Max has bought himself a new toy.

It's a vintage, split-screen, VW campervan in a minty ice cream green. And Max hasn’t stopped talking about it.

He tinkers under the bonnet every day. He washes it every other.

And after a two-hour journey ended up almost four, I can tell you it's uncomfortable as hell, that's what it is. And it has a top speed of about fifty miles an hour.

Rhys, Galen and I pour from the back, out through the squealing sliding doors, on jellied limbs. Our legs desperately needing to stretch.

Rhys whined like a toddler the entire way. Almost three hours of, "Move, shift over, I'm squashed."

Galen eventually swapped seats with him, and I breathed a sigh of relief until my leg began to tingle because Galen's rested tightly against it for the rest journey.

Our first family trip together.

Family.

The word makes me want to vomit. Or cry.

How can a word that signified all the most important things in my life—love, laughter, home, safety, warmth—turn into something that tastes bitter on my tongue?

And where had Mum and Max decided to bring us for this family jaunt?

Barry Island Pleasure Beach on the hottest day of the summer so far—and it's a Bank Holiday.

Only one week until the end of summer break. Just seven days before we have to go back for my second year in high school.

"Don’t forget your drinks, hats and sunblock," Mum calls out, waving around one bottle of water and another of sunscreen spray. Behind her, the gaudy sign of the Pleasure Beach beckons us forward, and throngs of people flock at its entrance.

"Max, my love. Can you pass Rhys one of the spares I put in the back?"

Rhys ignores Max's offer, unzips his backpack and rummages around inside until he finds his drink, before pulling it out and shaking it as if to say, ‘Don’t bother.’

Max looks forlornly at the bottle in his hands before throwing it back inside the van.

I smile at Mum and say, “I’m good, thanks. I have everything I need.” To which she gives me a grateful one in return.

Galen yawns long and loud, and I turn my head to see him a few feet away with his arms stretched high above his head, and his t-shirt riding up over his waist, revealing a sliver of his naturally tanned skin.

My eyes are drawn to the exposed slice of his stomach, and when he catches me staring, he seems to extend his stretch as if he's posturing like a preening peacock.

When he finishes, he tucks the back of his t-shirt into his jean shorts, and grins.

Mum herds us all towards the entrance of the pleasure beach with an overly cheerful, "Let's go and have some fun, guys!"

Rhys drags his feet while trailing behind us with Max, who is telling him how much he used to love coming here as a kid.

Rhys ignores him.

We stand in line for our entry tickets, completely silent unlike the other families surrounding us who chatter and laugh and share excitement about the day ahead.

I wonder if we stand out? I wonder if they can tell that it was only a little over a year ago when we would’ve been like them?

Only, we lost one member and gained two we never asked for or wanted.

"How about we all—" Mum begins, after sharing out the tickets, but Galen has already walked off towards the rollercoaster and Rhys towards the arcades.

I shuffle from foot to foot, not knowing if I should hang with Mum and Max or go off on my own like the boys.

Mum smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. "We'll catch up with you later. Use your mobile phone if you need us.”

Max wraps his arm around her shoulders, and she seems to sink into his side. He smiles at me in much the same way as Mum did. "Go and have fun."

I push through the Bank Holiday crowds—all here for a day of family fun—and absently head in Galen’s direction.

I have no intention of following him.

‘Liar,’ my heart whispers. ‘It's not like we're friends,’ I whisper back.

The closest we've got to interacting at Mum's house before the summer break was the once Galen burst into my room in a panic as if something awful had happened, clutching a Chemistry textbook to his chest.

“Fflur, I have an emergency,” he rushed out.

“What’s wrong? What is it? I asked in alarm, my eyes likely as wide as saucers in my head.

He groaned loudly before tipping his head back and thudding it repeatedly against my door.

“I’m useless at Chemistry. Help me please?”

“Jesus, Galen. Don’t do that. You scared me.”

His head rolled to look at me.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to, but can you help me? I’ll make it worth your while. I’ll give you anything?”

“Anything?”

He nodded his head.

Payback is always sweet. I’m asking for the big guns.

“I want your guitar for two hours.”

This time it was his eyes that bugged out of his head.

“My guitar?”

“Yep.”

“Deal,” he said, like it wasn’t a big one, but I knew it was. His guitar was as precious to him as my flowers were to me.

“Then fire away.”

I helped him, of course I did. Answering questions is my thing. I’m a nerd after all, it’s in my DNA.

That night he left his guitar outside my room with a small bunch of wildflowers.

He let me keep it for two days before I propped it outside his room the morning I left to return to my father’s.

People scream as a roller coaster dips and rushes over rickety tracks. The smell of candy floss, popcorn, and hotdogs battle for dominance and long queues for fast rides weave their way between the stickiness of spilt drinks and melted ice lollies.

Galen.

He's sitting alone on a picnic table, his bottom on the table top, feet on the seat, and his sunglasses hide the striking colour of his eyes. He doesn’t spot me because he's too busy texting on his phone.

Mine buzzes in my pocket.

As I dodge around groups of teenagers rushing towards the rides, I push my hand into my shorts, pull out my phone, and open the text.

The Log Flume is empty.

The old log flume not being busy doesn't surprise me. It’s ancient, and I swear the water is more slime than liquid.

Is that a request to join him? Why would he want to hang around with me?

Galen startles when I sit on the bench at his feet.

I tilt my head towards the log flume that sits across the green from us. "Let's go and get wet."

He smirks at me. I'm not sure if it’s because of my choice of words or because I'm weird. I laugh to cover up my blush.

"Let's go and get you wet."

Teen boys are freaks.

Minutes later, we climb into the already soaked seat of an old flume boat. Galen is told to sit at the back of the long, narrow, single bench because he's bigger, with me in front of him a few inches.

I didn't think this through.

As the flume boat begins to move and climb up the conveyor belt towards the top of the first dip, my back hits his front, and he wraps his arm around my waist.

My stomach dips but not because of the ride, and I swear it stays somewhere around my feet, near the tips of my toes, for the entire time.

Galen’s arms are around my waist. I can feel each of his laughs right through to my chest.

When we get off the log flume, we are soaked to the bone, and both laughing wildly. Both of us feeling lighter than the candyfloss scented air.

Galen looks at me, and I don't know if this is where we split up and go our separate ways. I think I need to leave before he does.

"I guess I'll catch you later."

"Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me tight to his side. “Where do you think you’re going? I need to take to you on some more rides. Big Dipper?"

I think about sharing that last ride with him. His arm holding me tight, his legs bracketing my thighs.

"I think I feel a bit lightheaded."

“Come on, Fflur. Live a little. You know you can trust me,” he says while squeezing me tight.

I think back to that night in the woods.

“I trust you.”

"Great.” His face stretches into a wide and dazzling smile, and whatever has decided to flutter around in my belly, stills before doing a backflip. “That's what we're going on next."

“I’m warning you, though. I do feel a bit queasy,” I confess quietly.

“I’ve got you, Fflur. You’ll be okay.”