We Are Real

Beginning

MADDY

Time and I have never been friends

Shit. What time is it?

Cold water crashes over my shoulders, stealing the air from my lungs and snapping me fully awake.

I cling to my board for a second, blinking salt out of my eyes while my wet hair sticks to my face in the most annoying way possible.

Surfing before school was supposed to be quick.

I told myself twenty minutes, tops. But I have a feeling a little more time has passed.

And now I’m going to be late for school. Again.

I quickly paddle to the shore, my arms burning. And when I hit the sand, I race towards my bag and search for my phone, but one glance at the screen confirms exactly what I was afraid of; I should’ve left fifteen minutes ago.

“Dammit.”

I yank a shirt over my bikini, shove everything into my bag, and tuck my board under my arm. Sand sticks to my feet as I take off toward home. Luckily, home is only a two-minute run from here—don’t ask me how I know.

“Running late again, Maddy?”

I glance up at the sound of my name and spot one of my neighbours walking her ancient golden retriever down the beach path, coffee in one hand, leash in the other.

“What gave it away?” I yell back as I stumble over a shell. She shakes her head, smiling, like this is the least surprising thing she’s seen all morning.

After two minutes of running—and way too much tripping over my own feet, because running with a surf board under your arm doesn't look hot at all like in the movies—I finally make it home. Even when I’m late and half out of breath, I can’t help glancing at our beach house for a second, sun-faded and tucked between the dunes, the kind of place that always smells faintly like salt and sunscreen.

I take the porch steps two at a time, shove my board against the railing, and burst through the back door, my wet feet sliding across the hardwood.

I drop my bag onto a kitchen bar stool and start grabbing everything I need for school.

Anatomy notebook from the counter. Pencil case from the drawer.

Laptop, charger, keys. Everything gets shoved into my bag without much thought.

I unzip the little side pocket, realize it’s already stuffed, add more stuff and force the zipper closed anyway.

I scan the room for my lab coat, and turn just as—

“Jesus, Mads, I almost slipped. Why is the floor completely wet?”

I look up from my bag to see my older brother Noah looking at the floor as if there is an entire flood.

We look enough alike that people never question it—same dark blond hair, same green eyes, same dimples.

But that’s where the similarities end. Noah is calm and steady and somehow always prepared.

I think he stole those traits in the womb when he got there two years before me.

“Sorry, I went surfing,” I mumble, still glancing around the room for my lab jacket, because where the hell did I put that thing?

“Yeah, I can tell,” Noah responds.

I don’t look up, I don't have to. I know he’s leaning against the counter with crossed arms.

“You’re not late again, are you?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

I roll my eyes, still not looking up. “You sound like every adult in this town.”

“That’s because they’re all right.”

I sigh and finally turn slightly to meet his gaze. “I’ll be out in time. Don’t worry.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t you have something better to do than judging me?”

“Nope.” He shrugs. “I’m ready.”

I snort. Of course he is.

I finally spot my lab coat—on the couch, I don’t know how either—and somehow manage to cram it into my bag. I glance at the clock. I’ve got fifteen minutes to shower, get dressed, and maybe look a little decent. Easy.

“I’m going upstairs,” I call, heading towards the stairs.

“You have ten minutes,” Noah replies.

“Fifteen,” I argue, turning and bolting for the stairs.

I’m out of the shower in record time, wrap a towel around myself and yank open drawers in my room, grab the first outfit that doesn’t look completely wrinkled and pull it on before heading down again.

“Coming!” I call, trying to get earrings in as I move.

Noah’s sitting sideways on one of the bar stools, one leg bouncing nonstop while his fingers tap against the counter. “Come on, we’re late,” he says, already grabbing his keys. “I packed you breakfast, so get in the car.”

I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder, laughing despite myself. Because for someone who claims my lateness is going to be the death of him, he still makes sure I don’t leave the house hungry.

I slide into the passenger seat just as Noah locks up the house. And after he starts the engine, I reach into his bag.

“You made me a breakfast bagel?” I gasp, opening the wrapper to reveal something that looks a whole lot like heaven. “I must be special.”

“This is literally the only thing I know how to make.”

“That’s true,” I say with my mouth pretty much full, “but I still like to think I’m special.”

He shakes his head as he smiles, gaze focused on the road as our little town Baylin passes by.

We pull into the college parking lot just barely on time. The campus is bigger than it looks from the road, old stone buildings and worn walkways already crowded with students rushing between classes.

Noah parks and I’m out of the car immediately. I lean back in through the open window. “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?”

“See you at lunch,” he says, fumbling with his seatbelt.

The second my feet hit the pavement, I pick up the pace, because my class is on the complete opposite side of campus. Which makes me believe fate has some twisted sense of humour. Or it’s just bad karma, I don't know.

I cut across the walkway, trying to look casual. I weave through clusters of students, muttering quick apologies. I sidestep and nearly lose my balance when my shoe catches the curb. I try to recover and run straight into someone. “Oh—shit, sorry.”

I look up to meet Ryan Drayton’s green eyes.

His brown hair is slightly messy, a couple curls falling across his forehead.

He’s standing way too relaxed, hands in his pockets, completely unfaced.

Like I didn’t just body-check him. Which shouldn’t be that surprising, considering how tall and athletic he is.

I’m pretty sure I just bounced off him like a leaf hitting a brick wall.

A grin appears on his face when he notices my stressed face.

“Madelyn Hazel Gracelyn,” he teases, his morning voice still a little rough, like these are the first words he speaks since waking up. “Late again?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I straighten, smoothing my sleeve with my hand. “I’m not late all the time.”

He lets out a quiet snort, which makes me look up and cross my arms. “Maybe I just really enjoy running across campus.”

“Mhm.”

I exhale, but there’s no real heat behind it. Ryan’s been Noah’s best friend forever. Practically lived at our house growing up, so I know him well enough to feel at ease with him.

Ryan nods toward the path behind me. “You should probably go. Your class is still on the other side of campus.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Thanks for the reminder,” I reply sarcastically, already brushing past him. And when I’m a few steps away, his voice follows. “Hey, Maddy?”

I turn back and he tilts his head, a cheeky smile on his face. “Try not to be late.” He winks.

“Funny.” I shake my head and hurry toward class, resisting the urge to flip him off over my shoulder.

The bell rings just as I slip through the classroom door.

“Yes,” I mutter under my breath. “Just in time.”

“That was a close one, Miss Gracelyn.”

I look up to find my teacher, Sophie, watching me with an amused smile, glasses perched on her nose, cardigan buttoned neatly and that calm energy like that one favourite aunt always has.

“Good morning, Sophie.” I give her a smile before turning and scanning the room. I spot my friends almost immediately in the back, an empty seat waiting beside them.

Mel turns toward me, smiling. “Good morning, Mads.” Her warm presence immediately calms my nervous system. Liam leans back beside her, one arm draped easily over her shoulders. “You look like you just ran a marathon,” he adds.

“I basically did.” I drop into the seat and pull the books from my bag just as Sophie steps to the front.

“Alright,” she says, clapping her hands lightly. “Nursing students, please quiet down and open your books to page sixty-seven.”

The morning classes blur together in medical terms, messy diagrams, and chemistry experiments that make my brain feel like it’s melting.

Liam and Mel walk next to me as we head outside to the campus grass field, their fingers loosely intertwined. They have been together since forever. Forever being the first year of high school.

“—did you hear what Sophie said about oxygen saturation?” I ask, picking up where we left off. “I swear my brain shut down the second she started doing math.”

Liam lifts his free hand. “I know, right?”

“Yeah, I got lost in the last five minutes,” Mel says.

“Last five minutes?” I raise an eyebrow. “Sophie lost me in the first five.”

Liam snorts as we drop onto our usual bench in the middle of the grass—the one we’ve basically claimed since freshman year—and start pulling out our lunches. Mel pauses, glancing at my empty hands. “Please tell me you at least brought something.”

Before I can say anything, Liam digs through his backpack, pulls out a wrapped sandwich and holds it out.

“Here,” he says. “I figured.”

I laugh. “You’re the best.”

We’re barely a few bites into our sandwiches when Kiara appears in front of us. One look at her face and I know she’s seconds away from committing a crime.

“Liam,” she says, pointing at him like it’s a warning, “you better have a sandwich for me too. Otherwise, I will commit a crime today.”

Told you.

She drops onto the bench beside me with dramatic force, dark curls bouncing as she huffs, “I swear, if one more guy in class says something dumb about ‘female strength,’ I’m going to lose it.”

Liam, unfazed, hands her a sandwich and Kiara sighs like that sandwich solves all her problems and takes a huge bite. “This is exactly why I’m a lesbian,” she says with her mouth full. “All men should just leave the planet.”

Liam presses a hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

“Nah, not you, Li. You can stay,” Kiara reassures him, in between bites. “But only because you’re basically a walking vending machine.”

“I’ll take that,” Liam says proudly.

“What about me, then?” Noah steps into view behind us, dropping his bag next to the bench and sitting down beside Kiara, who immediately rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Fine. You get an exception.”

“You’re forgetting someone.” Ryan now also appears beside the bench, voice light with teasing. “I hear I’m not allowed on this planet?”

Kiara considers him for a second, then sighs. “Okay. Fine. You’re the absolute last exception.”

“I’m honoured,” he says, taking a seat next to Noah.

The three of them are in the police program together, so the banter between them comes easily.

Mel, Liam and I joined college for the nursing program two years later.

Our school offers a wide range of programs—everything from business and law to fashion and design—which works out perfectly, because otherwise the closest places where we could study nursing and police training would’ve been four hours apart.

I lean back against the warm wood of the bench as the conversation drifts. Kiara and Noah try to convince Ryan to join them for their marathon training.

“Not a chance,” Ryan answers, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m already fast enough.”

Kiara lifts an eyebrow. “Confident much?”

“I’ve never been too slow,” he says calmly.

“I’d be faster,” I add, mostly to annoy him.

Ryan glances at me, a small, surprised smile tugging at his mouth. “You?”

“Absolutely.”

He huffs a quiet laugh just as the bell rings across the courtyard and we all groan in sync.

“Time to pretend we’re responsible students again,” Liam says, stretching.

“Hey,” I say, brushing crumbs off my pants as I stand, “what if we have a barbecue tonight? At our place. To celebrate surviving the week.”

Kiara grins. “I’m in.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Ryan says.

“I’ll bring chips,” Liam adds, nudging Mel. “We can make one of those weird fancy salads you always do.”

“You love my weird fancy salads,” Mel says.

“Unfortunately, I do,” Liam replies, kissing her cheek.

Kiara fake gags as we start walking. “Can you two save the romance for literally anywhere else?”

I laugh and Noah ruffles my hair as he passes. “We’ll pick up food after class.”

“Perfect.”

We split off toward our buildings, but just as we reach the stairs, I pause and pat my bag. “Wait—my water bottle. I left it on the bench.”

“Go grab it,” Mel says. “We’ll tell Sophie you’re coming.”

“Thanks!” I jog back across the courtyard. My bottle is still half-hidden under the bench. I bend to grab it, but when I come back up, a hand closes around my wrist. And I go still.

“Mads.”

Shit, it’s Jacob. My ex-boyfriend.