Chasing Sunrise: A Sweet YA Enemies-to Lovers Romance (Inn for the Summer)

by Sara Jane Woodley

  Is he joking? My anger flares up again as I face him head on.

  “Listen here, golden boy. I am here for one reason and one reason only. I’m building up my portfolio so I can get out of that stinking pile of a town as soon as we graduate next year. I need this job for my future and nothing will distract me from that. Including your snide remarks, immature comments, and stupid questions.”

  I climb the steps to my cabin, finishing with: “Stay out of my way this summer, and we’ll get along just fine.”

  With that, I turn on my heel and slam the door shut behind me.

  My heart is racing and I’m out of breath. He may have hurt me long ago, but I won’t let him get to me now.

  Not again.

  14

  Jonathan

  Kiara the Queen slams the door, retreating to her throne room.

  Someone’s having a bad day.

  Unbeknownst to Kiara, I came back to my cabin to put my camera away after devouring about a thousand mac and cheese bites. I also wanted some fresh air after the intense moment we shared when dancing. Of course, Delia would pick me out in a crowd to throw us together.

  Kiara has this unnerving way of seeing through me, like she knows something about me that I don’t even know myself. During the dance, I wanted her to feel as uncomfortable as she makes me feel. I taunted her. Teased her. Spun her dangerously close to both people and food. But she gave everything back and more; completely unshakeable.

  Then our eyes met and something indescribable shot through me.

  I brush off the memory. When I got back here, I was going to crawl under her cabin to grab the soccer ball when I noticed that one window was slightly open. I shut it from the outside to keep the bugs out, and that’s when her shriek almost killed me.

  If I’d known it was her cabin, I would’ve opened the window wider.

  Our rivalry goes too far back, the roots are too deep, for me not to mess with her a little.

  I smile and follow the path back towards the Inn. It’s not surprising that Kiara’s only here to make progress towards her future. She’s always had a one-track mind.

  And it’s paid off, hasn’t it? She’s a talented photographer, her skills are miles ahead of what I could ever hope to accomplish. I told her I was a great competitor, but deep down I know that next to her, I’ll look like a complete fraud.

  “Can I do this?” I ask the sky for what feels like the millionth time today. And for the millionth time, the sky doesn’t have an answer.

  The lights from the Inn get closer, and the happy chatter and laughter get louder. This is what I want. Working here at the Inn this summer feels right. But whether I have the skills and ability to be a photographer? To be determined.

  Should I give up? Maybe I should just go to Momentum — scratch this whole photography thing and go back to soccer.

  It isn’t too late. I can hop on a bus tonight and get to Momentum by midday tomorrow. I can live the life my parents have so carefully planned out for me. I called the camp a couple of days ago to let them know I wouldn’t be coming. They sounded surprised. Surely they’d take me if I showed up just a day late?

  I kick a stone and watch it bounce into the darkness. That is what everyone wants and expects of me. My parents and closest friends think I’m already there. I can go back to being “Star Midfielder” and “MVP”. The boy who’s the “best” at everything. The one everyone is counting on to go to a big college on a full-ride soccer scholarship.

  Funny enough, Kiara might be the only person in my life without these expectations of me. My family and friends, even strangers in the street, all expect the best of me. Kiara is the one person who doesn’t. If anything, she blatantly believes I can’t do it. She’s set the bar so low, it’s lying on the ground.

  I blow out a puff of air, like I’ve been holding my breath for far too long. An odd sense of freedom and relaxation sweeps through me as I consider staying here.

  The music is loud, and people are laughing on the balcony above me.

  I close my eyes and smile. It feels like my first genuine smile in a very long time.

  If I’m not the best here, will anyone care?

  15

  Kiara

  Warm sunlight streams through the windows and the birds chirp outside. This is what it must feel like to be a princess in a fairy tale. I stretch out in my bed, pleasantly surprised by the good night’s sleep.

  This princess has to roll up her sleeves and get to work.

  I hop out of bed and throw on my jean shorts and a top. I tie my wavy hair into a messy bun, pulling out a few strands to frame my face in an attempt to look “classy”. After applying copious amounts of sunscreen and bug spray, I stroll over to the Inn for breakfast.

  The guests arrive today, with the first expected in just a few minutes.

  I find my way to the event room, which is buzzing with energy. Delia and Vin stand in the midst of the chaos. Delia is animatedly tapping her clipboard and adjusting her cowboy hat while Vin gestures about the room.

  I’m about to ask where I can get breakfast when I spot a few staffers filing out of a door at the far end of the room. Dodging the chairs and tables set up all around, I head over and find a sign labeled “Staff Room”.

  A smile crosses my face as I enter. Big windows fill one wall of the staff room and there are several tables and chairs set up for meals. In one corner, a couple of old couches and shelves with various books and board games invite people to sit back and relax. “Only on their breaks, of course!” I imagine in Delia’s voice.

  “Good morning!” Fernando’s voice booms behind me as he enters from what I assume is the kitchen. “You’re Kiara — one of the photographers?”

  “What gave me away?” I smile and tap my camera. Fernando’s a large, cheery man with a big smile and light eyes. His dark hair is tied into a bun under his chef’s hat.

  Fernando laughs.

  Noah, one of the Edendale High kids, walks into the room. He heads for the food table, clearing up some empty trays. Noah is one of those kids that everyone knows about, but no one actually knows. I’ve heard he has like 3 part-time jobs during the year aside from his schoolwork. Despite being the school’s mystery guy, he’s always happy to lend a hand.

  “You’d better get your breakfast quick. Noah’s on a mission this morning.” Fernando gives Noah a wink. Noah, with a bagel clenched between his teeth, smiles and ducks out with the empty trays.

  "Looks like a couple of bagels survived his mission," I say. The food table is filled with amazing options, but there’s something missing. I keep my voice quiet, not wanting to impose. “Do you happen to have any avocado?”

  Fernando turns around and marches back into the kitchen. I stand for a moment, wondering if my avocado request might’ve somehow insulted his innate chef-ness. He returns and hands me a perfectly ripe avocado. “I’ve never tried avocado on a bagel before.”

  I grab a bagel. “Let me make one for you, it’s my favorite.”

  Fernando shows me into the kitchen and I put together his bagel with cream cheese, avocado, and tomato. It’s a staple for weekends when my mom is at work and we happen to have an avocado in the house.

  After sprinkling salt and pepper on top, I pass the plate to Fernando. He takes a big bite and smiles.

  “Wonderful. We might need to add this to the menu for the season,” he says.

  My cheeks flush red. I enjoy cooking and trying out new recipes — if we have any ingredients in the house. But to have something I made — however simple — complimented by a chef? That’s something I never would have expected.

  “You know where to find me if you need the recipe,” I say, winking, before I make up my own bagel. “Thanks Fernando!”

  I follow the buzz of energy out of the Inn and into the garden, happy to see that I’m getting better at finding my way through this place. I take another bite of my bagel and head to the lake. It’s the perfect spot to wait for guests.

  The lake is aston
ishingly beautiful this morning. Little ripples travel over the surface so the reflection of the mountains seems alive. I finish my bagel and snap a few shots. One of these is sure to work for the Glacier Journal.

  Finally, the guests start arriving, and I give them my full attention. I capture the joy and excitement in their faces as they see the Inn for the first time. I get the wonder in their eyes when they spot the lake. There’s a lively, dynamic atmosphere and I can’t keep the smile off my face.

  Until Jonathan comes wandering down the path.

  He’s late. He probably spent last night partying instead of taking this assignment seriously. And why would he take it seriously? He probably has some fancy internship he can fall back on if he needs it. Not that it’s any of my business, as he so kindly pointed out.

  “Little late to the game, golden boy? I hope we didn’t disturb your beauty sleep,” I say as he gets closer.

  Jonathan rolls his eyes in response, standing a few feet away from me.

  His hair is wet from the shower and he’s wearing a loose hoodie and shorts. I’ve rarely seen him without his soccer gear or his polo shirts. As he takes out his camera and scrambles to put it on, a strange feeling comes over me. I’ve never seen Jonathan look uncertain or vulnerable. It’s weirdly… cute.

  What are you thinking, Kiara?

  I shake myself off and focus on the guests as they set up around the area. I feel a bit sorry for him. He’s struggling to get his camera ready, and he seems stressed.

  Could it be? Does Jonathan actually care about doing a good job at Legacy Inn?

  16

  Jonathan

  Kiara watches as I fiddle with the buttons on my camera. Something about her makes me nervous.

  My stomach grumbles and I clear my throat to cover it. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning. I took a shower in the bathroom block by the cabins and the water was ice cold. It took me a while to properly wash off, and I had to run straight here afterwards.

  “First time with a camera, golden boy?” Kiara asks.

  I glare and adjust the settings on my camera.

  At school, we fall into our rivalry effortlessly. Most of the time, we’re able to avoid each other. And when we do see each other, either in class or at the end of an Eagles match, one of us lobs a snarky comment and the other claps back.

  Part of me has come to enjoy our banter over the years. She’s the only girl at school who doesn’t seem completely blinded by the fact that I play for the Eagles.

  Finally, I start snapping photos. I get a couple of shots of the lake before turning towards the guests, but my mind wanders to my ex-girlfriend, Isabella.

  When we were dating, the whole “status” thing got old quickly. We started dating in our sophomore year, right before I gained the “star midfielder” label. She was gunning for head cheerleader but, when she got it, everything changed. It was very important to her that I boast about my status, given her prestigious position. When she broke up with me to date another top athlete this past spring, I was relieved.

  I dated a couple of girls after, but nothing serious. All the conversations eventually centered on my being a state champion player, and how that could get us into the hottest parties and clubs in Edendale. It only got worse after we won the state championship two years in a row and I was awarded MVP.

  That’s when I lost interest in partying. After one too many pointless conversations about how great it must be to be the “star soccer kid” at Edendale High, I stopped going to the parties. No one understood the pressure I was under, and certainly no one wanted to talk about it.

  I line up the camera to take a shot of the newcomers and begrudgingly realize that Kiara was right to choose this spot. Standing here by the lake offers a perfect vantage point to get the expressions on guests’ faces as they arrive.

  But something isn’t working. I check back over the photos and frown. The images are dark, colorless, like they’re missing something.

  “Try moving closer to the dock. The sunlight hits the water and gives their faces a glow. Think of the lake as a giant reflector board.” Kiara’s smug voice floats over to me and I look up in surprise. The Queen strikes again. Her wide brown eyes are patronizing and she has a slightly disdainful look on her face. As usual, she comes across condescending.

  But I guess she does have more experience than I do…

  Without a word, I move closer to the dock and snap another photo of the elderly couple sitting on chairs in the garden. I look at the photo and the difference is night and day.

  The photo looks clean, crisp and professional. I smile.

  I glance up and catch a cute half-smile on Kiara’s face before she quickly drops the smile and goes back to looking displeased.

  “Thanks.” Whether or not she did it to be nice, her advice helped.

  She smirks, her eyes boring into mine.

  I hold her gaze for a moment and something strange happens. A wave passes between us. But then, she looks away, and the moment is gone.

  17

  Kiara

  “Did you hear? Kade Monroe is spending the entire summer here. He’s filming a new movie in the National Park.” Nath’s voice is a whisper of excitement.

  I’ve come inside for a glass of water and have stopped to chat with Nath. She’s the landscape architect here at the Inn, and I wanted to know how she gets her inspiration. The garden looks spectacular this evening, as many of the guests have pointed out.

  After explaining the intricacies of growing wisteria on outdoor arches, she turned her attention to the subject that was currently thrilling the Inn workers.

  “Kade Monroe...” The name is vaguely familiar. “The guy from those action movies?”

  “They’re only the best action movies!” Nath exclaims and then raises her eyebrows up and down. “Vin watches for the thrill, I watch for Kade.”

  I laugh at Nath’s starstruck expression, and she lowers her voice once again. “He and his son, Cooper, are both staying here in the penthouse at the far end of the property.”

  I stifle another laugh as Nath looks off dreamily into the distance. I’m not one to get starstruck around famous people, but Nath sounds like quite the fan. She squeezes my hand as Delia calls out from the reception.

  “Kiara, they need you by the garden!”

  Per Delia’s instructions, I head downstairs to work. It’s a beautiful evening, the perfect first night of vacation for many of the guests. The low buzz of cheerful conversation and laughter are intoxicating and I’m enjoying the aura of relaxation.

  On the porch, a couple has commandeered one of the porch swings and they’re laughing and chatting. I ask to take their photo and they happily oblige.

  I thread my way through the crowd of people in the garden. Fairy lights glow from the trees, and cute colored lanterns line the stone walkways leading to white tables and garden chairs. People bustle at the outdoor bar, getting their drinks and snacks. An early summer breeze carries the scent of roses and lavender. Overhead, the sky is a muted pink as the sun sets behind the peaks. I’ve never seen anything like it.

  As I stroll through the crowd, I’m thankful for the little black dress I packed. I even brushed my hair into something of a cute updo, and I’m wearing a touch of mascara. My mom would categorically disapprove of such a display, but I’m surprised to find I actually like dressing up — at least a little.

  It helps that everyone around me is dressed beautifully. The women wear bright, colorful dresses and skirts reminiscent of an international issue of Vogue. The men are wearing casual suits and slacks.

  I spot Jonathan as I’m approaching the gate leading to the lakeshore. Delia may have intended for the two of us to work together, but I’ve done a good job avoiding him.

  Now, curiosity gets the best of me. What’s he up to?

  Jonathan leans against one of the tables by the dance floor, laughing hard. He is the picture of carefree, and he’s charming the elderly lady he’s speaking with. Naturally, th
e golden boy is out and about sweetening everyone up.

  His dark jeans and white shirt fit him perfectly, showing off his soccer muscles. Tonight, his blond hair falls naturally across his forehead, not slicked in that gel guys use. He cleans up nicely — for a stuck-up soccer player.

  Get it together, Kiara.

  After our bizarre moment of eye contact by the lake, I quickly made an excuse to leave. I can’t explain what came over me when his blue eyes met mine. It was an electric shock that stole my breath — something I definitely don’t want to happen again.

  I shake away the thought and I’m about to turn away when something makes me pause.

  Jonathan places his camera on the table and holds out his hand to the elderly woman. She takes it, laughing, and he leads her to the dance floor. There’s a fun, catchy song playing and he spins her around in circles, dipping her twice.

  Her laughter is contagious and I can’t stop a smile from spreading across my face as I watch them dance together. He’s laughing too as she shows him a move or two.

  I remember his hands guiding me in a dance last night. He sure knows how to have a good time.

  He dips her a third time, and his eyes meet mine. Everything goes quiet. He smiles. It’s not the smug, conceited smirk I’m used to. It’s not the celebratory smile I’ve captured so often after he’s scored a goal, either. This is something different. Something warm.

  My legs are made of rubber, and it's amazing I don’t fall when I take my next step. Breathless, I look away.

  Seriously, Kiara. Get. It. Together.

  I walk through the crowd without looking back, disappearing from his blue-eyed gaze.

  18

  Kiara