Cassandra "Cassie" Ellis is a fresh graduate out of high school and is ready to take a break from reality. Accompanied by a close group of friends, she decides to take a vacation to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina in hopes of having a great summer. The...
"I can still hear that sound, of every wave crashin' down, like the tears we cried that day we had to leave..."
~ Dan + Shay, "19 You and Me"
{Saturday Morning - Zach's POV}
"You dumbass! Why did you leave the leftovers sitting on the counter instead of placing them in the fridge?!" I hear Grayson yelling.
I quietly chuckle to myself, pushing the covers off of my body and walking into the bathroom that was connected to my small bedroom. I washed my face and changed into some swim trunks and a loose fitting tank top, sliding my feet into my slip-on Vans.
"I'm out, see y'all later," I called as I headed out the door of the yacht, locking it behind me.
I ended up leaving Cassie and her friends at the hotel to come back to the yacht late in the night, considering I didn't want Grayson and Lily doing anything inappropriate in my yacht.
I climbed into my car, starting it up and blasting the air conditioner on high, considering the 100° weather here. I drove to the hotel Cassandra was staying at, parking my car close to the entrance. As I walked to the elevator, I hear someone call my name -- it was Cass.
"Zach! Nice to see you - what are you doing here?" She asked, quickly approaching me.
"I was coming to see if you wanted to tag along to the beach with me - just us two," I smiled.
"Of course! I have to change though," she said, motioning to her pajamas.
"That's fine, mind if I wait in your room?" I asked. She nodded, motioning for me to get into the elevator.
**********
When we got into her room, I plopped down on her soft bed while she set her room key down and walked into her closet. Moments later, she emerged wearing a slightly see-through white cover-up dress over her swimsuit, sunglasses in her hand and flip flops on her feet. She was absolutely mesmerizing, even though her hair was slightly astray.
"Excuse this mess on my head," she apologized, motioning to her hair.
"It's nice, I like it," I commented, walking over to brush my fingertips over it.
Blushing, she said, "thank you, but I still have to fix it".
She grabbed her brush, sat in front of her large mirror and began brushing her hair and pulling it into a slightly messy ponytail.
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