It was the height of summer at Cousins Beach, and Isabel "Belly" Conklin was living her best life—or so she thought. The sun was shining, the waves were crashing, and she was feeling pretty good about herself after finally nailing her dive off the pier (even though Conrad still hadn't said anything about it).

But everything changed one lazy afternoon when she was scrolling through Instagram at the beach house, slathered in sunscreen and sipping on a lemonade. Her phone pinged with a DM, and she opened it, squinting against the glare.

"Congrats, Belly! You're officially the Best Beach Bitch Ever! "

Belly blinked, then sat up straighter. "What?"

She clicked on the profile of the sender, an anonymous account with a profile picture of a seashell and the handle BeachBitchWatch. The bio read: "Crowning Cousins Beach's finest since 2023. ️"

"What the heck is this?" Belly muttered.

Taylor Jewel, her best friend and part-time meddler, popped her head over the couch. "What are you mumbling about now?"

Belly turned the phone toward her. "Look at this. Someone called me the 'Best Beach Bitch Ever.'"

Taylor snorted, grabbing the phone. "Okay, first of all, amazing. Second of all, who sent it?"

"That's what I want to know," Belly said, crossing her arms. "Why would someone even make this account?"

Taylor grinned. "Who cares? You're officially a legend, Belly. Own it."

But Belly wasn't convinced. Who was behind this mysterious branding? And why?

At dinner that night, Belly couldn't stop thinking about it. She stared at her plate of grilled fish and corn on the cob, her mind racing.

Jeremiah Fisher, ever the cheerful instigator, noticed her distraction. "What's up, Bells? You look like you're plotting something."

"Someone called me the 'Best Beach Bitch Ever,'" Belly blurted out.

Jeremiah choked on his lemonade, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. "Wait, what?"

Conrad Fisher, sitting across the table, raised an eyebrow. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know!" Belly said, throwing her hands up. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Steven, Belly's older brother, smirked. "Probably someone trying to mess with you. You sure it's not Taylor?"

"It's not me!" Taylor said defensively. "Though I wish I'd thought of it."

Conrad shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Maybe it's just some random person. It doesn't have to mean anything."

"Doesn't have to mean anything?" Belly repeated, glaring at him. "Someone made an account for this. It's a thing now."

Jeremiah grinned. "Well, if it's a thing, you've gotta find out who's behind it."

Belly nodded, determination lighting up her face. "Exactly."

The next day, Belly and Taylor started their investigation. They walked up and down Cousins Beach, interrogating anyone who looked remotely suspicious.

"Hey, have you heard of BeachBitchWatch?" Taylor asked a lifeguard.

The lifeguard looked confused. "Is that a new sunscreen brand?"

"No," Taylor said, exasperated. "It's an Instagram account."

"I only follow dog accounts," the lifeguard replied, shrugging.

Belly sighed. "This is pointless. Whoever it is probably isn't just hanging out on the beach announcing it."

"Don't give up yet," Taylor said. "We'll crack this."

That evening, Belly had a brainstorm. She decided to post a story on her own Instagram: "Whoever BeachBitchWatch is, reveal yourself. I need answers."

Within minutes, her DMs exploded. Most of them were jokes or random emojis, but one stood out.

"You don't find the Beach Bitch. The Beach Bitch finds you."

"What does that even mean?" Belly groaned, showing Taylor.

"It means this person is living rent-free in your head," Taylor said. "And I love it."

The next day, Belly's frustration reached a boiling point when she walked into the local ice cream shop and overheard two girls whispering.

"Did you see BeachBitchWatch's latest post? Belly's on fire!"

"She's, like, a Cousins Beach icon now."

Belly marched over to them, her hands on her hips. "Do you know who's running that account?"

The girls froze, wide-eyed. "Uh, no," one of them said. "We just think it's cool."

"Cool?" Belly said, her voice rising. "It's driving me insane!"

The girls exchanged nervous glances and scurried out of the shop.

Finally, Belly decided to take a more strategic approach. She gathered Jeremiah, Steven, and Taylor in the living room and laid out her plan.

"Okay," she began, pacing. "We need to think like this person. If you were going to create an account about someone being the 'Best Beach Bitch,' why would you do it?"

"Maybe they're a fan," Jeremiah suggested.

"Or a hater," Steven said, smirking. "Could go either way."

Taylor chimed in. "Or they're just bored and thought it'd be funny."

Belly sighed. "None of this helps."

"Or," Conrad said from the doorway, "you could just ignore it and move on with your life."

Belly whirled around. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one being branded as the 'Best Beach Bitch.'"

Conrad smirked. "Could be worse."

Belly threw a pillow at him.

The mystery dragged on for days. Belly started noticing more people referencing the account—on the beach, at the local diner, even in the grocery store.

"Hey, Best Beach Bitch!" someone called out as she walked past.

Belly groaned. "This is my nightmare."

But then, one night, she got a DM that stopped her in her tracks.

"You've been trying so hard to figure me out, Belly. Maybe it's time I gave you a clue. Meet me at the pier at sunset."

Belly showed the message to Taylor, her heart pounding. "Do I go?"

"Obviously," Taylor said. "But I'm coming with you. I don't trust this."

At sunset, Belly stood at the pier, her arms crossed, scanning the area for any sign of the mysterious account owner. Taylor was hiding behind a nearby lamppost, ready to spring into action if needed.

After a few minutes, someone stepped out of the shadows.

"Jeremiah?" Belly said, her jaw dropping.

Jeremiah grinned sheepishly, holding up his phone. "Surprise?"

"You're BeachBitchWatch?" Belly shouted.

"I thought it'd be funny!" Jeremiah said defensively. "And it kind of spiraled."

"Kind of spiraled?" Belly repeated, glaring at him. "You turned me into a meme!"

"But, like, a positive meme," Jeremiah said, shrugging. "Everyone loves you now."

Belly stared at him, her frustration warring with reluctant amusement. "You're unbelievable."

Jeremiah grinned. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Oh, I'm mad," Belly said. "But I'll deal with you later."

As she turned to leave, she couldn't help but smile. Maybe being the "Best Beach Bitch" wasn't so bad after all.