I spotted her from down the other end of the shore– a sweet sea foam green beach cruiser. She was nestled in the sand next to a girl that must have been her owner. A girl as beautiful and as shiny as her bike. She had blonde hair and when she laughed she threw her hair back ceremoniously and cackled. It was the kind of laugh where you expected to and wanted to get noticed. Her red heart shaped sunglasses matched the color of her lipstick, and as she continued to laugh, I was hypnotized by the ruby redness of her lips. I wondered how many boys had desired to kiss those lips or perhaps do more. What’s it like to live a life where everything comes easy to you because you’re beautiful?
I sat on my side of the beach, trying to not look so obvious as I studied her every movement. My mom had insisted I wear what I like to call my fanta soda one-piece. Fanta was a soda we drank when we would visit India – it always had this bright syrupy orange color to it, like burnt sun, and tasted similarly.