Today marks my first time participating in a blogfest, Rachel Bateman's Beach Scene Blogfest. Check out Rachel's entry, along with the master list, here. I could have used a scene from my WiP, but I wanted to try something new instead (and I may be slightly overprotective of my MS). Enjoy, and don't forget to tell me what you think in the comments.
The Missing Suit
Greenlee plunked her forehead against the steering wheel, hands spread on the hot dash as she idled at the red light. She looked left and right at narrow, sandy streets packed with cars and pedestrians. "We’re never going to find a spot."
"Chill," Jess said, flicking a cigarette butt out the window as the light turned and Greenlee hit the gas. "We'll find something. Try further down; it's usually empty towards 5th Street."
Greenlee shook her head. "The beach on Memorial Day weekend – what a total mistake." She adjusted the thick black strap sliding down her upper arm. "I hate this stupid bathing suit." She snapped the other strap higher up her shoulder.
Jess frowned. "I thought you just bought it? And wasn’t it sea foam green or something?"
Greenlee glanced down at the slightly oversized black Lycra one-piece. “Sea green. And I don’t typically make it a habit to dress like an old lady. This is Aunt Sarah’s suit for when she comes to the house to swim.”
Jess raised her eyebrows. “So where’s your new suit?”
Greenlee shrugged. “Couldn’t find it. Could’ve sworn I put it in my top drawer last week. Of course, Mom and Bianca swore they hadn’t seen it.” She stopped short with a screech of her tires. A tourist, easily identifiable by her cheesy tropical sundress, popped the trunk of a parked car. Greenlee turned her blinker on.
Prime beach-side parking. Maybe the day wasn’t a wash after all.
A car behind them beeped. Greenlee waved her arm out the window. “Go around, go around!” The tropical tourist pulled a stroller from the trunk, closed it, and left. Greenlee sighed. “Right.”
She pressed the gas, watching the woman wistfully in the rearview mirror. At this point she’d be grateful for a spot that wasn’t a mile from the boardwalk.
Jess gasped. “Greens!”
Greenlee redirected her eyes to the road. A couple ambled across Atlantic Boulevard, hand-in-hand, oblivious to the car hurtling towards them. Greenlee braked hard. The seatbelt jerked tight across her chest and dug into her breast bone.
She skidded to a stop just short of the couple. The girl extended her hands in a vain attempt to protect herself. The skidding car hit her with enough force to knock her off balance. She landed on her butt.
Greenlee threw the car into park. "I hate tourists! They flock here every flippin’ summer and take up all the tables at Moody's and throw trash everywhere, and, and –"
"Jaywalk?" Jess said, lighting a cigarette to busy her shaking hands. She sat up straight, her usually lazy lids wide. "Maybe. But those are no tourists."
Greenlee did a double take. The girl wore a sequined, sea green bikini top and a pair of tight white shorts. Greenlee got out and walked around the front of the car. “Bianca!"
As an afterthought she added, "Are you okay?"
Bianca jumped up and brushed bits of asphalt from her bloody palms. “Greenlee! You nearly killed me!”
Bianca noticed Jess hanging out the passenger’s window, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Her expression hardened.
Jess’s eyes flicked from Bianca's stubborn expression to her own boyfriend’s sheepish one. “Funny seeing you here, Christopher. You’re a long way from – where was it you were supposedly going this weekend? – Myrtle Beach?"
She jerked her chin toward Bianca. "Check it out, Greens. Looks like Christopher found your bathing suit."
