❝she was the girl, who bit the horizon, who peeled the stars from the sky and put them on her tongue, the girl who was hungry for the universe, who craved magic and saw the broken boy for who he truly was- a broken boy.❞
Beca...
"So your Mum has been in China?" I was astonished when Ellis completed regaling me about her Aunt Mabel's departure and the latest update on her search for her mother. It was a week since school had finished and it's been a whole week of parties. The most current were the party at Cape May, orchestrated by Heath's hot older cousin Merina, who was well-endowed with amazing perky boobs and a mane of marigold Scandinavian blonde hair that outshone the sun. I hooked up with Merina a year ago, on a regrettable and to put it charitably, forgettable summer party on a regrettable and forgettable drunk encounter, and she squandered six months calling and texting me if we were ever going to do it again so I was attempting my very best to evade her.
Girls could be Uh-huh scary when they needed to be.
"Yeah." Ellis watched her bare feet sink into the wet sand as the waves were pulled back into the sea- a glistening blue-orange watery beauty. Ellis was in a pair of cream lace scallop shorts and a white buttoned-down blouse tucked inside the shorts. Her cherry perfume mingled with the salty sea scent and the humidity of the atmosphere. Her short hair had grown out of its militant bob, slightly wispy over her shoulders. I didn't know why I noticed. "There's nothing I can do now. She's off in another country- for reasons I don't know."
We were mum distance from Merina's beach house- where the party was in full throttle; bodies grinding on the sandy makeshift dance floor, music blaring from the speakers dragged out onto the balcony of Merina's beach house and drunken laughter vibrating the whole scene into the sunset. It was a party intended for all high-school graduates in Philly, hosted at Cape May, but somehow Heath and I caught wind of it in the student gossip grapevine so nevertheless, we decided to crash it. On a whim, I called Ellis and inquired what she was doing:
"If I was accepted to Harvard," she said, "I'd probably be packing for Boston."
"Well if you were accepted by Harvard, you probably would miss one of the best parties of all summer."
"Oh, how would I ever live?' she jabbed sardonically and laughed then sobered up playfully: "So what's the party for anyway?"
"A good an excuse to get drunk. A good excuse to crash a seniors party," I emphasised the word seniors as if the term reeked prestige, "There always loads to drink. And girls. In bikinis. Two of my favourite things in the world."
"You're a chauvinistic pig." But I could hear her grin in that indignant insult. "What's the point of those parties anyway? If they're so famous, then why haven't I heard of them?"
"They're legendary," I argued. "Epic. Didn't you ever wonder how did Heath ever got so smashed he tried to swan-dive off the beach house's balcony?"
