Til Summer Comes Around, a grey's anatomy fanfic

Til Summer Comes Around: Keith Urban

Another long summer's come and gone
I don't know why it always ends this way
The boardwalk's quiet and the carnival rides
Are empty as my broken heart, tonight

But I close my eyes and one more time
We're spinnin' around and you're holdin' on tightly
The words came out, I kissed your mouth
No Fourth of July has ever burned so brightly
You had to go, I understand
But you promised you'd be back again
And so I wander 'round this town
'Til summer comes around.

I got a job working at the old park pier
And every summer now for five long years
I grease the gears, fix the lights, tighten bolts, straighten the tracks
And I count the days 'til you just might come back

Oh and I close my eyes and you and I
Are stuck on the ferris wheel rockin' with the motion
Hand in hand we cried and laughed
Knowing that love belonged to us girl,
If only for a moment
And "Baby I'll be back again"
You whispered in my ear
But now the winter wind is the only sound
And everything is closing down
'Til summer comes around.

I miss you baby, ooh
I miss you baby
Closin' back down, til you come back around

AN: As usual, I'm posting this later than I ever wanted to. Sorry about that--but midterms have been kicking my ass the last few weeks. And I've still got more this week, because of snow days and my professors can't seem to know/agree on which week is actually the 'mid-term.' Anyways, this thing also kind of took on a life of its own, and it is over 10K words. And I have an idea for a spin-off fic (I know, I know)--but it would be short. And I definitely wouldn't post it until all of its parts were complete. lol.

Hope you enjoy this oneshot. (Kimmy, it'll probably make you roll your eyes and cringe at the end, but I think I'm okay with that. ;]) If you're reading, I'd love to have your feedback, so please comment--plus, it will help me decide if I want to write the spin-off ficlet or not. These things take a lot of time to plan out/write, as I'm sure many of you can appreciate, and I wanna know if there's enough interest generated to even fully plan the 'next' part. ;] Thanks! x3

Oh, and if you're reading either of my other fics, I hope to have an update for each of them sometime this week, because as of Wednesday at 9PM-EST, I'm on spring break.;]

The sticky summer heat hung heavily in the air, mixing with the salt from the ocean and the late-summer winds… the clouds were shifting, changing, growing darker as the sun began to shrink behind them… all of these things working together to eventually create the perfect August storm. Alex Karev wiped at his brow and licked his upper lip—tasting the salt of sweat on his skin—before taking a greedy sip of lukewarm water out of his water bottle. He sighed as he took one last look around the pier—it was still summer, technically, but local schools were already back in session, and the Fourth of July-slash-weekender tourists had long since abandoned the sleepy North Carolina beach town that was barely even a blip on their radar—but it looked different.

Older.

Abandoned.

Lonely.

He knew it looked different every year around this time—the pier and its old-fashioned rides, food stands and carnival games, along with the clear, warm waters of the Atlantic coast were the town's main draw—but this time it felt… off.

Maybe it was because he knew he was never coming back… at least not to work. His family would still be there, so he could visit, but with starting Medical school in Iowa this autumn… well, he knew—and maybe even deep down understood—that his days of lounging around on the beach or jogging down the pier or teaching his baby sister to swim in the ocean or doing whatever he had done in his younger days there were over. He didn't necessarily like it, but it was the truth… and as his father had told him in his younger days, "sometimes, son, the truth fucking hurts."

He shook his head and took another sip of the water, finishing off the bottle. He crushed the plastic in his hands and sighed as he took a step toward the office. He opened the door—the overhead bell clanked loudly—and his boss's dog, Sammy, greeted him. Alex dropped the crushed bottle into the recycling bin before he knelt down to Sammy's level.

"Hey, old girl," Alex said softly as he patted her soft, golden fur. She happily wagged her tail at him, waiting for him to give her a treat—like he always did. Alex smiled and fished a treat out of his pocket; he placed it in his palm, told Sammy to sit pretty, and held his palm out to her when she did so. She greedily took the treat and ran off with it. Alex chuckled as he stood up; "I'm gonna miss that dog," he thought to himself.

"Sweetie," the receptionist-slash-best friend, Rachel, cooed, grabbing Alex's attention. "The boss wants to speak to you before you go, mmkay? He says he'll be here around 4:30."

"Alright," Alex replied, glancing to the clock on the wall above her head. It was just about 3:30 now, giving him an hour before his boss would arrive. Plenty of time.

Rachel smiled as she crossed her arms over her chest. "So you're really going?"

"I really am going," he sighed. He took another step toward the locker room, desperately wanting to clean out his locker and avoid Rachel's questions.

"You promised you'd never leave."

Alex bit his lower lip and shook his head. He had made that promise when he was twelve—eleven goddamned years ago—it figured that she'd be the one to remember it. "Rach…"

"I get it, Mr. Big Shot. I do," she replied, exaggerating her accent, her voice coming out in a thick southern drawl. "Just don't forget about us, okay, babe?" Rachel whispered, her voice cracking ever so slightly as it returned to her normal drawl.

Alex only nodded as he continued toward the locker room; he sighed as he pushed the swinging-'employees only'-labeled door open. He crossed the room and, almost angrily, twisted the combination—23-4-31—on his lock to open the old wooden locker. Alex pulled the empty backpack out of the locker before tossing various items—his nametag, a few pens, his hammer and other miscellaneous tools—into it.

It was a simple process; he was moving on, moving forward with his life. He barely even glanced at the items as he tossed them into his bag… until he found a folded, faded strip of photos from the old (now hanging on for dear life) photo booth on the pier.

Alex bit his lower lip as he unfolded the slip of paper, and – like he had always been – he was immediately drawn to her eyes. They still—even photograph faded—sparkled, captivating him with their not quite brown, but not quite green shimmer. She looked truly happy in those photographs; the first of them smiling directly at the camera, his arm around her shoulder. The second she was sticking her tongue out as he crossed his eyes and made a peace sign behind her head. The third, they're both laughing, and they look so… young and carefree. In the fourth, Alex had placed his hand on her cheek and turned her to face him, her mouth open in a perfect "O" of protest. In the fifth—and, admittedly, his favorite, even to this day—he's pressing his lips to hers, surprise and… something else… love, maybe… evident on her face.

His heart skipped a beat. He didn't know what to feel. "I haven't even thought about her in two years," he thought to himself.

"Who am I kidding?" he said out loud, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He thought about her often, and if he actually admitted it—he thought about her every single day.

He glanced back at the photo strip, memories of a summer five years prior flooding his mind…

Alex jogged down the beach, nothing but miles of sand and water before him, a million and a half things on his mind. He focused on placing one foot in front of the other as he jogged, careful not to go too fast as he pushed the sand-stroller in front of him, desperately trying to get as far away from his house as he could—it wasn't even ten o'clock a.m., but that didn't stop his parents from fighting. So like he usually did when things got tense—before his baby sister could witness things being thrown, even harsher words being said and worse—he scooped her up and took her down to the beach for a run.

He inhaled and exhaled as he heard the gentle morning waves whitecap near the shore, and he quickly found his rhythm. His sister's delighted squeal filtered through the air from time to time—he loved that little girl, and it was clear that she adored him just as much, if not more—almost forcing him to smile. About a mile down the way, near the pier, he slowed his pace to a walk.

"How about some ice cream, Maggie-pie?" he asked the little girl as he looked down at her and smiled.

She gave him a toothy grin and nodded. "Ice cream!" she cooed, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling in the sun. He smiled and ruffled her wavy, out of control blonde hair before standing up straight to push the stroller up the handicap restaurant to the boardwalk.

Once they got their ice cream—vanilla twist in a cup with sprinkles—Alex found an empty bench near the carousel and sat down. He spoon-fed the two-year-old little girl every few minutes, smiling as he watched how happy and innocent she was. He'd do everything he could to protect her—it was a promise that he'd made to their mother, and it was a promise that he was hell-bent on keeping.

Alex looked around the pier, daydreaming and distracted. He watched as a girl—no, she was a woman, definitely a woman with that body… probably his age—roller-bladed down the pier; her eyes caught his attention immediately, they sparkled in the mid-June summer sun. He didn't notice that Maggie was crying and reaching for him until that young blonde woman interrupted him.

"Hey!" she called as she approached Alex. She bent down and picked something up—Maggie's ratty old teddy bear, the one that used to be his—and handed it to the little girl, who immediately calmed down. She placed her hands on her hips. "Didn't you hear her crying?"

He felt his cheeks burn bright red. "Sorry, Mags," he said to the little girl; she smiled a pouty smile at him before popping her thumb into her mouth. Alex stood up, innocently (or so he thought) looking her up and down, and held his hand out. "I'm Alex."

"Isobel," she replied with a smile, taking his hand and shaking it softly. "But all my friends back home call me Izzie."

"Back home?"

"Yeah, up in New York," Izzie replied with a nod.

"Let me guess," Alex drawled. "You're 18… and you've come down here with your girlfriends after graduation for 'one last trip' before you go your separate ways for college? Am I right?" he asked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Izzie eyed him up and down before nodding, her cheeks a light shade of pink. With a new bout of confidence, she said, "And let me guess—you're a native. You hate the summer because these people come in for the Fourth and then leave. You think they're intruding. And you use baby… sister, I'm guessing, here as woman bait. Am I right?"

"Only about part of it," he said with a wink. She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Would you want to grab some dinner tonight… say 7:30, we'll meet by the Ferris wheel… take a walk on the beach."

Izzie rolled her eyes again. She glanced back down to Maggie, whose thumb was still in her mouth. "Do you bring the mini-me everywhere you go?" she asked, smiling down at the baby.

"Nah," Alex replied without a second's pause. "I'll leave her at home," he added, secretly thinking that he'd call his friend, Rachel, to watch her.

"Hey, Izz, you coming?" one of—he assumed—her friends called out. Izzie nodded and gave them a thumbs up before returning her attention to Alex.

"7:30, Ferris wheel. I'll see you there?" she asked.

It took Alex a moment to realize that she was accepting his invitation; his cheeks burned as he barely nodded. She laughed, "You better work on your game before then, Alex."

"Will do," he replied with a wink, regaining his confidence. "Say bye to Izzie, Maggie," he instructed his little sister.

Maggie glanced up at Izzie, slowly pulling her thumb from her mouth. "Bye-bye," the little girl cooed, waving slightly.

Izzie grinned and waved back. "See ya, Maggie!" she said softly as she turned. "Later, Alex," she called over her shoulder as she skated toward her pack of friends.

"Later!" he called after her before returning his attention to his baby sister. "Let's go, kid. I've got a hot date tonight," Alex added, to which Maggie giggled, squealed and clapped her hands—even a two-year-old noticed how lonely he was, he mused. He ruffled her hair and placed a kiss on her sticky cheek before stepping around the stroller and pushing it down the pier to head back home to prepare for his first night out in way too many months.

Alex approached the overcrowded Ferris wheel area of the pier at quarter to eight. He was late because Rachel was later—and that annoyed him. She'd tried to ask him too many questions, but that annoyed him even more. He tried to push back those thoughts—because she was honestly the closest thing he had to a best friend—but he couldn't help it, until he saw Izzie.

She was wearing jean cut-off shorts—which made her long, toned legs look as if they stretched forever. She wore a simple pair of flip-flops, and her shoulder-length blonde hair fell in waves—a change from the morning's ponytail. The camisole tank she was wearing was chocolate brown, accentuating her curves perfectly and making her deep eyes sparkle, even in the setting sun.

He paused for a moment, just to watch her. Her lower lip was tucked into her mouth as she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing nervously around the pier. Her eyes met his—casu consulto, accidentally on purpose—and he waved as he placed one foot in front of the other to close the distance between the two of them.

"You're late," Izzie teased as he approached her. "I thought you were standing me up!"

"Sorry," Alex replied. "I'd never do that," he added.

She smiled and nodded, and for a brief moment, an almost uneasy silence encapsulated the duo. Alex clapped his hands together and smiled at her. "So… hot dog or pizza?" he asked, glancing around to the various food stands along the pier.

Izzie grinned as she followed his gaze. "I'm more of a funnel cake and lemonade kind of girl," she said with a shrug. "To be honest, Alex, I'm not that hungry."

"I'm not either," he replied simply. "Do you just want to go for a walk along the beach, then?"

"Sure," Izzie nodded as she held her hand out to him—trusting him, letting him, essentially a stranger, take the lead.

He laced his fingers through hers, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. He playfully tugged on her arm, leading the way down the pier. As they reached the bottom of the old wooden steps that led down to the beach, he kicked his sandals off. Izzie followed suit and smiled shyly at him as he continued to lead them down to the edge of the water.

"So," Alex said as his feet sunk slightly into the dampened sand, tiny trickles of waves lapping at their feet. "Tell me about yourself, Izzie."

"What do you want to know?" she replied, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink as she released Alex's hand from her grip.

"Everything," Alex replied honestly.

She bit her lower lip—and already Alex could tell it was something that he did whenever she was nervous—and tucked some hair behind her ear.

"How long are you here?" he prompted.

"Until the end of July," she replied, visibly relaxing—she exhaled and her smile and the shimmer in her eyes returned. "It's beautiful here," she added before continuing to tell Alex about her plans for school following the summer, about who she was and who she hoped to be.

The duo walked down the beach until the pier was nothing but a sparkling glimmer behind them—nearly a mile away. "Maybe we should head on back," Alex suggested with a shrug.

Izzie nodded in agreement. "Now you have to tell me about yourself, Alex. It's only fair," she whispered, her eyes shimmering in the moon's reflection off of the ocean. She shivered involuntarily as they walked and he took that as his cue to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. Much to his surprise, she didn't resist; instead, she welcomed his embrace.

"What do you wanna know, Izz?"

"Tell me about Maggie," she replied. "I'm an only child, I don't have any siblings. She's so much younger than you… oh," she said, her mouth popping open to a perfect 'O', as if she realized that Maggie could be Alex's daughter. "Sorry," she blushed."

"No, you're right—she's my baby sister, born the summer I was sixteen," he replied quickly, glancing quickly to Izzie, watching as relief flooded her features. They were closer to the pier now, but still a good distance away. "My parents don't have the best relationship, but a few years ago, things were going well for them—and my mom discovered that she was pregnant. I was old enough to not have all of my mom's attention anymore—I think my dad was jealous when I was her sole focus for all of those years—so he was less than thrilled when Maggie was born."

"Oh, Alex," Izzie breathed.

"The day she was born, my mom made me promise that I'd protect her from my dad's anger and jealousy, that I'd be her 'knight in shining armor' and whisk her away when things got bad—and I knew that I had to. I vowed to never let Maggie live the life that I had as a kid: constantly being ridiculed, controlled by his alcoholism and anger… or worse...," Alex paused.

"Alex…," she whispered again, abruptly stopping. She stopped in her tracks and looked up at Alex, noticing for the first time the small scar above his right eyebrow. She gently traced it with her fingertip. "You don't have to say anything else, Alex, okay?" she whispered.

He reached up and covered her smaller hand with his, hating that he'd made her look so sad. "That's why we were on the pier this morning, Izzie, to escape it."

Knowing that he meant that he knew he probably wouldn't have met her otherwise, she timidly smiled. "I'm going to hug you now," she announced in a whisper before quickly wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. She allowed him—and he let her—to put his head on her shoulder and relax, and the two new… friends, maybe eventual lovers… bonded together beneath the pale moonlight on the beach.

***

Something between them changed that night; they returned to the pier, grabbed a funnel cake and ice cream to snack on and sat and talked on the same bench where they had met earlier that day. They talked about the schools they would be attending in the fall—she, NYU and he, a local community college to stay nearby—and how excited, scared, nervous they were. She rattled on and on about her best friends, her mother, her life in New York, and he listened intently, and he could tell—almost immediately—that he was falling for this girl, and definitely wanted to spend more time with her.

***

For the next few days, they spent a majority of their time together; Alex would take Maggie to the beach to play, and Izzie and her friends would join them. While her friends lounged around—soaking up the hot, Southern sun—Izzie and Alex often played games or built sand castles with Maggie. One day, while Maggie was napping in the cool shade of her stroller, and Izzie's friends had promised they'd keep an eye on the sleeping toddler, Alex and Izzie went for a walk along the edge of the crowded beach.

Their toes sunk in the wet sand, leaving two sets of footprints in the sand. They talked and laughed; Alex mostly listened as Izzie talked about how much she adored the quaint beach town, and how she was glad she met Alex and Maggie. Alex was just about to tell Izzie that he was just as grateful to have met her—something that almost scared him, because it was the first time he was actually being honest with a girl who wasn't Rachel—she stepped on a broken shell and sliced her foot open.

"Shit, ow!" she yelped as she instinctively lifted her right foot up and grabbed onto Alex's left shoulder to balance.

He glanced down and saw the blood, his eyes widening once he saw how wide and deep the cut was. "Jesus," he said out loud.

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry.

He shook his head. "I think we'll have to take you to the hospital, Izzie—it looks pretty… wide and… deep. Here," Alex paused as he led her further into the water. "Put your foot down for a second so we can clean it… the salt should help, but it'll sting…," he advised.

She did as she instructed and winced in pain, tears springing to her eyes. "Shit, Alex, it does," she whimpered.

Without a moment's pause, he scooped her up over his shoulder—and carried her all the way back to where her friends and Maggie were. He, along with one of her friends, helped her balance; then, he pulled some gauze and medical tape from Maggie's diaper bag. He pressed the gauze to her foot to soak up some of the blood, then wrapped it twice and followed up with the medical tape to keep pressure on the wound.

"Don't put any weight on it, you might make it bleed more," Alex instructed. He pulled his shirt on and slipped his sandals on before handing her the tank top and shorts that were in her beach bag. "Can you push the stroller to my Jeep?" he asked one friend; she nodded, and Alex scooped Izzie back up and carried her to the car.

***

Because of her injury—which required lots of TLC because of the cut's location—she spent more of the days leading up to the Fourth of July lounging on the beach with Alex and Maggie. Alex's mother was happy that her boy was out having fun; on more than one occasion, she had asked him if she could meet the girl who was "stealing her baby's heart."

At first, he'd wanted to refuse, because of his dad, and because of what Izzie knew. But he didn't want to hurt her feelings—he'd seen the look on her face when he told her no—so eventually he agreed.

On July 4th, which would be considered their second date, he'd asked Izzie to meet him at his house. They'd do the awkward-introductions thing, followed by a quick lunch, and then he and Izzie would head down to the pier to spend the day together, and probably stay out long enough to watch the fireworks. (It really was the perfect timing, too—his dad was out of town, visiting a 'friend' and Alex felt relaxed enough to leave his little sister in his mother's care.)

She happily agreed, because she, too, had been bugging him to meet his mom. He spent the entire night before cleaning and preparing, and telling his mom what to say and what not to say.

Izzie arrived just before eleven a.m., right on schedule, dressed in a white sundress that only accentuated her curves and highlighted her golden, sun-kissed skin. She carried a bouquet of daisies in her hands—he watched her through the window for a moment before opening the door; he smiled at her as her bottom lip slipped into her mouth and she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"Alex, honey, open the door," his mom teased him as she placed Maggie down on the floor. "Don't make her wait out in the heat!"

Alex shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Mom…"

"Open the door," she instructed, nodding him on.

Alex laughed a little—happy to see his mother in such a good mood, especially on this day—before he opened the door. "Hey, Izz," he said, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek and secretly breathed in her scent—suntan lotion mixed with vanilla.

"Hey," she grinned. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Karev," she blushed as she noticed his mother standing there behind Alex.

"Please, call me Renee," his mother cooed as she pulled Izzie in for a quick hug. "And you must be Izzie! Alex has told me so much about you!" she said excitedly; Izzie raised and eyebrow at Alex. He just blushed and shook his head. "Come in, come in… can I get you anything? Water? Lemonade?"

"Mom," Alex warned as she finally released Izzie from the hug. Izzie—semi-awkwardly—held the flowers out to Renee, who whisked them straight away into the kitchen, mumbling something about a vase.

"Hi, Maggie!" Izzie cooed as she waved to the little girl.

"Belle!" Maggie grinned as she jumped up and down. "Gimme five!" she squealed as she approached Izzie, her arms outstretched.

Izzie scooped the little girl up and blew a raspberry on her cheek. She bounced her up and down on her hip and hugged her close before returning her attention to Alex. "So what's the plan for the day?"

"Lunch here," Alex shrugged, "then I figured we can do the 'tourist' thing… hang out on the pier… whatever you wanna do."

Izzie's eyes sparkled. "Will you win me a teddy bear?"

"Oh, those things are impossible to win," he deadpanned.

"Humor me," Izzie drawled in a mock southern accent.

"Lunch is ready, kids!" Renee called from the kitchen. Maggie kicked at Izzie and grinned, so Izzie set her down, and within seconds she was gone, leaving Alex and Izzie in the entryway of the house.

Izzie smiled and held her hand out to Alex. "Lead the way," she said softly as he gripped her hand; they walked together down the hallway towards the small kitchen-slash-dining room area and joined Alex's mom and sister for a typical summertime meal.

***

Just short of three hours later—after Renee had (slightly) embarrassed Alex by asking Izzie dozens of questions and Maggie had thrown her hot dog pieces around the kitchen—Alex and Izzie were arriving at the packed boardwalk. Alex had expected the seemingly endless crowd, but Izzie, obviously, had not. Her eyes widened as they approached the steps they had taken the first night they met.

"Wow," was all she said. "It's been busy before, but never…"

"This? It's nothing," Alex interrupted. "Just wait until later, say… 3:30-4 o'clock. That's when it gets way out of control," he teased. "Bands will be setting up, people will be coming round for dinner… not to mention once the sun goes down, and there are fireworks…"

Izzie stopped them in their tracks, jerking Alex slightly backward from the sudden stop. "Alex?"

"Yeah?"

"What's it like once August rolls around?" she asked, her voice so small, it was almost a whisper.

"Everything shuts down—kids go back to school, so tourism stops pretty quickly. The pier is open year-round, but really, it's like a ghost town. Summer is the time of year this place makes all its money; without it, I'd think we'd go bankrupt."

"That's so … sad."

"You get used to it," he replied, pushing thoughts of the impending Autumn silence as far back into his mind as he could. "Now come on," Alex added a beat later, the smile returning to his face. Izzie smiled too. "What color teddy bear do you want?"

***

Five hours—and exactly twenty-six dollars and fifty cents, a prize goldfish, and a funnel cake and lemonade for each of them—later, Alex had won a medium-sized pink teddy bear for Izzie. He had made an ass out of himself—trying to knock down old milk bottles with a softball, or attempting to make a basket at a rigged basketball hoop, or looping a plastic ring around the neck of a coke bottle with a fishing rod (where he got the fish). He'd been extremely embarrassed (and frustrated), but Izzie had mostly smiled and laughed, cheering him on. She'd even told him that he could 'stop wasting his money' and give up, but that only made him more determined to win the prize.

Finally, he'd won her the teddy bear at one of those balloon-dart games; he'd felt confident as he handed her the stuffed animal, and she had smiled and hugged him tightly.

Now they walked hand in hand down the pier; Izzie held the bear in her right hand, and Alex had a quickly-melting ice cream cone in his left. They talked and laughed—mostly people watching—as they approached the end of the pier farthest from the beach, where nothing but an old photo booth and a row of port-a-potties were.

"Oooh, Alex," Izzie said as she looked up into his eyes, her own green-brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can we take some pictures? Please?"

He smiled. "I doubt that thing works. No one ever uses it."

"Could we try? Please, Alex?" She batted her eyelashes—her charm turned on high, he was wrapped around her finger for sure—and he couldn't even pretend to say 'no.'

Instead, he finished up the cone and reached into his jean shorts pocket, fishing eight quarters from the pocket. "Sure," he replied simply, shrugging a bit as her smile widened and she skipped toward the photo booth, pulling Alex along behind her.

They sat down in the booth and aligned themselves—she on the right, and he on the left. He deposited the coins—all eight of them for double copies; one for her, one for him—into the coin acceptor and sat back, placing his arm around her shoulder. The old machine whirred and whined, and Alex silently hoped that it would work; when the on-screen countdown began, he sighed in relief and smiled at the camera.

"Quick, next one!" Izzie laughed as she stuck her tongue out. Alex crossed his eyes and made a peace sign behind her head, fighting off laughter, as the second flash bulb popped.

They couldn't quite fight off the giggles in time for the next picture, and they realized it as soon as the third flash went off. "Oops," Izzie laughed as Alex reached out and placed his palm on her cheek. He moved her face, guiding her so her eyes locked on his, and her mouth popped open in surprise as the fourth flash popped.

And then… perhaps due to adrenaline, or lust, or… something… he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her for the very first time in that old photo booth as the fifth—and final—flash bulb popped. She kissed him back, but suddenly jerked away a few seconds later.

"Sorry," she blushed as she stood, pulling the black curtain back. Izzie looked down into Alex's eyes—he swore he saw tears in her eyes—and shook her head; she reached for the teddy bear, and without waiting for the picture strips to finish printing, she ran out of the photo booth.

By the time Alex reached down for the photos and stepped out of the booth, she was long gone—just a small blur of white dress and golden hair at the opposite end of the pier, almost appearing… angelic… as the sky began to turn different hues of pink and orange and the sun began to set.

***

He walked dejectedly down the pier, barely even looking at the photographs before slipping them into his wallet for safekeeping. He wasn't sure where he went wrong—they'd spent nearly every day of the last three or so weeks together. She was different than any other girl he'd ever met, including Rachel; she wasn't looking for, or more importantly expecting, sex. She didn't scoff or turn her cheek when she found out about his family. She didn't mind when he brought Maggie along.

Up until that point, he hadn't even tried to kiss her, no matter how badly he wanted to before. The thought had barely ever crossed his mind—he was truly interested in getting to know Isobel Stevens for exactly who she was.

Maybe kissing her was a mistake, maybe he had misinterpreted all of the hugs… and conversations… and mixed signals and flirtations.

Alex sighed; he knew he had to find her and apologize.

The pier was beginning to grow quieter as people began to settle down in their 'spots' for the fireworks show that was still nearly an hour and a half away, and it was getting darker and darker by the minute. He walked quickly, dodging runaway children and hot dog vendors as he did so, all the while his eyes searched his surroundings, praying, hoping, wishing that he'd spot Izzie.

And there she was, slowly walking down the beach at the water's edge, teddy bear in one hand and flip flops in the other. Her long blonde hair was whipping around her face—it was still pretty windy near the ocean's shore, causing a chill to filter through the air.

His heart skipped a beat as he reached the steps down to the beach; he hopped down them two at a time and jumped down the last few, landing in the soft sand, slightly twisting his ankle. He winced but shook it off as he followed after Izzie.

"Izz," he called out behind her. She either didn't hear him, or pretended not to, because she kept on walking, creating a bigger gap between the two of them. "Izzie, hey! Izzie!"

That seemed to get her attention, because she stopped in her tracks as a small wave cracked at her ankles. She turned slowly and faced Alex as he approached her; her make-up stained her cheeks, her eyes shimmered behind the layer of salty tears that still lined her eyes. "Hey," Alex said softly as he reached out and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, looking more broken and vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. Alex's heart broke a little bit on the inside as her lower lip sunk into her mouth—her classic move of defense. "I shouldn't have…"

"No, I'm the one who shouldn't…," his voice trailed off as she shook her head.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" Izzie asked suddenly, glancing back to the pier. "I have a lot of things to say to you, and I'm not sure where to begin, and I can't think when you're looking at me like that…"

His eyes softened, his heart beat wildly in his chest. "C'mon," he responded, reaching out and wiping her smudged mascara off of her cheeks with his thumb. "I know the perfect place."

***

He led her back toward the pier, tugging gently on her arm as he led the way. They paused briefly at the bottom of the rickety steps, long enough so Izzie could slip her sandals back on. They didn't say a word as they reached the oh-so-public, yet intimately private place where they would have another one of their 'serious' talks.

Alex handed the young man who was operating the Ferris wheel a twenty dollar bill—and Izzie cringed, partially because she was terrified of heights and partially because twenty dollars was a lot of money for Alex, and he could have spent it in about, oh, thirty better ways—and told him that he wanted them to go around several times.

And though the ride was technically closed, the operator didn't say a word, instead he nodded in understanding, pulled the chained rope back and allowed Alex and Izzie access to the loading space.

Izzie bit on her lower lip. "Alex…"

"Don't be scared, Izz," he told her, meaning so many things, all at the same time. "Johnny will take good care of us, won't ya, Johnny?"

"You got it, Karev," Johnny smiled.

Alex slid into the Ferris wheel car first and looked back at Izzie. She still looked quite nervous, so he held his hand out toward her. "Come on, Izzie," he said softly. "Trust me."

She nodded and took his hand, gingerly stepping on to the bench in the car. She sat down quickly, so close to Alex that she was almost on top of him. Johnny just smiled as he tugged down on the lap bar, locking it into place, to assure his last passengers' of the night safety.

***

Within a moment, the Ferris wheel groaned as the gears shifted, and the car rocked back and forth slightly as they began the counter-clockwise rotation on the Ferris wheel. Izzie dug her nails into Alex's hand and buried her head in his shoulder, her eyes clenched shut; they stayed like that—absolutely silent but for the sounds of the tourists and locals on the pier below them—for two whole revolutions.

Alex signaled for Johnny to stop the ride, just as they reached the highest point of the rotation.

"Are we done yet?" Izzie asked, still attached to Alex.

"Open your eyes, Izzie," Alex encouraged as he used his right hand to pry her fingers off of his left hand. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, barely taking in a glance around the area, before she quickly moved back to her previous stance, causing the car to sway back and forth.

"Alex!" she yelped.

"We're okay," he encouraged. "Nothing bad'll happen… this is the best view of the place, Izz. Especially on Fourth of July—you don't wanna miss it."

"Promise you won't let me fall, Alex."

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Alex replied sincerely.

She released his arms from her death-grip and faced forward, slowly opening her eyes. He watched her inhale deeply as she looked around the open air, nothing but open space and ocean and beach for miles around them. She gasped as she took it all in, mesmerized by the quaint beach town, the shimmering lights and the openness of their current location.

She avoided eye contact and speaking with Alex for another few long moments. Until she finally said, "I'm scared, Alex."

"I can tell Johnny to start it back up… we can be down to the ground in no time," Alex said quickly, not wanting to upset her any more than she already was.

"No!" she interjected. "No, that's not what I'm talking about, Alex. I'm scared about us…"

"Us."

"Yes," she replied, fresh tears lining her eyes as she looked deep into Alex's chocolate brown gateways. "I'm down here for three more weeks, Alex. After that, I'm going home—to New York. To a world of school and social life and making the best impression… 24/7. It's constant; it never, ever stops. Do you know how tiring and hard it is to live like that?"

Alex only shook his head in response, knowing that she had more to say, so he let her.

"Manhattan is like, a thousand miles away from here, Alex—both in distance, and in … structure, if that makes sense. Here, life relaxes. There, it doesn't. I've never…" she stopped abruptly, as if she were scared of continuing.

"You've never what?" he prompted.

"I've never met a boy like you, Alex. Most guys in Manhattan… they're just… they like my boobs. My blonde hair. My long legs. They don't care about me, or getting to know me. They want sex—and that's all. But you," she said softly, seriously. "You're this amazing guy, who pretends to be so macho and tough—but you're really a softy. You care about me. You don't try to push me further than I'm willing to go. And I'm scared that, when I leave in three weeks, this will all be like a dream and we'll never speak again."

Silence consumed them for a few long minutes. A tear slipped down her cheek, slowly leaving a wet trail down her sun-kissed skin, taunting and teasing Alex, waiting for him to make a move. Butterflies flapped wildly in his stomach. And without giving it another thought, he leaned over and kissed her cheek, pressing his lips to the salty tear before it could fall off of her face.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice so soft and sincere that she almost didn't hear him.

But Izzie knew what he said—she knew by the honest look in his eyes, by the way his voice cracked ever so slightly. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks and pressed her forehead to his. And then, bravery and confidence returning to Alex's spirit, he pressed his lips to hers.

She deepened the kiss, her lips parting just enough to allow for a deep, perfect, breath-taking first kiss.

And there they were, swaying in the slight winds, rocking back and forth high above the small city and its people, their lips and hearts aligned—finally—as the first few rounds of fireworks lit up the dark, Fourth of July sky.

"Hey, lover boy," Rachel cooed, effectively breaking Alex of his daydreams.

He blushed and shook his head, stuffing the picture strip into his bag and slamming the locker door shut. "Hey."

"It's nearly quarter to five… what have you been doing back here all this time?" she asked, looking at Alex over the top rim of her glasses as she crossed her arms. Rachel must have noticed how red his cheeks were, because she shook her head again. "Were you thinking of that girl again?" Rachel asked as she raised an eyebrow.

"None of your damn business, Rachel," Alex replied as he swung the backpack around, placing his arm through the strap and letting it bounce against his hip. "I really have to get going."

"You were thinking of her, weren't you? I don't know why, she hasn't spoken to you in… what? Four years?"

"Yeah, well, I broke her heart, didn't I?" Alex replied simply as he sidestepped his nosy best friend.

"You lied to her, Alex. You completely blindsided her, she was trying to help," Rachel retorted, earning a dirty look from Alex. "I don't know what went wrong between the two of you, Alex. From the day you met, I'd always assumed you were going to marry her."

"Things change, Rach," he replied, trying to sidestep her again. "I really do have to get going."

She let him pass, knowing that if she held him back any longer, he'd get angry—talking about Izzie always had that effect on him. She sighed as she turned and watched him go—he gave Sammy another treat and hugged her before he stomped out of the office, letting the old wooden door slam shut behind him.

Alex stalked off to his truck, tossing the backpack and all of its contained memories into the bed of the truck. He yanked on the driver's side door—not remembering (or caring) that his boss wanted to speak to him before he left—and climbed into the truck. He shoved the keys into the ignition, revved the engine, and put the truck into reverse, the tires screeching and sand-and-gravel flying everywhere.

He turned the radio up loud, hoping that the staticky music would prevent his thoughts from traveling to the June the year after he and Izzie met…

Though dating long distance was difficult for the dynamic duo, they somehow remained close. They talked on the phone and through e-mail and text messages quite often. Neither of them had Friday classes, so once a month, either one of them would travel to meet the other—usually Izzie would come down to see Maggie and Renee, too.

Alex's father had left them in March; one morning, he packed all of his stuff up and left with no explanation. And though Renee was sad, a calm sense of relief seemed to encapsulate the small beach bungalow, something even Izzie could pick up on her monthly visits.

Once her semester was over, she'd migrated to the beach town to stay in a rental cottage—a place that provided the young couple privacy when they needed it.

But one day, things went sour; Alex was agitated—every little thing seemed to set him off. Renee was having a horrible day, crying and miserable over her unfaithful, alcoholic husband's sudden, non-explanatory departure. Maggie was quiet and withdrawn—something her preschool teachers and pediatrician were concerned about. Bills were mounting, Alex was constantly working, but it still wasn't enough. It seemed as if every other day, final notifications were arriving at the house, containing threats of cutting off the electricity/water/cable/phone services.

Alex had just returned from a long fourteen-hour shift—the old Ferris wheel was broken, something that his boss demanded needed to be fixed within the next week. Izzie was playing with Maggie in the living room, and Renee was attempting to get ready for her late shift at the diner in town. He kicked his shoes off, told them he was taking a quick shower and that he'd be right out.

An hour later, and Alex still hadn't returned to the living room. Izzie turned on her iPod and gave Maggie the headphones, something the little girl absolutely adored. She walked down the dark hallway to the kitchen, where she saw Alex—dressed only in basketball shorts and a wife-beater—sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hey," she said softly.

He didn't acknowledge her presence; instead, he angrily ripped another envelope open.

"Alex?"

"Maggie's school is threatening to kick her out if we don't pay half of the balance by Friday," Alex sighed. "That's over six hundred dollars. I'll never get that much money in three days, Izz," he confessed.

"I can watch her," Izzie said softly.

"That's not the point, Isobel," Alex retorted, emphasizing her full name—he never called her Isobel. Never. Her confidence and resolve wavered ever so slightly at the angry pronunciation of her name. "The point is that I'm the man of the house, and I can't even provide for my own family. She can't go to school, we're about to lose water and electricity."

"Let me help you, Alex," she offered as she sat down in the chair beside him. She picked up a small stack of bills, the red letters—FINAL NOTICE!—catching and keeping her attention. She inhaled sharply as she looked through them all. "I'll move in here with you guys, get a job… I can ask my mom to send some money, too."

"No."

"What do you mean, no? I'm just trying…"

"No. I'm not your goddamned charity case, Izzie!" Alex spat as he stood from his chair. "I didn't ask you to come down here to 'help' me raise my sister, or help pay my bills…"

"I know that," she replied softly. "I came because I love you."

Alex didn't respond; instead, he walked out of the kitchen, down the front hallways and out the front door, slamming it behind him, leaving Izzie to deal with the enormity of the situation, and to take care of his little sister.

***

When Alex returned home six hours later, Izzie had called her mother and asked for an additional five thousand dollars—she lied, explaining that the house would cost more than anticipated, but her mother happily obliged, for five thousand dollars was nothing but a small blemish in Izzie's generous trust fund from her dead, former-rockstar father. She had paid the bills—all of them—and restocked the fridge; she fed, bathed and tucked Maggie in, singing her sweet lullabies from her childhood.

She sat in the silence on the couch, unable to sleep. Her iPod was dead, and Alex wasn't answering her calls or texts. So she sat there, hoping and praying that he'd come home—and that he wouldn't be too mad that she'd taken care of the things that he'd told her not to.

He stumbled in some time around 3:30.

"Hey," she said softly as she stood from her place on the couch.

He just nodded.

"We should talk, Alex," Izzie encouraged. She spoke softly—her tone was a mixture of sadness and vulnerability—as she tried to make eye contact with her boyfriend. "Come sit down, okay?"

He sighed as he walked toward the couch and sat beside Izzie; in an attempt to connect with her, he placed her head on her chest.

"Don't be mad at me," she began, and he instantly picked his head up. "But I took care of everything—Maggie's school, the bills… the fridge is full."

"I told you not to," came his cold, insincere response.

"I know, Alex. But I just… I needed to. It was nothing."

He scoffed. "Yeah, to you, it's nothing. What'd you do, call your mom? Tell her that your loser boyfriend is in trouble and needs a charity hand-out? Did she click her tongue and grant you, your highness, access to some off-shore account?"

"Why are you acting like this, Alex?" Izzie asked as she looked at him. He just sucked in a deep breath—and Izzie could smell the potent scent of cheap, toxic liquor on his breath. "It was something I wanted to do."

Alex let a silent five minutes pass between them. Perhaps in a normal, sober state, he would have seen her side of the 'argument'—she genuinely loved and cared about him and his family. But the guilt he felt—for not being able to take care of Maggie and Renee in his father's absence—perhaps was the most intoxicating, overpowering piece of the puzzle.

Scared that he might actually need to depend on someone, that he let her get too close, that it had become suddenly way too personal—and too damn stubborn to admit that fact—Alex blurted, "I had sex with Rachel."

"What?" Izzie somehow managed to choke out.

"Yeah," was all he replied. It was a lie—of course. He'd never been interested in Rachel as more than a friend; she'd been there to take care of Maggie or help him with homework or help take care of his mom in the past—but that was it. There wasn't even a trace of sexual chemistry between the pair.

Without another word—and without allowing her tears to fall in front of Alex—Izzie stood and left the house, slamming the door behind her… and walking out of Alex's life… forever.

He'd tried to call her, of course. He tried to e-mail her, text her—hell, he'd even gone up to New York for a week, searching for her any and everywhere. She had only ever replied once—she called the house and left a message, asking him to stop contacting her, or she'd get a lawyer. Her voice sounded broken, small—unlike the Izzie he had known and loved.

He then changed his focus; he did the best he could in school, trying to ace all of his courses. He worked with Maggie, helping the little girl learn her ABC's and 123's—and after several months, her teachers saw drastic improvements. He got a second job, working by day and attending school by night. Alex finally chose a major and pursued it; worked his ass off to get into Medical school.

And all of his hard work paid off—for that's what he was doing now: leaving the small North Carolina town behind, once and for all, all of the memories of his first (and only) love behind. He, though hesitant at first, felt better about leaving: his mother had a better job as a legal secretary; Maggie was growing into a beautiful, smart, talented spirit; his father was in jail in Georgia facing assault… okay, attempted murder… charges with no chance of parole; and Rachel (once she got over being angry with Alex for what he did to Izzie) had promised she'd watch over them.

He shook his head, once again trying to control his wild thoughts. Breathe in, breathe out. He looked into his rearview mirror as he drove west away from the boardwalk, the pier and the giant Ferris wheel fading into the background as he drove away. He navigated the truck carefully through the side streets and parked on the street in front of his house.

Alex unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the truck; he closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he approached the house. He stepped into the house—and it seemed quiet… too quiet.

"Mags?" he called out, knowing that if she were home, he'd see her careening toward the front door—her blonde curls bouncing behind her as she ran toward him for a big hug—any moment now. "Maggie?"

He stepped toward the living room, listening for any signs of his sister or mother. He was nervous—but then he felt relieved when he heard his sister talking animatedly to someone on the phone.

"Oh!" she squealed, her eyes lighting up when she saw him. "Alex is home now—but only for a second," she paused, holding her index finger up toward him. "Yeah, he's leavin' for doctor school tonight. Okay, okay—you can talk. Bye!" Maggie chirped as she stood from her place on the couch.

"Who is it?" Alex mouthed, but Maggie only grinned—her top front teeth still missing, always a late bloomer—as she handed him the phone.

"Hello?" Alex said softly into the phone. He heard a sharp intake of breath, but nothing more than that. "Hello?" he prompted again as he glanced back to the phone—the seconds were still counting and passing, so the call hadn't been dropped.

His sister was grinning at him like a fool; unable to stand her intense, happy stare a moment longer, he took the phone and walked out onto the back porch. "Hello?" he whispered again, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"Alex, it's me."

His heart went wild—lub dub, lub dub, lub dub—as her voice attacked his ears. His stomach churned and he closed his eyes, again going back five years to when life was easy and they were so in love. "Izz," he breathed.

"I'm so glad I caught you—Rachel said you had just left the office?"

"Yeah," came his one-worded response. Even after four years of silence, she rendered him speechless, unable to think, breathe, speak, respond. "What's up?"

"Do you have time to meet me for dinner before you go? The diner where your mom worked is good—I know you have to get going, it's near the highway. It won't take long," she reassured him.

Without a moments pause, he agreed. "Of course. I can be there in an hour or so? I have to say goodbye to Maggie-pie and my mom."

"Oh yeah, of course," Izzie replied. "Just text me on this number when you're nearby. I'll see you soon, Alex," she whispered, and a second later, the line was dead.

Maggie was waiting at the sliding glass door when he approached the back steps. "Was that really Izzie? Alex? Was it? Huh?" she demanded to know as she bounced up and down on her heels.

"Yeah, that was Izzie," he replied, ruffling the little girl's hair.

"Awesome," she grinned as she smiled at her older brother.

***

Nearly an hour later—after exchanging long, drawn-out goodbyes with his mom and sister, with plenty of tears and laughter from each of them—Alex was pulling into a parking space at the old truck stop diner near the highway. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and texted Izzie— "I'm here"—before exiting the truck. He took a deep breath as he paused at the door—he glanced around the dining area of the restaurant, and there she was, clear as day.

She sat by herself in a small cornier booth, her hair shorter now—hitting just above her shoulder—but still as blonde as ever. Her eyes sparkled and shined, much like they used to—only she looked a little bit older now, just the same as he did, he supposed. He sucked in a second deep breath and opened the door; the bell above the door chimed, signaling his arrival, and Izzie's attention snapped toward the door and she made eye contact with Alex.

Alex offered her a small wave. "Hey," he said softly as he approached the booth.

She stood and smiled—fidgeting a little—before offering him her hand. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, choosing to hug her instead; he pulled her close—and they fit perfectly together, just like they had all those years ago.

"Hi," she said softly as she pulled back. "You look… good."

He smiled down at her. "You look … beautiful, like you always have," he said honestly as he sat down in the booth across from her. She blushed—her cheeks a deep shade of red—as she, too, sat down. "So."

"So," she repeated—and then her lower lip slid into her mouth and her upper teeth pressed down on the pink flesh.

His heart melted a little bit—she was the same girl he had loved before, of course she was, some things never changed. Isobel Stevens included.

"Rachel told me everything, Alex," Izzie blurted as she made eye contact with her former lover. She smiled shyly. "I get why you lied to me, I do… but…"

"I'm so sorry," he began. He continued to tell her just how sorry he was—telling her how he always thought of her, wondered what she was up to. How much he had missed her, and how big of an asshole he was for lying to her to begin with. And most importantly, how grateful and thankful he was that she didn't listen to him and stepped in to help him when he needed him most.

"It's okay…," she replied. "We do crazy things for the people we love sometimes," Izzie said softly. "You're probably wondering why I'm coming back now, right?"

Alex only nodded as he sipped on his coffee, waiting for her to continue.

"You know that I grew up in New York, with everything I've ever wanted handed to me, right?" she began slowly, watching Alex carefully as he nodded, encouraging her to continue. "I grew up an only child, with just my mother and my nanny. I never met my dad," she continued. "And I know all about your father, Alex. I know that it kills you that he was such a bastard to your mother, and to your sister, and even to you… especially to you. But the common thread here, is that we both grew up—essentially—without fathers."

Alex eyed her carefully as she shifted in her seat. She reached into her purse and pulled her wallet out; she unclasped the wallet, and pulled two photographs from within it. One photograph was her photo strip—the matching one that he had found only hours before—and the other was of a little boy. She pushed it across the table toward him, and he stared at it intently for a few long moments. Alex's breath hitched in his throat, recognizing the boy's eyes to be his own—but the rest of him… his facial structure, ears, nose, lips, everything… was all Izzie.

"I don't want him to grow up without his daddy, too, Alex," she said a brief moment later, her voice cracking as a tear slipped down her cheek.

"What's his name?" Alex managed to ask, as a few tears managed to escape his own eyes and trickle down his cheeks.

"Tyler," she answered. "Tyler Alexander."

Alex smiled as he looked back across the table to Izzie. "Is he here?"

She shook her head, and Alex's face fell. "He's in New York with my mom… I didn't want it to be too much too fast for you… or him. He knows all about you, and his grandma Renee and aunt Maggie, though," Izzie explained, and the smile returned to Alex's lips.

They talked for a few more minutes—all about the little boy who belonged solely to them—as they finished their coffees and desserts. They decided to head back to the pier together to watch the sunset and talk for just a while longer.

Alex and Izzie walked hand in hand down the beach—and for a good eight blocks, they were the only ones around. The sun was beginning to set, the sky a painted purple-pink-orange-blue, and the moon and stars were beginning to become just a little more prominent in the almost-nighttime sky.

Alex stopped suddenly once they neared the boardwalk, jerking her backwards slightly, and unable to prevent it, he pressed his lips to hers—kissing her like he'd wanted to all evening. They stayed there like that—electricity and love and lust and relief bubbling between them—for quite some time, just holding and reassuring one another, their fears dissolving minute by minute and knowing that everything would somehow work out in the end.

"Alex," Izzie said suddenly. "Don't you have to get going? Maggie said you were leaving for school…"

"Change of plans," Alex said simply. "I'm going to New York."

"But what about medical school?" Izzie asked softly, scanning his eyes with hers—and noticing the sincerity and love within his chocolate brown eyes.

"Some things," he explained to his former summer love, "are more important than school."

She nodded, a smile slowly spreading across her face. A slight squeal escaped her lips as Alex pulled her in for a tight hug and scooped her up, spinning her around in the sand.

And it was there—back in Izzie's arms for the first time in entirely too long, beneath the moon and the stars and the lights on the old Ferris wheel—where Alex felt like he was home…

Loved.

Safe.

Alive.

—END—