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“If we stay on the beach, we’re screwed.”
“But the lightning—” she yanks her hand out of my grip. “We’re not doing this!”
I turn around. “I know you’re upset and scared and whatever, but you have to trust me. We need to find shelter.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Fine,” I say. I’m getting pissed off with her now. If she wants to be full of shit and get herself in trouble, that's not my problem. She says I'm selfish. I say I'm looking out for myself. She can join me if she wants.
Or not. ?
I turn around and storm toward the trees. If she doesn’t want to figure shit out, then fine. She can stay on the beach and be turned into a crisp.
“You’re just going to leave?” she calls after me.
“If you don’t want to come, that’s on you.”
“The boat left!” she shouts. “And I’m supposed to just forget about it?”
“You know, shit happens. But if you keep focusing on the past, you’re going to lose out on whatever happens right now.”
“Very philosophical,” she says sarcastically.
“Yeah, well, that’s how shit works. You focus on the shit that happened a decade ago, you become a pain in the ass. You focus on the boat leaving and you stay on the beach, you turn into a crisp. You can’t just keep looking back, so man up and look forward for a change.”
When I turn around and stomp into the trees again, she follows me.
