Sugar Beach

"You know, like, he never even responded to my last text. And now Rahim says he's dating that skank, that blonde from Casey's party last Thursday. I Can Not Be Lieve It." Adriana spits out the last line, articulating each syllable in a hard staccato rhythm, spitting the sounds as if to get the taste of them out of her mouth. Her eyes pool, she pulls her mirrored aviator sunglasses out of her gloriously long, thick, black mane of Persian hair and slides them along the bridge of her aquiline nose, the angles of her face carving harsh shadows on the top of her barely covered breasts. She's rolled up her tank top to sun her stomach, pulled down her waistband and hauled up her shorts fashioning a makeshift bikini. Her skin soaks up the sun, turning a deep mahogany brown, barely breaking a sweat. Carly nods sympathetically, mmm'ing and ahhh'ing, adding some uh huhs, and oh yeahs for good measure. They sit casually straddled, entwined like lazy cats sunbathing, as young women of a certain age do; women who are definitively straight but hyper aware of the male gaze and their power over and slavish attention to it. Carly wears a long sleeved t and baggy linen trousers, her fair skin edging into the land of red, freckles bursting out like buds in bloom, slowly crawling in lines across her cheeks and clavicle. Adriana sighs loudly and leans into Carly, draping her legs sideways, flashing her exposed hips to the Italian exchange students sitting across from them under the adjacent pink fibreglass umbrella. Everyone at this urban oasis of a man-made beach at the foot of the longest street in the world is from away and on display, slowly browning in the midday sun. Carly sips her coconut water, fiddling with the sippy straw. She can't stand the taste but it's supposed to be good for her so she suffers through. A guitar player starts to sing and play behind them, on the radio station's open stage. He's young and kind of sexy, in that I really want to be Jeff Buckley crossed with Justin Bieber kind of way. "Oh- hey, I know him! I love him!" Adriana perks up, untangling her limbs, adjusting her bra. She shakes her mane, licks her lips and elongates herself to full stature, for all to adore. Attention must be paid. On tip toes she lifts one arm and casually waves to the stage, lips parted, a smile in the corners of her mouth. Carly sighs, gathers her towel and shakes off the sand, follows after her Iranian goddess, always two steps behind.