As I watched my ice cream melt into the sand, I was almost jealous. Jealous that I too couldn't sink into the perfect, warm, fine sand. I envied the fact that no matter how hard I tried to let myself seep into the sand's golden embrace, it would never accept me.
"Get your lazy butt in gear, Delilah!" I winced. What a nice thought, to be immersed in a golden pool of comforting warmth. Instead I had Paul. Paul and Jenny.
"If we don't make tracks on this sand, those fat tourists will take up all of the good spots!" Paul was an awkward man. He walked with a clumsy pride, and a frustrated squint was plastered onto his already red face. His clear blue eyes were his only charming quality. He had thin lips on a stubbly face with a crooked nose. His smile hooked only to one side and his ears seemed to flap and move as he talked. Paul's ears always made me imagine that they were in a constant struggle to escape the head they were attached to.
Paul's scruffy looking gray-brown hair was hanging just above his ears, and dangled limply above his thin eyebrows. Beneath that hair lived a moody, but surprisingly intelligent brain. With his brain, Paul claims to have won over Jenny.
Jenny. Jenny was one of those women who could be plain and beautiful at the same time. She had oaken brown eyes and a full, knowing smile. With a twitch of her right brow, Jenny could pry the truth out of the most practiced liars. When I did something wrong, I tended to avoid Jenny. She wore her wispy brown hair up into a simple, yet elegant bun, and was shielding her eyes from the sun as she shouted, "Please, honey, try to forget about your ice cream and move a little quicker."
I rolled my eyes as I reluctantly left my chocolate vanilla swirl cone to be consumed by the golden sand surrounding it. My flip-flops slammed against the sand as I struggled to carry three chairs and a cooler to the beach nearer to the ocean. Hot sand slipped in between my shoe and my foot, and pricked my heal before being flung up against my calf in an effort to move foreword.
My two cousins were walking several yards ahead of me, scanning the shore for a perfect site. Sarah was closer to me and I debated catching up with her. True, she wasn't' the brightest when it came to intellect, but what she did now (about hair and fashion) astounded me. Sarah had a frame, light like her mothers, and had that same plain but pretty look to her. She had dreams of owning a hair salon one day, and informed me relentlessly of this fantasy. I suppose she liked to remind everyone that, thick as she was, she had a plan for her future. I decided not to talk with her until we reached the spot (it seemed to be getting farther all the time.) I focused my attention on David.
David was, well, dependable. He was a smart boy, but with an almost smug attitude, which irked me whenever I talked to him. It was as if he thought I was below him or something. David had cold blue eyes, much like his father's, and a crooked smile. He was in that awkward teen stage and seemed to have feet disproportional to his body. His curly brown hair had frizzed in the heat and gave the impression that a balloon had been rubbed on his head.
I snorted at that thought, but I slowly began to scowl as I realized why we had been searching for sow long. David had spotted his oh-so-charming friends. A motley group of boys who referred to themselves only as "The Newsies."