The Beach, Tuesday Evening

[hatesmoststuff]

If you asked April, the beach was a pointless, stupid place during the day but a reasonably tolerable place to drink beer at night, as long as a.) she had pregamed and b.) it wasn't freezing. Fortunately, both of those criteria were being met tonight

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[electrocynic]

Sarah had worn pants for the walk over, but she'd already shed them too. One-piece in fetching emerald green with a wornout hoodie it was, as she sat on her own towel on the sand.

"Well, there's no bloody sun out trying to barbecue you alive," she pointed out, grabbing a beer of her own. "Important fucking plus side right there."

[hatesmoststuff]

"You're so British," April noted. "But I agree. Why anyone likes hot weather is beyond me."

She swatted at a mosquito with her foot. "It's like, why fucking go outside if it's more than eighty degrees?"

[electrocynic]

"Why indeed," Sarah agreed heartily. "Guy once dragged me here during a fucking heatwave. It was horrible. Utter bollocks."

Liar. She'd liked it.

But only because he'd been there.

[hatesmoststuff]

April openly grimaced at that, turning to regard Sarah with mild disgust on her face. "Why didn't you dump him sooner?"