A strange sensation thundered in June’s thighs. She felt heavy there, like
her legs would be a thousand pounds if she tried to lift them. Her whole
body might as well have been cement. She felt like she was frozen to the
ground, rooted with a marble base that she couldn’t break free of.
She thought that maybe it was best if she kept walking, or if she returned
to the cabin, but her manners c
ompelled her to walk towards the beach, her
plastic flip flops, a fancy set from her own beach line, of course, clacked
with every step. They might have been lightweight, but they would outlast
an apocalypse, provided it wasn’t too hard core, and they were fully made
out of recycled materials.
She let her clip clopping shoes take her to the small strip of sand, then
she plopped down totally ungracefully. They just sat there, a good three feet
between them, staring out at the moonlight reflected on the purple-black
surface of the water.
“The night is almost prettier than the day,” Arabella breathed. “Not that
it’s not pretty during the day, but it’s not so hot right now. I think the
sunrises out here would be amazing. The sunsets are pretty spectacular. I
can’t remember the last time I watched one before last night.”
“Yeah,” June croaked. Further down the shoreline, a real frog croaked,
long and low, and the response didn’t sound that much different.
“Where did you go to college?” Arabella asked suddenly, the question
taking June off guard.
“Uh, here. Cincinnati. I lived at home. It was cheaper.”
“I went down to LA. Wanted to do the whole California kid thing. I was
spoiled. Right from the get-go. My parents paid for the whole thing, no
questions asked. I wasn’t even that smart. Didn’t stand a chance at getting a
scholarship. I wanted to take drama, which I probably would have been
good at, but my dad talked sense into me and said I should make business
my major and do theatre or other arts as a minor. I’m glad he did, because