Beach Week

Prolouge*

Once again Taylor, Sara, and Avery sat around the kitchen table in Sara's house. The group had been meeting for weeks to figure out exactly what they were going to do for the final summer of their beach week tradition. Everything had to be perfect. The weeklong event was going to be full of the fun activities they had enjoyed over the years. It seemed to the best way to spend their last beach week, highlighting the events that had been the climax of beach weeks in the past. Whether it was going to a club for dancing and drinks, hanging out with their beach friends, visiting the zoo as they had done as late teens, swimming in the ocean and of course relaxing in the sun. It took time to see which events the girls could agree on for the week.

Every year since eleventh grade, the three girls would spend the first week of summer together at Sara's parents' beach house in Avalon, New Jersey. While they were there, they visited with friends they had all made together during their very first beach week, and started the summer off with a bang before going separate ways for the remainder of the time off school. Each time they were there they had to follow three key rules in order to ensure that their parents would allow their tradition to continue.

Rule number one: On any occasion during the week, no strangers or boys—whether they be strange or not—are allowed in the house.

Rule number two: Stay out of trouble. If anything should happen, contact each of us immediately.

Finally, rule number three, and probably the most important of all: Do not let Sara cook.

Every summer the girls managed to find a way to break the first two rules without getting caught, but never daring to break the third in fear of their lives. That was the only rule they feared breaking because of Sara's lack of abilities in the kitchen. Sara wasn't made to be a housewife, and it had become abundantly clear from the food poising the girls got during their first beach week. The highlight from which had been watching the sunset on the dock and then promptly throwing up. This year was different though. This year would be their final celebration together, because after this week, there would be no more burying Avery in the sand when she fell asleep on the beach, or laughing at Taylor's blonde moments, or losing to Sara in swimming races. The nostalgia of those times would be the only thing to remain after this year.

It was time for them to head off into the world to pursue their careers, and start their lives, and much to their dismay the tradition would die as they moved forward. While they already had plans on starting it up again as soon as they were all settled in their new jobs and new homes in various states, they knew this could be the last time they saw each other for a while. While there would still be parties and celebrations to bring them together, they would be few and far in between compared to seeing each other most weekends and spending the start of summer together every year. There would be plans, but most would probably get broken. Though on the occasion that they were kept it would feel as if no time had passed. It would be hard to even stay in contact, because they were going all over the world.

Avery was heading to Michigan to work with Veterinarian in a family clinic before going to Vet school to become a Veterinarian herself, Taylor was going to intern at a psychiatric practice in New York, and Sara was leaving to backpack around Europe before starting graduate school in the fall as inspiration for one of her newest novel. They would be separated for the first time since the start of high school, but they weren't going to dwell on it just yet. Instead they wanted to focus on the excitement of having the ultimate beach week celebration. The last party filled week before they had to accept that it was time to grow up.

Or so they thought, because as they sat around coming up with a list of beach week activities to relive the highlights of previous years someone else had something far more sinister planned for them. He had been watching them; waiting for them to return to Avalon one last time. He had waited in the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike and if all went as he hoped, this would be the summer that their tradition died along with them. There was nothing they could do to stop it. He was ready, patiently lurking in the shadows while he finished his plan to exploiting their "week to remember". He wanted them to let their guards down. When the moment struck he would make them pay. He had suffered long enough, and now it was their turn.

And where better to have them pay their debt then where it all started, on the sandy beaches of Avalon? They wanted the tradition to end where it had all started, and he wanted them to understand that they couldn't get away with their crime. The perfect time, perfect for everyone involved.

Sara swiped her hair out of her blue eyes and smiled at her friends. "We are in for a great week," she said excitedly.

Taylor wondered how this week could possibly beat the beach week from two years ago when they all got to parasail for the first time off of Avalon's shore and see the island from the sky. It had been breath taking, not just from the beauty, but Taylor's fear of falling. She shuddered and pushed the thought away.

"All I know is I'm going to need a helmet and a barf bag," Taylor said thoughtfully.

Sara scrunched her delicate face in disgust. "Why?"

"You've set up a week that's going to consist of partying and alcohol with a few fun activities thrown in so we aren't hung over the entire time. You do the math," Taylor answered, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"No Thanks. I finished my degree and that means no more Math. I'll just pack my bathing suits and be ready for a relaxing week on the beach while you sleep off a hangover."

Maybe if Sara had done the math, she would have seen the signs adding up. She would have seen the messages, heeded the warnings, and decided to cancel this year's beach week. After all, he had given them all a warning at the end of last year's beach week. The rain had washed it away before they had a chance to see it, and now they'd learn the hard way that past mistakes could come back to bite them. If they had seen it, then maybe a few more people could have survived, but it was too late. They had made their choices, and they would die from them. On the same beaches where he had watched them let someone die without remorse. It was their fault, and they would pay for it with their own blood.