Mack and Brady walked up the beach, as the waves crashed on the shore. The sun was just beginning to set, and another day of surfing was coming to an end. Brady slipped his hand in Mack's, and she glanced at him and smiled. "What are you thinking about?" She asked, as they came to a small dock where they liked to sit and talk.
Brady brushed sand off his board shorts, before taking his usual spot on the salt-worn wooden platform. He gazed across the expanse of water. "I was just wondering what the kids from Wet Side are doing right now."
Mack sat beside him. "Oh, you know. Probably dancing and singing. Frolicking on the beach. Like always," she laughed.
"Yeah," said Brady. "They sure could dance. I wish I had half the talent we had when we were in the movie. I could be a rock star," he chuckled.
"Maybe we do?" Mack wondered out loud, suddenly inspired. She stood up. "I want to try something," she announced. She started doing some awkward footwork, flailing her arms, until she slid on a slimy patch on the dock, and fell on her bottom.
Brady laughed at the spectacle. "What was that?"
Mack frowned, picking herself up and rubbing the sore spot where she fell. "I guess I can't tap dance anymore," she sighed.
"You sound disappointed," Brady noted. "I didn't know you ever wanted to tap dance."
Mack went to the end of the dock, and sat back down. "You know, maybe I'll take some lessons?"
