Imagination || L.H.

Chapter 3

We turn into the parking lot running alongside our favorite stretch of beach Los Angeles has to offer, sliding into one of the highly coveted spots just before a Toyota Corolla can. 

The car's driver honks angrily, but Michael only laughs and sticks his head out the window, screaming, "You snooze, you lose, sucker!"

The driver has her windows down and hears his words, flashing him the middle finger as she turns in search of another parking spot.

Ashton gives Michael a look of mixed horror and shock, while Calum doubles over in the passenger seat, gripping the dashboard for support. Luke shakes his head in mock disapproval, a smirk dancing across his mouth. 

I grin, leaning over Michael to pop open the door. "C'mon, boys, it's beach time!"

They let out excited woohoos, spilling out of the Jeep and congregating at the back of the vehicle. 

Michael throws his tank top into the back seat. All the boys wore their swim shorts instead of regular shorts, and I threw on my bikini underneath my clothes. Calum bundles up his shirt, helpfully taking Ash's and Luke's on his way to set it down in the car.

I strip off my tank top, sliding off my cut off jean shorts. I shake my hair out from its ponytail as I put back on my flip flops, spraying my legs and arms and stomach and face with the sunscreen bottle. 

Turning to Calum, I hand him the bottle, lifting my hair and facing away from him. "Can you get my back, Cal?"

"Sure," he says, shaking the can and covering my back in a layer of sunscreen. "Can you get mine?"

"Yeah."

I take the bottle back and offer to do the other boys' as well. Michael shrieks a little as the cold liquid comes into contact with his pale skin. I don't understand how someone who lives in LA can be so pale, but somehow he manages. Ashton and Calum are the tannest out of the four boys, but at least Luke isn't as ghostly white as Michael is. 

Luke's shoulders tense up as the sunscreen touches his skin, but remains completely silent. Ashton, like Calum, hardly feels the sensation of the oily liquid. 

Retrieving the bag stashed in the Jeep's trunk specifically for these beach trips, I stow the sunscreen inside with our towels.

Michael steals Calum's sunglasses, tilting his head to gaze up at Cal. "Will you give me a piggyback ride down to the beach? Pretty please with sprinkles on top?"

Calum scowls at him before bending his knees to allow the other boy to scramble onto his back. Ashton snatches one of the towels from the bag looped around my shoulder, flinging it around himself and tying it at his neck to form a makeshift cape. Luke grabs the umbrella Michael insists we take with us every time, flipping it around in his hand like a spear. He starts down the wooden stairs cutting a path through the sand dunes, yelling gibberish, his umbrella-javelin held by his side. 

I laugh, clomping down the stairs in my flip flops, watching my four best friends run around like lunatics.

By the time I reach the beach, Ashton has moved the towel from his neck. It lays in a bundle atop his head instead. Michael is clinging to the leg of an annoyed-looking Calum, giggling when the other boy attempts to shake him off. Luke has stabbed the sand with the umbrella, hooking one of his legs around the pole and launching into some kind of crazed stripper dance.

"I leave you alone for one minute," I say, shaking my head from side to side, grinning. "What did you do for the whole week that I wasn't here to keep you in check?"

The smiles on their faces slowly fade, eyes darting between them. 

Michael loosens his grip on Cal's leg, who remains perfectly still. Ashton unwraps the towel from around his head, draping it across the back of his neck. Luke lets go of the pole and drops his gaze to the ground.