tempest

Meredith held her head down to keep the wind from blowing out the flame on her lighter. She'd angled her body against a lifeguard shed; her shoulders hunched. Sand whipped around our heads and slammed into our pink skin. We had to squint to keep it from assaulting our eyes.

Most of the other vacationers had evacuated long ago. Word had it Hurricane Danny was on the way.

My mother had a migraine.

Malia and Pam were supposed to come on the trip. It had been planned for months. We picked out swimsuits and outfits and talked about bungee jumping and boys and tans. Then, they were both grounded the day before we left because they were caught sneaking out of Malia's house - to go to -- Malia's front yard.

Meredith knew she was a last resort.

The beach was empty. Meredith had somehow gotten a bottle of Vodka. We drank it with Sprite and asked our new friend Matt where he was going to college. OSU, he'd said, lying back in the sand. He left the next day.

The wind picked up and the waves got louder as they crashed.

Mom stayed in the room; curtains drawn, lights out.