Blame It On the Beach

Chapter Four

^^ photo of quinn! ^^

I wake up the next morning with a dry mouth. Getting out of bed, I trudge to the bathroom, my muscles feeling heavy. I cringe, seeing my messy hair, smudged makeup, and dark circles. I brush my hair and wipe off my makeup, before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

My mom is sitting at the island in the kitchen, reading a magazine and sipping coffee. She looks up when I walk in.

"Morning Em!" she says. "You're up surprisingly early." I look at the clock, which reads 10:14. I shrug. I've never been one to sleep in, even after a night out. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I plop down on a stool next to my mom.

"Quinn's still out, right?" Mom asks. I nod.

"She'll probably wake up around 1, maybe 2," I reply. After a night of drinking, Quinn cannot be woken up until the late afternoon.

"You guys have fun last night? How was it with Milo there?"

"Yeah, it was fun," I say, taking a long sip of coffee and feeling more awake. "He's really nice."

She smiles slightly. "That's nice," she says. "Want me to make you an omelette?" She asks. I nod, and she gets up and gets the eggs out of the fridge.

"So, what were you thinking of doing today?" Mom asks, cracking two eggs into a bowl. I shrug.

"Not much. It'll probably be a very boring day, since Quinn is dead to the world," I reply.

"Well, don't forget it's the 4th today!" She says excitedly. "The Griffins are having their barbecue so we'll head over there around 5."

I nod, having forgotten that today was the 4th of July. Every year, the Griffins, a family who lives about 10 minutes from here, has a barbecue on their spacious front lawn and invites a bunch of families. It's usually pretty boring-- the only reason I don't complain about going is that Mrs. Griffin makes the best burgers.

"Where's Dad?" I ask.

She whips the eggs a little harder. "Went out for a run," she says. "When he gets back we're gonna head to the grocery store to pick up something to take to the barbecue."

"Cool," I say, drumming my fingers on the marble countertop.

"Hey, why don't you ask Milo to do something together?" Mom suggests, her tone light yet suggestive. "You could show him around town. I know his mom mentioned on the phone to me that he doesn't know anyone here and she feels a little bad that they are spending the whole summer here and he doesn't have any friends here," she rambles on, taking a deep breath when she finishes.

I frown at her. "Alright, weirdo, I'll ask him to hang out," I say, and her face lights up, making me wonder why she's so excited.

"Do you have his number?" Mom asks, pushing the omelette around in the pan.

I nod. "We exchanged numbers last night." I take my phone out and send him a text asking if he's awake. He replies soon after saying that he is, and as I eat my omelette we make plans to meet outside with our bikes.

Running back upstairs, I quickly put on black shorts, a white tank top, black Converse, and some mascara. Seeing as my hair looks messy and unkempt, I put it up in a high ponytail.

My mom follows me outside and helps me get my bike from the back shed, and comes with me as I walk it over to the driveway.

"Have fun!" she says. "Be back in time to get ready for the barbecue!"

"Alright," I reply. "If Quinn wakes up tell her I'm with Milo and that she can come meet us."

She nods and walks back into the house. I get on my bike, waiting on the road outside for Milo to come out.