Flash Fiction: ‘All That Summer Left’ by Ayla Ali: “this debut novel will hook you and keep you guessing until the bitter end.”

Born from a determination to write a book with an ending no one could predict, Northants’ author Ayla Ali’s debut novel is a surprisingly strong first outing. Centred on a group of friends whose summer unravels when they discover a killer in their midst, this clever thriller keeps you turning pages until the bitter end— and genuinely delivers on its promise of an ending you won’t see coming.

All That Summer Left

Chapter 1

Emma

The last bell of the year rang out across the school like a starting pistol, sharp and piercing, slicing through the heavy air. The familiar clang of metal on metal echoed down the corridors, mixing with the distant hum of voices that quickly swelled into a roar. The scent of fresh-cut grass drifted through the open windows, mingling with the warm hint of early summer sunshine, softening the sharp edges of the school’s concrete and brick. There was also that unmistakable, slightly musty smell of lockers left unopened for days, an odd combination of sweat, old books, and faint traces of forgotten lunches. It all seemed to hold the memories of seven years, compressed into one last breath.

The noise erupted like a wave. Shouts of jubilation, laughter bubbling and spilling over, feet pounding the floor in wild rhythms, and the slam of lockers closing one after another created a chaotic symphony. Hands were thrown into the air, some waving wildly in excitement, others grasping balloons that bounced in the sudden surge of movement. A few balloons slipped free, drifting lazily upwards as if reluctant to leave. A stray piece of confetti, small and shimmering, floated down like a tiny snowflake caught in the turmoil. Students jostled each other, shoulders bumping, as they surged forward, carried on a current of relief and exhilaration that had been building all year.

I stood just outside the main doors, on the front steps, where the rush was a little less wild but still electrifying. Lily was at my side, silent, her hands folded tightly in front of her, her eyes watching the tide of students spilling out of the sixth-form building like a hive breaking apart. The energy around us was a storm, unstoppable and roaring but Lily seemed untouched by it, a quiet island in a sea of noise. This was the moment we had waited for and dreaded in equal measure. The end of our  ‘A’ levels, the end of school, the end of everything we had known and built together over seven years.

I thought about the future waiting just beyond the horizon, Manchester University in the autumn, a fresh start, a new chapter. I still remember the exact moment I became obsessed with human behaviour. I must have been about ten. Mum had picked me up late from a school club, and we stopped at a petrol station on the way home. There was a man at the till, tall, neatly dressed, with a warm smile but I noticed his hands were trembling as he paid, and he kept glancing at the security mirror in the corner. Something about him didn’t match. Everyone else seemed oblivious, but I couldn’t stop watching him. He left quickly, and five minutes later, a staff member came running out saying someone had taken a wallet from the counter. I remember turning to Mum and saying, “It was the man in the navy coat,” and the look she gave me, half impressed, half unsettled, has stuck with me ever since.

Since then, I’d learned to read people’s tells. Micro- expressions, body language, tone shifts. Not always perfect, of course, but I liked to believe I had a sense for what simmered underneath. The stories people didn’t say aloud. It made the world make more sense to me. Safer, somehow. Like if I could understand people, I could prepare myself for what might come next.

Psychology was the only path I could see for myself; I had always been drawn to understanding what made people tick, fascinated by the hidden motives behind their actions and the emotions they barely spoke aloud. I liked to think I was a good judge of character, someone who could read between the lines of people’s smiles and silences. Yet, standing here now amid the cacophony, I realised how little I truly understood about the emotions swirling inside me, and inside Lily.

Her stillness spoke louder than the crowd around us. While everyone else was shouting and cheering, she seemed to carry a quiet weight, something unspoken pressing down beneath her calm exterior. I wanted to reach out, to break through the bubble of noise and confusion, but words caught in my throat. The wild celebration felt so far away from the subdued storm inside her eyes.

The summer warmth wrapped around us, a stark contrast to the chill in my chest. I could almost taste the bittersweet mix of endings and beginnings hanging thick in the air. This was more than just the last day of school. It was a farewell to a chapter of our lives written in laughter, tears, friendship, and growth. And while the crowd surged forward like a wave, carrying everyone toward the future, I wondered how many of us were really ready to ride it.

Ben and Maya sprinted toward us, faces bright with excitement, arms thrown around our shoulders. Tom followed, carrying a speaker blasting music, already  planning where the first party of summer would be.

We weren’t the most popular group at St. Cedars Sixth Form at least, that’s how some people might put it. Of course, popularity is such a slippery thing; it depends entirely on who you ask. We weren’t the ones throwing wild parties every weekend or racking up every sports trophy in the school cabinet. We didn’t dominate the headline gossip or take over the hottest tables in the cafeteria. But somehow, everyone knew us. Everyone liked us. We were the kind of group who belonged everywhere but nowhere in particular, slipping seamlessly between cliques without stepping on toes or stirring drama. Invitations came without us needing to ask, whether it was to a study session, a casual movie night, or a last-minute hangout after school.

I think it all boiled down to one thing: we were easygoing and genuine. There was no pretence, no trying to prove something we weren’t. We made people feel welcome, like there was always room for one more in the conversation or the circle. Maybe that was why even the most unlikely of friends could find common ground with us.

I’d say I was the natural leader of the group, not because I bossed anyone around or demanded attention, but because I carried the kind of optimism that made people lean in

I’m the one who always believed the best moments were just waiting around the corner, like they were hiding behind the next door, ready to surprise us. I guess it’s hard to resist someone who sees the silver lining in the gloomiest of days. Always beside me is my twin, Lily, identical in looks with those same glinting green eyes and the easy smile that could soften any mood. But where I’m loud and optimistic, Lily is quiet and thoughtful. She’s happiest tucked away with a sketchpad in her lap and a pencil behind her ear, drawing the world as she sees it, one delicate line at a time. There’s something calming about her presence, like a gentle anchor that steadies me when my thoughts start to race. She has this way of warming up any room she’s in, her quiet strength and calm logic balancing out my sometimes irrational bursts of excitement.

Then there’s Tom Grant, the joker of the group. Quick with a grin and a sharp wit, Tom always knows how to light up a room. He’s got a knack for telling stories that have everyone laughing so hard they forget what they were worried about just moments before. There’s an effortless charm about him, he can get people to listen without even trying. Honestly, it’s no surprise that everyone seems to have a crush on him; I don’t blame them. Even when he’s just tossing out a cheeky comment or flashing that cheeky smile, you can tell he’s the kind of person who brightens your day without you realising it. His girlfriend, Maya Brooks, is the perfect foil to him. Sharp-witted and fiercely loyal, she’s the one who cuts

through the noise when things get too messy or complicated. Maya has this steady, fierce energy, like a quiet storm that makes people feel safe just being near her.

She’s not flashy, but she’s unforgettable.

And then there’s Ben Carter, shy, bookish, the quiet heart of the group. You’ll usually find him with a novel half- read sticking out of his backpack or tucked under his arm. Ben’s kindness is gentle but firm; he’s the one who listens when the others get too loud, who notices the things others miss. Even though he sometimes hangs back, he’s never left behind. There’s a depth to him that grows on you, like a secret melody you want to learn by heart.

This is the crew, the patchwork family I’ve known for so long that it’s hard to remember what life was like before we became this stitched-together unit. We’re bound by late-night phone calls, shared secrets whispered in the dark, endless inside jokes that no one else understands, and memories that blur together into one long, golden haze. We’ve been through it all, laughter and heartbreak, silly arguments and moments of quiet understanding and somehow, we keep coming back to each other. No matter where life takes us next, this group is home.

“You ready for the best summer ever?” Maya grinned already pulling out a crumpled list she’d made, beach trips, late-night walks, bonfires, all the clichés we swore we’d do before university tore us in different directions. laughed, letting the buzz sweep me up, but beside me, Lily stayed quiet.

I couldn’t help but notice how tired her eyes looked. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her arms hung loosely at her sides while the rest of us clutched each other, laughing at jokes we’d told a thousand times. She’s my best friend and I don’t know what I’m going to do living away from her. Today, she seemed even further away.

“You okay?” I asked quietly, nudging her with my elbow.

She nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Just… feels weird, doesn’t it?”

“Weird good,” I said. “Come on, Lily. We made it.”

She smiled again, but it wavered at the edges.

Looking around at the crowds, the people shouting promises to stay in touch, even though we all knew most of them would be broken by October. I suddenly understood. It was weird. We’d spent years dreaming about the end, about finally being free of homework and uniforms and teachers who didn’t listen. But now that it was here, it felt hollow. Like something we hadn’t realised we’d miss until it was already slipping away.

I threw an arm around her shoulders. “Hey. We’ve got all summer, right? We’ll make it unforgettable.”

Lily nodded again, her gaze drifting back to the others. A shadow of anxiety crossed her face before she pulled herself together.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Unforgettable.”

“Lil, talk to me. You’ve been weird for weeks, this is the time of our lives, what’s going on?”

Lily turned to face Emma, eyes so wide you could see the hints of hazel against her green iris.

“You know you mentioned a few days ago that you felt like something weird was going to happen, like you were being watched? I feel it too.” She says with a quiver in her voice.

Suddenly I could feel the weight of every useless textbook in my bag, this same feeling I’d been having for weeks. Lily was sensing it too, but I couldn’t let my sister think anything was wrong. I’m the tough one, I always have been, I’ll deal with this for us both. I have to protect Lily.

I turned back to Lily,

“The twin telepathy is doing its thing again! Look Lil it’s nothing, remember what we learnt about? How twins are so connected that sometimes they can’t separate the fact from fiction? Well here it is so cheer up, we’re about to have the best summer ever!”

Lily smiled, a huge wide eye smile, knowing she’d believed every word. As we gathered our bags and walked toward the car park, I felt it for the first time: A ripple in the summer heat. A tiny shiver against my skin. Someone, somewhere, was watching. I’d been feeling this for weeks. It’s probably just my end of year, new life anxiety.

When I turned, there was only the school behind us, old bricks glowing gold in the afternoon light, windows dark and empty. I shook it off. We had adventures to plan. We had memories to make.

We had no idea what was already waiting for us, hidden just beyond the edges of what we could see.

*******

Our Verdict: A well-written and engaging read. We loved the fresh, descriptive language and the strong writing technique. The story kept us hooked until the very last page, with themes of bullying and a palpable tension that made me keep coming back to finish reading it.

To buy the book visit: https://www.amazon.co.uk/All-That-Summer-Left-thrillers/dp/B0FGDHLFPD