Cruel Summer is a wild psychological thriller set in a small Texas town during 90s. It follows two teenage girls, Jeanette and Kate. Three summers, 1993, 1994 and 1995. A kidnapping changes everything. Relationships get complicated. Viewers love it for its twisty plot and unforgettable characters. Plus, those awesome retro vibes! So, buckle up for a ride through nostalgia and suspense.

Meet the characters from Cruel Summer

Kate Wallis

Okay, Kate is peak polished chaos and honestly you feel her from ten blocks away — like, glossy smile but there’s definitely smoke under that hair. She’s the kind of person who plans parties like a general and then cries in the bathroom because someone didn’t text back, which is both hilarious and tragic. Obsessed with appearances but also secretly terrified of being ordinary, she’ll charm you and then stiffen like a spy when things get real (also she has a weird little ritual with rewinding tapes? Maybe? I think she does.). You want to hate her and you kind of do, but also she’s dazzling and exhausting and impossible to look away from.

Mallory Higgins

Mallory is brittle in the best way — raw, honest, and definitely carrying a lot she doesn’t talk about unless you pry (or make her laugh, which is the key). She tries to be small but then surprises everyone with a kind of stubborn bravery that sneaks up on you; like she’ll protect someone with the ferocity of a person twice her size. Super artistic energy sometimes (sketchbooks hidden under mattresses) and sometimes she’s annoyingly pragmatic about, like, socks — very specific about socks, I swear. She’s messy and organized at the same time, and that contradiction is kind of her whole vibe.

Martin Harris

Martin reads as steady, a little classic-cinema dad energy, but not one-note — there’s a loneliness about him that makes him oddly sympathetic even when he does the wrong thing. He’s the guy who irons his shirts, keeps receipts in envelopes, and will explain history facts at 2 a.m. if you let him, and yes, he can be smug but also quietly terrified of losing control. He wants things to be simple and fair, which is cute until it isn’t, and he’s got this awkward habit of humming when he’s thinking (really weird but kind of charming). You can picture him mowing a lawn and then dropping everything to help someone, and that mix is why he’s complicated.

Jeanette

Jeanette is glitter and glue — loud, theatrical, desperate to be adored, and also heartbreakingly lonely behind all that bravado. She’ll perform for the room and then at home she frays, and she has this mischievous, slightly unreliable streak that makes you laugh and roll your eyes in the same breath. She’s messy in a glamorous way: expensive lipstick paired with leftover pizza under her bed, which sounds fake but I swear, it’s very Jeanette. She’s chaotic but creative and you always kind of suspect she knows the score even when she’s pretending not to.

Jamie Henson

Jamie is the literal softest human and I will fight anyone who says otherwise — earnest, awkward, eternally loyal, and somehow heartbreaking without trying. He’s small-town sweet, thinks in metaphors, and has the kind of kindness that’s quiet but bone-deep; also he’s surprisingly stoic about things he probably shouldn’t be. He collects little trinkets — like a pebble from a river or a cigarette lighter that he never lights, which is adorable and sad. He’ll say the wrong thing, stumble, then mean the right thing and somehow it works, because his heart is just in the right place.

Ben Hallowell

Ben is that classic charming asshole who sometimes sneaks in a good deed and then blames his good deed on bad motives, which is infuriating yet oddly endearing. He’s smooth, funny, flirty, and if you ask him about his secrets he’ll deflect with a dumb joke and a grin, but there are real layers beneath that grin, I promise. Loves mixtapes? Maybe. Hates being pinned down? Definitely. He’s the guy who’s fun at parties and complicated at 3 a.m., and honestly that tension is part of his whole thing.

Joy Wallis

Joy reads like one of those women who is always hosting and always two steps ahead in the neighborhood group chat, but she’s also tense and maybe a little brittle — the kind of cheerfulness that’s been practiced. She fits the mold of “perfect mom” in public, coupons and casseroles and PTA, but at home she’s probably eye-rollingly human: will binge trash TV and cry into a bowl of ice cream. She organizes everything — including people’s feelings sometimes, ouch — and will tell you to take a sweater and then pretend she didn’t mean it. She’s brave in domestic ways you don’t clap for, and that’s quietly impressive.

Rod Wallis

Rod is the stoic dad archetype with dusty boots and a hidden soft spot for old records, believe it or not. He’s quiet, sometimes blunt, practical to the point of being grumpy, but if you need something fixed he’s your man — even if he mutters the whole time. He’s got this weird hobby of feeding birds but also can’t stand messes? Like, he’ll complain about crumbs but then sit for hours watching the sky. He’s solid, sometimes emotionally clumsy, but you know where you stand with him and that’s a thing these days.

Derek

Derek is kind of slippery to pin down — cool and detached on the surface but with this low-key intensity that makes you pay attention, even though you’re like, why am I paying attention. He’s decisive and a tiny bit dramatic, probably reads Nietzsche for fun and also watches reality competition shows, which is the cutest contrast. He’s the one who says a blunt thing and then does the right thing anyway, annoyingly competent and slightly self-sabotaging (or maybe that’s just me projecting). He’s mysterious but not in a vacuum — there’s a warmth if you get past the poker face, just bring snacks I think he likes jalapeño chips? Maybe.

Cindy Turner

Cindy is a mess of practicality and raw emotion, like someone who memorizes the bus schedule and cries in the cereal aisle, and you love her for it. She’s pragmatic, bangs on the brakes when needed, and somehow also has a fierce, protective streak — she will defend people she cares about with a ferocity that shocks strangers. She drinks too much coffee, talks a mile a minute, and loves greasy diner food despite pretending she’s over it (she’s not). She’s scrappy, sincere, and the kind of person you’d call at midnight and hope shows up with actual help and maybe nachos.