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“Iced caramel and a lavender lemonade?” another barista calls out, and I hop up and scurry to the counter to get my items.
“Thank you.” I take the drinks from him and quickly pull out a couple of wadded up bills from my purse to slip into the tip jar.
It doesn’t take me long to get to the beach. I grab a towel from the trunk of my car and drape it over my arm. I take off my flip-flops to carry them and not get sand in them—though, I’ll inevitably get sand in them anyway—and juggle my drinks. Thankfully, my book is tucked safely in my purse so I don’t have to worry about carrying it too.
I could’ve gone back home and hung out on our beach outside our doors, but it’s not the same. It’s a private stretch of beach, and always quiet, and today for some reason I’m craving the chaos of a public beach. I want to be surrounded by other people.
I find a spot and set down my stuff before spreading out the towel. My poor towel has definitely seen better days. It’s a polka dot design that’s faded from the sun and too many washes. The once vibrant hues of pink and orange now look like spilled Kool-Aid.
Plopping down on it, I open my purse and pull out my book. The sand acts as a cup holder for my drinks. I grab the lavender lemonade and take a tentative sip.
“Mmm,” I hum, pleasantly surprised by the flavor. It tastes like regular lemonade with the smallest hint of the lavender. I’d worried the lavender would be overwhelming but it’s perfect and surprisingly refreshing.
A light breeze stirs my hair around my shoulders, tickling my skin. I look up out toward the water. It sparkles from the sunshine and I squint from the brightness. Surfers hang out in the water, and I watch them with envy as they catch waves, laugh, and joke with each other.
Sometimes I miss my naivety. When I had the ability to block out all the bad things in the world that can happen to you.
I guess, most of all, I miss believing nothing would ever happen to me.
But it can.
And it did.
I look down at my book, blinking the brightness from my eyes, and start reading.
Before I know it, it’s after lunch. There are plenty of stands on the beach that serve food, and since I don’t feel ready to leave, I opt to do that instead of going home.
I grab my stuff and toss my empty drink cups into a nearby trashcan.
My feet sink into the sand as I walk. I love the feel of it squishing between my toes. I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet who can say they don’t love the feel of sand underneath their feet. It’s one of those things that instantly makes you feel happy, even if it is a pain in the ass to get rid of.
The smell emanating from one of the burger stands draws me in. I stand in line, perusing the menu. I don’t normally eat out a lot, it’s a big no-no since that kind of food is loaded with things I shouldn’t have. But sometimes, you have to splurge, and I still try to make the best choices possible even when I’m making the wrong one. If that makes sense.
When it’s my turn to order I ask for a hamburger with lettuce and mayonnaise. I don’t have to wait long before they hand me a brown paper bag with my hamburger.
There are a couple of picnic tables nearby and I take a seat, laying my stuff down beside me. Pulling out my burger, I unwrap it, and my mouth immediately waters.
If only it was a cheeseburger.
I miss cheese.
Don’t get me wrong, every now and then I’ll cave and have some, but it’s something I try to avoid if I can.
I take a bite and look around. Across from me are a group of guys, about my age and younger, so they’re probably ditching school. They’re skateboarding—if you can call it that. It looks more like a lot of falling than actual skating to me.
But I can tell they’re having a good time, being silly and … normal.
One of them looks up and makes eye contact with me.
I quickly drop my gaze, heat flaming my cheeks at being caught.
People watching might be one of my favorite pastimes, but it has its downsides.
I hear the guy say something to his friends and then it isn’t long until a shadow is covering me.
“Hey,” he says. His voice has that slightly raspy sound where it hasn’t quite turned deep but isn’t squeaky either.
I force myself to look up.
