“..Aaaannndd, we’re set!”

Abby stands up straight, back cracking with slight unuse as she goes, to gaze at the ‘camp’ she just set up with poorly-concealed pride. Two folding chairs, a huge ass tent, the cooler, and the towel you insisted to tanning on. Call her Bob the fucking builder.

“So what’s the plan now, princess?” She questions, the sound between a groan and a laugh. Freckled, already sun-burnt hand drifting upwards to catch a few beads of sweat dripping from her blonde brow.

“We gonna hit the waves? Drink some beer? Catch a tan?”

A pause, then a throaty, chest-rumbling chuckle.

“Even though I’m already as red as a tomato…Jesus.”