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1
LINDSEY
What was I thinking, agreeing to a beach vacation? I never should have let Aimee talk me into this.
I let out a sigh as I pull at my swimsuit, the tight fabric refusing to look decent no matter how much I fuss with it. There’s no getting around it: I’ve put on weight over the last few years and the last thing I need right now is to go out in public wearing a bikini.
A knock sounds on the bathroom door, followed by my best friend’s restless voice. “Linds? You almost ready to go?”
I keep looking in the mirror as I turn to the side. Oof. That angle is even worse.
“I think I’m just going to hang out here, actually,” I call out to Aimee. “Go ahead without me.”
“What?What are you talking about? Linds, open the door.”
I crack it open an inch, peering through the gap at my best friend. “I can’t go out like this.”
“Like what?”
“My swimsuit barely fits.”
“Let me see.”
If it was anyone else standing on the other side of the door, I wouldn’t oblige. But Aimee has been my best friend since we were in pigtails, and I know she won’t judge me for the way I look. Still, I feel embarrassed as I swing open the bathroom door and show her exactly how poorly my bikini fits me.
“You lookfine,” Aimee says.
“I really don’t.”
“Trust me, I would tell you if I didn’t think you should go out in public wearing that. You’re beautiful! It’s the swimsuit’s fault for not fitting you as well as it could.”
I laugh a little. “I guess that’s one way of thinking about it.”
“Well? Can we go to the beach now?”
Aimee’s reassurance has made me feel slightly better, but I’m still hesitant. “We can go if you let me borrow one of your cover-ups.”
“Deal. Pick out whichever one you want.”
A few days ago, Aimee came over to my apartment and told me she had something serious to talk about. I panicked a little when she told me that, but it turned out that her ‘something serious’ was feeling concerned aboutme. She told me that I was working way too much, and that if I didn’t take a break, I was bound to burn out.
And then she told me she had taken it upon herself to book us a vacation in Malibu.
At first, I refused to accept her extremely generous gift. It was too much! Besides, I argued, I had work to do. I was in the middle of coding three different projects. I couldn’t just fly away from my responsibilities. But then Aimee gave me thatlookof hers, and asked about my deadlines, and I was sheepishly forced to admit that I was way ahead of schedule on all three of my projects. I could take a full week off andstillbe ahead of schedule.
Now here I am in sunny, beautiful Malibu, wearing a swimsuit that doesn’t fit.
It helps, though, when I slip on one of Aimee’s cover-ups. It helps a lot. Feeling more at ease, I step into my flip-flops, put on my sunglasses, and grab my bag. When I glance over at Aimee, she’s all set to go, too—although I’m surprised to see an insulated cooler bag hanging off her shoulder.
“What’s in that?” I ask.
Aimee grins. “In what?”
I can tell she’s not going to tell me. Laughing and rolling my eyes, I say, “Never mind. I retract my question.”
The ocean is a short walk away from our beach house rental. The moment I lay eyes on the sparkling blue water, the view takes my breath away.
“Oh my God,” I say, my flip-flops sinking into the soft, warm sand. “It’s so pretty here.”
