Being back was strange. 

The last time Haseul had been driving down this highway seemed like another age. It was four years before, at the end of middle school, sitting in the back of her parent's car with twenty one pilots blaring from her ipod to her earbuds, so loud her parents could hear through the tinny metal. With the windows shut and her long, ratty hair down, dressed in cheap leggings and the biggest hoodie she owned. It was that summer between eight grade and high school, the pitfalls of childhood falling far behind with adulthood looming ahead, but any real sense of freedom still far away. An in between time.

Four years later, things, thank god, were different. Haseul chopped her hair into a little bob; it didn't get ratty anymore. She was driving her own car, with all of the windows down, the smell of ocean wafting through the breeze that cooled her down. Fiona Apple blasted through her ty car speakers, her phone attached to one of those cassette based aux chords. She was still wearing the largest hoodie she owned but tucked into mom jeans that actually looked good on her. And she was still in an in between time: the summer between junior and senior year of high school, the drama of high school falling away and the big void known as college looming ahead. But she still didn't feel like real freedom was any closer than it had been four years ago. 

For the first time in an hour the GPS on her phone spoke instructions, Haseul jolting in her seat. Looking up, she saw exactly what she was looking for: exit 12 to Egret Cove. 

Now, the funniest thing about Egret Cove was that no egrets actually lived anywhere near the town. The egret's natural habitat are wetlands, streams, ponds, tidal flats, etc. Egret Cove was a beach town. But apparently before the area was colonized, there had been an abundance of these sort of small water areas where the egrets lived and played. But once the Native Americans were thrown out, the colonizers had destroyed the natural habitat, and all the egrets left the town for good. The town's name was always Egret Cove, but in the local Native people's language. The white people just translated the name and kept it, without caring about the rest of the story. As white people always did. 

Haseul knew that because that was the first thing any local would say, unprompted, when they found out you didn't live in the area. 

Haseul wasn't local enough to repeat that story, but she'd spent enough time there to know it. Her grandmother and younger cousin lived in Egret Cove, and when Haseul was younger their family used to go up every summer. They hadn't done it since, well, four years ago, but those summers were a memory that always remained in her mind. It was the kind of place that was untouched by tourism and time, still a hidden secret. 

The thing was...she didn't really want to go. 

Despite the fact that she was just a month or two away from being seventeen, Haseul's parents still had no trust in her. It was their twentieth wedding anniversary and to celebrate, they had decided to take a summer long cruise. Haseul had no problem with that, even if it meant them totally missing her birthday. What she did have a problem with was that they had banned her from staying in their house alone during the summer. Instead, they were forcing her to go to her grandmother's, just so she'd stay safe. 

And was Haseul salty about it. It wasn't like she wanted to do anything- Haseul was the first to admit she had zero social life; she wouldn't even want to invite anyone over. In fact, there was no real reason she wanted to be there by herself. She just wanted the peace and quiet. Plus as an only child, the idea of living with her ten year old cousin for a whole summer frightened her. 

But then again, Haseul didn't put up too much of a fight when her parents insisted she go. There wasn't really anything tying her down to her usual town and home anyways: she didn't have friends or a job. So, it was fine...she guessed. 

Finally, her exit came up and with a rapidly beating chest (Haseul was still not all that comfortable driving on the highway), Haseul took her exit.

Being back was strange. But despite everything, it filled Haseul's heart with a sense of peace. 

Now that she was off the highway, every memory of those many summers came flooding back to her. 

The blurriest memories in her mind, of when she was really little. Building sand castle and fake pools, getting ice cream with her grandma, falling asleep on the couch with a 1980's kids movie playing on the old, old TV. 

When she was a little bit older but still deep in childhood, when her little cousin Yeojin was born. Helping out her aunt and uncle with baby chores, teaching her fun games in the sand, falling asleep on the couch with a preschooler movie on the TV and Yeojin in her lap. 

When she was in another in between time, between elementary school and middle school, the same age Yeojin was now. Going to Egret Cove in the dead of winter, not for fun but a funeral. Watching her aunt and uncle lowered into the grave, Yeojin clinging onto her grandmother's leg, not knowing exactly what was going but sure that something was wrong. Haseul remembers seeing little Yeojin crying into her grandmother's shoulder that night, before they went home, asking why nobody would talk to her. Haseul's heart pierced. But even then, she didn't know what she would say to the toddler with dead parents. She still didn't know what she would say, if it happened now, even when she was older. 

And then there were the middle school years, when the bad came creeping up on the years of good. When she would go to the beach in her normal clothes, not daring to venture into the water, terrified of the swimsuit beneath her pants and hoodie. Playing with Yeojin in the sand and watching her laugh uproriously, then cry only minutes later. Grateful for her escape from the pain of her school, her town, but terrified of what would happen when summer was over, and she had to go back. 

And then, they'd stopped going. Life had caught up with them: her parent's work got busier, Haseul herself got busier, their family became less entwined together as they started having separate lives. Until her parents brought it up, she had almost forgotten Egret Cove existed. 

So Egret Cove held bad times, and it held good times. Haseul wasn't sure if one really overrided the other. Maybe, Egret Cove was just a place, not necessarily a good or bad one. Just a place, loaded with memories. 

The roads curved around seemingly randomly and while Haseul recognized everything, she still followed the GPS. She'd never noticed just how cute all of the houses were: yes it was all sort of suburban, but not the creepy sort of similarly suburban layout one would usually think of. The houses were still quite small and a little bit dirty, and each one was very distinct from the last, painted vibrant colors with varying decorations. Haseul could still see sand everywhere; they were only a few blocks from the beach, within walking distance, and swimsuits and towels hanging out to dry.

"Your destination will be on the right," the GPS spoke very loudly. 

"Shut up face," Haseul mumbled with a smile on her face, turning off the GPS and her music and poking her head around to look for the entrance. 

It was only moments later when she knew she found it. She didn't even have to look at the house number; she was sure: the front lawn and porch was far more unkempt than Haseul remembered, but it was still lovely: a light blue home, one level except for an attic bedroom, windows open always and a screen in front of the door. Haseul could see a new plastic basketball hoop, a new addition, probably for Yeojin's sake. 

Haseul smiled and pulled into the driveway. Her grandmother had said she should put her car there, as she didn't drive anymore (and Yeojin, of course, was still way too young). So Haseul pulled in and finally stepped outside. 

She took in a deep breath of relief. God it was nice to finally be out of the car; she'd been driving for three hours straight. Shaking out her legs she went to the trunk, pulling out her light luggage, and approached the door. She finally found an old, rusted doorbell on the side and rang, the noise almost vibrating the whole house. 

"Coming!" A child's voice screamed. Haseul chuckled immediately; that voice was far deeper than Haseul remembered, but there was no one else it could be but Yeojin. Her heart leapt; she had missed her younger cousin. 

The doors suddenly flew open and Yeojin, taller than the last time they'd seen each other but still extremely short (even compared to a 5'2 Haseul). She had long auburn hair and having the most adorable baby face, she had her arms crossed and was dressed like an e-boy. 

"You look old. Like a grown up....but not really," Yeojin said. 

Haseul burst into laughter. "Yeojin, come here." 

The two girls smiled and Haseul gave her a tight hug, squeezing the small preteen. Yeojin made grumbling noises but Haseul could see out of the corner of her eye that she was smiles. 

Haseul could faintly here the sound of slow walking on carpet when Yeojin rapidly pulled out of the hug. 

"Oh! Grandma, let me help you." 

Haseul looked up as Yeojin dashed away, giving their grandmother her arm to lean on. 

"Come give grandma a hug," the older woman spoke as Haseul got up to hug her too. Both her hands were occupied, one with a cane, the other with Yeojin's arm, but Haseul hugged her anyways. 

Haseul pulled away to look at her grandmother and cousin. She was taken by how much older they looked: yes, four years was a long time, but Haseul never thought it could mean this much change. It must have been their ages: children grow so fast, and older people age fast, as well. She could see the difference in both of their faces. The difference between age six, the last time Haseul saw Yeojin, and age ten was humongous, and while Yeojin was still clearly Yeojin, there was a sense of maturity Haseul had never seen. But the real change was in her grandmother. It made her heart hurt a little bit: she remembered a time when she would skip along after her and walk all over their small time, getting ice cream and knick knacks with ease and speed. But now she walked slowly, with a cane, and clearly needed much help. It was weird to think of family as real people who age, get ill, and could even pass away. When Haseul was young, she'd thought her grandma would live forever. 

"Do you need help with your luggage?" 

"Oh no, I've got it, don't worry," Haseul answered, forcing a smile onto her face. "It's been so long! How are you guys?" 

"I'm just happy to have you here, dear. It's been many years, and we've missed you a lot." 

"Aw...and you, Yeojin?" 

"Well...IT'S SUMMER!" Ten year old screamed, and Haseul genuinely grinned this time. There was the Yeojin she always remembered. 

"How was the drive?" Her grandmother asked. 

"Not so bad, actually. Luckily there wasn't any traffic, so it only took three hours." 

"Three hours? Ew," Yeojin spoke. 

"You must be very tired. We should let you unpack and rest before we all talk." 

Haseul had forgotten the ease and understanding with which her grandmother lived, and gave to everyone else around her. She let out a soft exhale. "That would be really, really nice." 

"Do you remember where the guest bedroom is?" 

Haseul nodded and gave them a last smile, taking her luggage to go to her room. 

There used to be two guest bedrooms, but once Haseul's grandma adopted Yeojin, she made one of the bedrooms (the attic room of course) her own. Luckily, there was still another spare room so Haseul could get her own space. 

Once Haseul walked in and shut the door, she was immediately taken by how much it was the same. She was sure her grandmother had never changed the decor. Lucky it was very calm and not the seventies tackyfest one would expect: everything was white, with subtle beach related decor, and a big window on the right side. On the left was the door to the closet and the small bathroom. In the back was the queen size bed, and in the front was the extremely old TV, sitting on a bureau. It was small, but Haseul could get used to it. 

Looking more closely, Haseul could see more things put in. Many surfaces contained photos, old and new, of them and their families. Right on the bedside table was a framed picture of Yeojin and herself, from the last time Haseul had come up to visit. 

There she was, with her ratty hair and bad clothes and acne and braces, the smile on her lips not quiet reflecting the hurt in her eyes: the memories of her school time, the fear that getting her photo taken conjured up in her. 

Haseul grimaced and set the frame photo down; she didn't want to look at it anymore. She sighed. She was tired, she could go for a nap.