Roll the Dice

nine. a bushel and a peck

[Dedicated to izzzyyyyy123, who leaves the best comments I've ever seen on any book, not just on my books. She never fails to bring a smile to my face whenever she reads this book, and for that, I am forever grateful and send much love.]

Cara picked up a red solo cup with the most exaggerated expression of absolute disgust, loathing, and general disappointment in the human race that I had ever seen in my life – not like she was touching a set of rotting human remains or anything.

I held in my snickers although I must have not done that so well since a choked laugh or two spilled out. She sent me a searing look that completely took all the humor out of my system. Completely. "What?" I said defensively. I picked up a broken plate right next to the cup and stuffed it into the black trash bag next to us.

"You're not funny." Cara glowered, putting the cup in the same bag. "You and Dacey got me into this mess in the first place."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, the three of us agreed to do this thing together." I sighed, looking up and scanning the entire beach, which was littered with random bits of tablecloth, plastic cups, and other shit that I didn't particularly want to know. "You were attacking the spiked punch like the world had run out of any other drinks."

Dacey, who'd been mostly silent for the majority of our trash-picking expedition, looked up from the sand, with which she'd been messing around for the past five minutes. "I was simply socializing with my peers."

I scoffed. "You were attempting to hook up with my brother."

Rolling her eyes, Cara held her hands up. "We all fucked up, and we didn't stay behind to clean up like we were supposed to. Ergo, this stupid mess that would probably mess up my record, which was not only impeccable up to this point but in fact gleaming."

Dacey stretched her arms as far as she could to snag a little piece of a transparent something, which looked suspiciously like rubber – the thin kind that males often used in certain activities. I coughed, hiding my little smile in my elbow. Perhaps I shouldn't ruin her so-far innocent perceptions. After all, she wasn't wearing gloves.

Again, Dacey was never the sharpest knife in the drawer even though she was pretty much brilliant when it came to social cues.

Cara didn't notice apparently since she only held up the trash bag so Dacey could deposit her little treasure in it. "Well, someone should have cleaned up."

"Have you seen this beach?" I gestured to the entire landscape, wincing and wrinkling my nose. "I feel like the green earth activists are gonna come after me in my sleep and murder me with photocopies of my carbon footprint." I frowned. "Think about it: death by paper cuts."

The very thought sent shivers down my spine, and Cara snickered at me loudly, shaking her head. "Lottie, have you ever thought about writing for the gossip column?"

When I turned my head to meet her, blinking my wide eyes blankly, she let out an excessively long sigh that sent a couple grains of sand flying away in the late morning breeze. "You know, for the school newspaper? It's not completely shit, but the gossip column looks like it's written by freshman girls who have way too much time on their hands."

Dacey turned her head to Cara as well, her mouth slightly agape and eyes quizzical. Cara let out an even longer sigh. "You guys never get my jokes." She put her chin on her wrist since she couldn't quite lean it on her dirty and greasy palm. "Maybe I should join newspaper. I can just imagine the headlines."

"Woah." I turned my head away from Cara to grab a cigarette butt, which I was sure didn't come from the high school students from the party. "Cara, I didn't know that you used your imagination."