Other than a growth spurt and the development of a respectable layer of lean muscle, Rodney Finn still found himself retaining much of the adorkably boyish attributes of his preadolescence. But rather than maliciously mar the reflection with a stamp of his foot, the lad continued to stroll amidst the calf-deep surf; his eyes peeled like that of a seagull for whatever fauna happened to cross his path.

After all, life had so many changes and more to come. Since the murders, their little friend group was the next casualty. Kamala of course got adopted. Nick and Mikayla's family immediately moved out once Summer's arrest became national news. Then Peter and his family fled for greener pastures after the hurricane destroyed the arcade. Rounding it all out before the summer was Paul who after his parents' acrimonious divorce and heated custody battle also fell away from the social circle. Evan still stayed, but even still between juggling duties as Seaside Savas' delivery boy and surfing instructor, opportunities to hang out were few and far between.

At the moment, though, solitude was okay with him. Rodney had seen a small conch, more than a dozen crabs of various sizes and stumbled upon a pinky ring bearing the image of a ram's head; no doubt a trinket lost among the tides by some careless reveler. For him, the piece fit his ring finger like a glove.

With a contented sigh, Rodney spreads his arms and spins in place; as much as he loved working alongside his dad at the Reptile Shack, no amount of riches could put a price on the salty, crisp (and reptile-free) sea air that he huffed into his nostrils at that moment.

"Well, well. You seem to be enjoying yourself."

With his concentration broken, Rodney trips over and lands flat on his nether regions. As the silt clears and he fishes his glasses out of the water, the kid sees a small sea hare gliding away leaving behind a cloud of ink in its wake. Once back on his two feet, Rodney's line of vision finds itself occupied by a pair of curvaceous brunette women waving at his general direction; one in a skintight red halter bikini that left not a whole lot to the imagination (who introduced herself as Sarah) and the other in a nominally modest sarong with blue and yellow floral patterns (who introduced herself as Lauren). An aunt treating her niece to a nice vacation after graduating Western Washington University.

"Lauren…Sarah." Rodney said as he bashfully shook their hands. "Thank you for coming…I mean, thanks for choo…choosing to vacation here."

"Oh my. He seems like a shy one, doesn't he Aunt Lauren?"

"Not like that dashing surf instructor we just got back from. What was his name again?"

"You're the one who got his number and you're asking me?"

"Oh wait…yes, Maximum Chill."

"Yeah…" Rodney concurred with clenched teeth. "Evan does seem to have that effect on women."

"Tell me about it…" Lauren continued lustfully. "The ocean wasn't the only place to find some waves."

"Oh my Gaaawwwwddd." Sarah said with mock incredulousness as she playfully swatted at the cloth around her legs before turning to a now comically crimson Rodney. "Don't mind Aunt Lauren, vacations bring out the inner cougar in her…but then again, for a postgrad in her early 20s looking to unwind a little, you can't ask for a better chaperone…(pulling the boy close to her)…So, seeing as how she's found someone to party with, care to make it a double date tonight? They've got a rave with DJ GreyMatter at Iguana's at 9:30-"

A little light went off in the lad's brain as to how to best eject himself from the situation.

"As intriguing as your offer is, I'm afraid that my duties at the Reptile Shack are far too lengthy and onerous for me to take you up on it. You see, the boa constrictors MUST eat at seven, then the gecko cages need cleaning. Then you got the tortoise whose toenails need…

Sure enough, listing the tasks that came with being a steward to all creatures scaly more than cooled the ardor of the coquettish coed and her equally flirtatious familial figure. With their displeasure as concealed as their beachwear, they bid Rodney goodbye and debated over Pepe's or Seaside Savas' would be a better choice for lunch.

After five minutes of silence, a facetious round of applause re-shatters the stillness. Through the skintight white tank adorning his abdomen advertising the city's surfing school. The back portion bearing the words 'Instructor: M.C.'.

"Can't say I'm surprised Rodney, but a lesser man may consider you an ingrate." Said the swarthy figure slowly coming towards him and laying a towel on the sand.

"Meaning what Evan?"

"Meaning that you practically had that one girl on a dish."

"No doubt without some oh-so casual name dropping on your part…or rather on the part of 'Maximum Chill'?"

"Touche dude." Evan said with a shrug as he readjusted his shark tooth necklace. Taking a seat near his friend, Rondney scowls at the horizon like it poisoned his pet.

"C'mon man, another season of Spencer Beach is here. Don't be mad at me if-"

"I'm not mad at you…" Rodney began testily. "I just don't get you. It's like ever since puberty, you've really leaned into the whole himbo thing with the female tourists."

"Well, I mean someone's gotta fill in as the Coastal Casanova since Carlos retired to Peru."

"Fair point, but even he had an army of angry husbands ready to string him up in the town square with his intestines…still though, it speaks to something bigger."

"Which is?"

"Well…It's like you said; another season of Spencer Beach is here. Another season where we smile and nod while every boorish thrill seeker from Aberdeen to Walla Walla will be congregating here to let loose. And at the risk of going all Chastity Granville here, we're not exactly part of the exhibit when all is said and done."

"Speak for yourself bro, I happen to enjoy my status as a tall glass of water." Evan said with a chuckle. But as his friend continued to frown, the swaggering surfer started an attempt at a different approach…only to have his phone buzz.

"Ah. That's Adam." He said after checking the screen. "They got a doozy of a takeout order coming up and need extra hands."

"So who's on for Surf Academy?" Rodney asked as the two of them brace up the beach.

"Matt took over half an hour ago."

(Twenty Minutes Later)

Both sets of eyes looked over the order just to be sure they were reading it right; ten gyros (five chicken, five lamb), ten chili cheeseburgers, twenty-five sticks of souvlaki, twenty four fries (eight regular, eight disco, eight boardwalk), mac and cheese bites, and a quart and a half of Tzatziki sauce.

"Holy crap. Who the hell eats this much food?"

"Tourists." Rodney said dryly. "They're staying at cabin 12.

Sure enough, as the two gentlemen rounded the entranceway to the newly renovates Colfax Cabins, it took them little time to find their destination, all they needed to do was follow the odorous trail of marijuana until it got nauseatingly potent. Sure enough, a giant 12 ornamented the door.

"Seaside Savas. We got an order here for…some guy named 'Meat'?"

A tank of a man in a backwards baseball cap and sleeveless tee advertising a fraternity gruffly nods and takes the order as his companions continue to play video games in one of the other rooms. While the exchange was silent, he did leave a generous tip of $50 before shutting the door and bellowing 'Dudes! Dinnertime!' followed by a roar worthy of the most bellicose of barbarian hordes.

"Yep. Just another summer in paradise." Rodeny said to himself with a resigned sigh as an all too familiar figure began to make her way up the stairs in search for her accommodations.