The Last Day of Summer
The jetty creaked under Theo’s feet the way it had every summer since he could remember. Tomorrow the family would pack the car, and in a month he would start high school in the city, where nobody knew that he was the boy who could hold his breath the longest or that he had once caught a fish bigger than his arm.
He sat at the end of the jetty and dangled his feet above the green water. His little sister crept up behind him, clutching two ice blocks that were already melting down her wrists. She handed him one without a word and sat down, leaning against his shoulder.
For a while neither of them spoke. The sun slid lower, turning the water copper, and a pelican drifted past as though it owned the bay. Theo realised he had been dreading tomorrow so much that he had nearly missed tonight. He took a bite of the ice block, and it tasted exactly like every summer before.