When I was 12, I met this boy. His life was the complete opposite of mine. He grew up on the beach with his single mom, spending his day surfing and wandering around Flagler in his swim trunks. I grew up on the Halifax with my callous parents, behind a gated driveway, wishing my life wasn’t already planned out for me.

I knew my parents wouldn’t approve of our friendship, so I spent two years sneaking over to his house, hoping at some point I’d have a say in how I lived my life.

When I was 14, there was an accident. As much as I wanted to keep him a secret, as much as I needed to see him every day, we were forbidden to ever see each other again. If I disobeyed my parents there would be consequences, ones that would destroy him.

Three years have passed, three years of watching myself waste away without him, sinking into a deep depression that I struggle to pull myself out of each morning. But then the unthinkable happens, his mom, she’s tragically gone, and I find myself back in his life.

This connection we have can only be explained with one word. Soulmates. At 17, we are no longer innocent little kids, and on the verge of adulthood our relationship has changed over time.

We need each other. We have each other. Our chemistry is undeniable.

But there are secrets that have suddenly become unraveled. There are mysteries that we find ourselves trying to solve. There are people who show up in our beach town, strangers who bring buried knowledge about the past.

We find ourselves thrown into the middle of a dangerous game that could cost us both of our lives, and there’s one simple fact that seems to shout out at us as each day passes.

There was a reason we were kept apart.

Confession. This is our story.