Amy Fernandez slammed the cafe door behind her, letting out a low groan that could rival any dramatic telenovela scream. Community service, she muttered under her breath, glaring at the stacks of menus she had to organize. I hate this. I hate this so much.
She wiped a smear of spilled coffee off the counter and leaned against it, sighing loudly enough for anyone to hear. It wasn't just the tedious cleaning or the endless serving. No, it was the entire situation that made her stomach churn.
A few weeks ago, she had nearly gotten expelled from Greenwood Academy. Of course, she wouldn't admit it aloud—but it was a scandal she'd almost caused with a girl named Megan Lopez. The details were messy, but the school had finally decided: instead of expulsion, Amy and Megan would serve community service. Separate community service, the principal had said, as though distance could erase the tension between them.
And now, Amy was in a small coastal town, temporarily living with her grandmother, a woman whose reputation could crush empires, all while enduring hours of mandatory cleaning in a cafe that smelled like burnt croissants and stale coffee.
"Hi there!" a chirpy voice broke through her grumbling.
Amy barely glanced up. A girl, slightly taller than her, with a carefree smile and sun-kissed hair that bounced with every movement, was waving at her.
"I'm Tracy," the girl continued, undeterred by Amy's silence. "I'm also doing community service, but voluntary—y'know, helping out, giving back. Not like forced labor," she added with a grin.
Amy's eyes flickered briefly in acknowledgment. "Amy," she said flatly, returning to stacking cups.
Tracy laughed, undeterred by Amy's indifference. "Well, Amy, if you're not busy being grumpy all day, there's a beach party tonight. You should come!"
Amy didn't look up. "I'll try."
"You'll come," Tracy insisted, raising a finger. "I'll pick you up." And with that, she bounded away toward the counter, leaving Amy to sigh, loud and long. She rested her cheek against her hands, staring out the cafe's glass door. Long summer vacation, she muttered. Yeah, right.
By the time her community service ended, the sun had begun its lazy descent toward the horizon. Amy trudged back to her grandmother's mansion—a sprawling estate that looked more like a fortress than a home. Eliza Fernandez had once dominated boardrooms with ruthless efficiency; now, she ruled her household with the same iron will, tempered only by the occasional indulgence in her favorite telenovelas.
Amy found her grandmother sprawled on the living room sofa, eyes glued to the screen. "Seriously, Grandma? Again?" Amy groaned, shaking her head. "You watch these things like they're real life."
Eliza turned, feigning an innocent pout. "Oh, come now, my dear. These dramas have all the romance and intrigue of a real boardroom," she quipped, gesturing at the screen.
Amy rolled her eyes. "You do realize you used to destroy companies with your bare hands? Now you're here, falling for telenovelas?"
Eliza chuckled, a sly sparkle in her eye. "Some habits never die, darling. But enough about me—what about you? How was your day of forced good deeds?"
Amy recounted the beach party invitation, exaggerating her disinterest. Eliza leaned back, tapping a finger to her chin, eyes twinkling. "Hmm. Well… promise me you'll go. Just for a little while."
Amy hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. I'll go." She moved toward the stairs.
"Ah, but wait," Eliza added, voice softening. "Your brother called."
Amy froze mid-step, her expression hardening into ice. "Tell him I want nothing to do with him," she said flatly.
Eliza's eyes flickered, trying to reason with her, but Amy had already spun on her heel and left the room.
Eliza sighed, sinking back into her sofa. One day, she murmured, she'll stop letting the anger and pain control her.
Thirty minutes before Tracy was supposed to pick her up, Amy descended the grand staircase. She wore a flowing navy maxi dress, the fabric catching the breeze from the open windows. White sneakers gave her a casual edge, and a crossbody bag rested lightly against her hip. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled into a loose braid that draped over her shoulder, and minimal silver jewelry glinted faintly in the afternoon sun.
Eliza appeared at the door, smiling as Amy kissed her on the cheek. "Have fun," she said.
Amy waved before stepping out, unlocking her phone as it buzzed with a new message. One glance at the screen made her lips curl into a smirk.
Well, she thought, looks like I've got a new target.
The message disappeared, and Amy slid her phone back into her bag. The hunt had just begun. She smiled to herself once more, the sun glinting off the streets ahead, and stepped confidently into the evening. The door clicked shut behind her.
At the Cafe
Amy sat on the low stone ledge outside the café, legs crossed at the ankle, fingers drumming lightly against her thigh.
She huffed softly and leaned back against the café's glass window.
Just as she was debating whether to text Tracy and cancel altogether, a familiar car rolled into view and slowed to a stop near the curb.
Amy straightened instinctively.
Tracy leaned out the driver's window, sunglasses perched on her nose. "You look like you're plotting a crime."
Amy pushed herself to her feet. "I was considering escape."
"Get in," Tracy said. "I brought friends."
Amy raised an eyebrow as she approached the car.
Two guys sat inside—one in the passenger seat, one lounging lazily in the back. Both looked their age. Both looked entirely too relaxed.
One was tall, broad-shouldered, with sun-bleached hair and a lazy grin that looked permanently glued to his face. The other was leaner, darker, eyes sharp and observant like he missed nothing.
"Hope you don't mind," Tracy added as Amy opened the door. "Leo and Matt."
Leo grinned, quick and confident. "Hi."
Matt nodded, quieter, eyes curious rather than intrusive. "Hey."
Amy slid into the back seat beside Matt. "As long as neither of you don't talk too much."
Leo gasped. "Rude."
"Accurate," Tracy said, pulling back onto the road.
The car filled with music—low, bass-heavy, something summery. Amy rested her elbow against the door and watched the town blur past.
"So," Leo said after a moment, twisting around in his seat. "Community service buddies?"
Amy gave a noncommittal hum.
Tracy shot him a look. "Don't interrogate."
"I wasn't—"
"She was," Amy cut in calmly.
Leo laughed. "Okay, fair."
The beach came into view soon after—lights flickering, laughter rising, music echoing across the sand.
Tracy parked and hopped out. "Go change. You'll regret it if you don't."
Amy hesitated, fingers curling around the strap of her bag. "I'm fine."
Leo smirked. "Scared?"
She turned slowly, eyes cool. "Do you want to lose teeth tonight?"
He raised his hands. "Relax. I was gonna offer to help you find the changing rooms."
Amy stared at him.
Tracy sighed. "I hate both of you sometimes."
Amy shook her head and walked off. "I'll be back."
The changing room smelled faintly of sunscreen and salt.
When Amy stepped back onto the sand, the air felt different—cooler, sharper, alive.
Her bikini was deep wine-red, the fabric smooth against her skin, cut just daring enough to draw the eye without trying. Thin straps rested securely against her shoulders, the fit confident, deliberate. Her hair fell loose now, dark waves brushing her back, catching the glow of distant bonfires.
She ignored the looks.
Amy always did.
She moved away from the noise, letting the sound of the waves swallow everything else. Bare feet sank into cool sand as water curled around her ankles, retreating and returning like a slow breath.
She exhaled.
Then—
Movement.
Fast.
Too fast.
A blur exploded from behind a dune.
A massive dog burst from behind a dune—muscle, teeth, and dark fur in motion. A German shepherd base, but heavier, broader. Mixed with a Cane Corso's raw power and the razor intensity of a Belgian Malinois.
One dog. Three dangerous bloodlines.
Amy's breath hitched.
"Oh—nope."
She ran.
The dog chased.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she sprinted, sand slipping beneath her feet. She dropped suddenly, sliding forward just as the dog leapt—its body soaring clean over her.
She rolled onto her back, breathless, adrenaline flooding her veins.
She turned her head, grinning despite herself. "Take that."
The dog skidded, twisted—
And came back.
Her smile vanished.
Amy scrambled to her feet, but the sand betrayed her. Her ankle twisted sharply, pain ripping through her leg as she fell hard.
"Oh no."
The dog lunged.
She squeezed her eyes shut as the shadow loomed—
"Stop."
The command rang out, sharp and absolute.
The dog froze mid-motion.
Amy opened her eyes slowly, heart pounding, breath uneven.
Whoever had spoken—
They hadn't just called the dog.
They'd commanded it.
And somehow, Amy knew—
This summer had just stopped being boring.