age, and I am in the sixth form. I still do not answer and walk a bit faster.

    He seems to notice my ignorance and stops walking.

Oh, come on! You are supposed to show me to ‘my’ room!

   “You don’t have to be so mean!” he hollers.

    I swiftly turn around, I was not expecting to slam into a hard wall, but I somehow managed to—hold on, it is not a wall, rather his chest.

   I take a clumsy step back and rub my squashed nose, “You didn’t have to stand right behind me! There is something called personal space,” I grit angrily

   He simply shrugs, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his half-trousers.

   I would be lying if I said that this person, standing in front of me had changed a bit from what he was a couple of years ago.

“Would you…” I motioned towards the long hallway, “... Show me to ‘my’ room?”

   “You don’t have to be so mean, girl.”

   “I have a name!”

   “I don’t care.”

   “I don’t care if you don’t care! Just tell me where the room is... I’ll go myself; you don’t have to be my chauffer!” I half yelled half gritted.

    His eyes widen at my impatience and he studies my reddened face for a moment.

   What a way to create a nice pretty first impression, Aria.

“Find it yourself,” he says and turns to walk around, my jaw falls and I stare at his retreating back, incredulously.

   “You can’t leave me here like this!” I protest.

   “Do not speak to me like that.”

   I take a deep breath, “Show me to my room and you can go,” I say calmly.

   He suddenly turns around, for a moment I thought he would take me there, but he did otherwise.

   He comes at a very close pace towards me and his brown eyes burns into mine. He stares at them for a moment, while I hunch back, due to his intimidating height.

    “Do you have any idea who I am?” I want to scoff but I am the smart ass so I chose not to do that.

    “You’re a very arrogant, proud person?” I retaliate.

    He throws his head back and laughs, “You don’t even know me, doll!” I scowl when he calls me doll, but later fix my expression with a smirk.

    “Exactly, so your idea of intimidating me is failing, step back!” I lie; of course, it is scaring the butterflies out of me.

    “I’m not trying to intimidate you, rather study your stubborn, mean, spiteful conduct.” He retaliates.

    I could feel my cheeks turn a darker colour of red.

    “You’re turning red, like a tomato.” He adds, takes a step back, and laughs.

    “Shut up!”

    “Why be so rude, doll?” He asks quietly.

    “Why do I even have to stay with you?”

    “Consider yourself lucky, you get the luxury and stay for the summer.”

I process his words and as my jaw drops, “Entire….summer?”

   He nods and smirks, “yes the entire summer… with me!”

   I scoff, “I prefer staying with a street dog rather than an obnoxious narcissist.”

   “We both know who is being obnoxious here,” he states, taking the support of the wall beside him, leans against it and crosses his arms across his chest.

   I stare at his arms as the muscles contract and retract at his action.

    I gulp and look back at his smirking face.

“So, you said you have no interest in me?”

   “I never said that!” I remember every word of our little bickering and I never said those words.

   “So you do have an interest?” His smirk widens.

   “No, in fact you disgust me.”

 He seemed to be taken aback a little. However, he pushed that emotion aside and spoke, “We’ll see. In a couple of days, who falls where?”

   “Are you challenging me?”

   “Take it that way.” He shrugs.

   “Be ready to lose, loser!”

   He just smirked, but I was happy with my reply, so I turned to walk to my room and stopped mid way. That idiot had not told me the room’s location yet.

    I turned around once again, and my face slammed into his stupid chest again.

“What is with you invading my personal space, the hallway is big enough!” I scold.

   “You’re irresistible!” He retorts.

   “So you give in already?”

   “You wish.” He laughs and speaks again, “First room towards left from the dead-end.” With that, he walks to the right, enters the first room, and slams the door.

He is definitely pissed.




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