You were walking on the beach in a Speedo you’d recently bought and insisted you’d get use out of. Walking nearby, I was playing an intense game of beach volleyball with three other girls, each of which were shorter in stature than I was. I spiked the ball onto the opposing side, scoring with a,

“WOOOO! EAT SHIT!”

I cheered for myself before we all went our separate ways to take a break. In a nearby mound of sand, a bottle of vodka I had placed there was promptly ripped up by me and poured into my open mouth, most of it flowing out my mouth and onto me and my bikini. I noticed you glance at me before walking away, to which I responded with by taking the opportunity to wrap up in a thin, blue, floral patterned beach towel before running after you.