Blame It On the Beach

Chapter Twenty-seven

"I call shotgun!" I say, skipping ahead of Milo and Quinn as we walk to Noah's car, which is currently parked on the street in front of the house.

"Why are we friends with her?" I hear Quinn mumble, and I shoot her a dirty look as I open the passenger door.

"Hey Noah," I say, sitting down as Quinn and Milo climb into the backseat.

"Hey," he says, first smiling at me, then looking at the two of them in the rearview mirror. He starts the car up. "Alright, just warning you, we may get lost."

"Don't you have your GPS on?" I ask, looking at the map on his phone.

"Yeah, I do," Noah says. "We still may get lost."

"How about we try not to," Milo says from the back. "So we can get there on time."

I check my reflection in the mirror and adjust the strap on my denim overalls. "So, how's life been, Noah?" I ask him as we pull onto the highway.

He shrugs. "Pretty boring," he replies. "My brother left a few days ago so it's been just me and my parents."

I nod, looking in the rearview mirror at Quinn, who's gazing out the window, resting her cheek in her hand. "Do you even like Calvin Harris?" I ask Noah.

He looks over at me for a second, his brown eyes slightly widened, and shrugs. "I mean, I know a few songs, but I'm not, like, his biggest fan or anything," he says. "Just didn't wanna pass up what sounds like a fun concert."

I nod. "Yeah, I'm also not a huge fan, but I'm excited," I say, crossing my legs. 

There's a silence, and I turn the radio on as we continue driving down the highway towards Jones Beach. I'm scrolling through the channels when a Spanish song comes on, with a nice beat and rapid-fire lyrics. I lean back, turning the volume up and moving my head from side to side.

"I love this song!" Quinn says, starting to bounce up and down in her seat. She turns to Milo. "You know, I actually speak Spanish."

I turn to face them, rolling my eyes. "You mean you've been taking it for three years in high school?"

She shrugs. "Same difference."

We all start dancing in our seats as the chorus comes on- Noah not as much since he's driving- and we're all laughing as I try out some salsa moves.

I turn back to look at Quinn and Milo; Quinn is waving her hands around in what looks like an interpretive dance and Milo is moving his shoulders from side to side. Our eyes lock, and we're both laughing and my stomach goes whoosh a little. I turn back around and face forward, not wanting anyone to see the desire that may be showing in my eyes.

"Yay! We're here," Quinn says as Noah pulls into a parking space at the theater. "And you didn't get us lost."

He smiles at her. "Yeah, I'm pretty proud of myself."

We stop at a vendor to get food, the line being pretty long, before walking into the amphitheater to find our seats. "Can't believe I paid six bucks for, like, seven fries," Quinn mumbles, looking down at the small plate of fries.

"And four for a bottle of water," I add, holding up my bottle. "Concert food prices suck."

The air is warm as we walk up the steps of the stadium to find our seats, which are towards the middle of the entire amphitheater. "Ok, I think we're seats G, H, I, and J," I say, looking down at my printed ticket.

The row is mostly full already, and we walk past the people already sitting a bit awkwardly, trying to avoid contact. Finally, we get to our spots and sit on the backless seats.