St. Joseph's Island

1 - Lizzie

My most memorable summer was the summer before freshman year of college. My best friend and I moved from Fishers, Indiana to Harbour Town, South Carolina. The plan was to spend the summer in my cousin's beach house and work to save up for when we had to go back from the sunny beaches to stuffy college lecture halls. We'd been planning this since we were juniors, that one day we'd get out of the bubble of Fishers and spend all summer in the ocean. 

I remember driving across the bridge that stretched from the mainland of South Carolina, to St. Joseph's Island. All the windows were down, the music was blaring and we could already smell the saltwater as we sang along to the AJR song that was blaring from the speakers of May's Jeep. It was going to be a perfect summer. 

St. Joseph's Island was filled with tourists at this time of year, but Harbour Town was made up of mostly rich old people who own beach houses on the island, and young college students who spend their summers working at the country club or ice cream shops. It was a pretty small town on the average sized island. The main street had the ice cream shop "Scoop Shack," a tourist trap restaurant called "The Crazy Crab," a few shops and boutiques, including a bike and surf shop called "Wheels and Waves," and at the very end on the left of the street, before it seemingly dropped into the ocean, was the country club. The main clubouse sat on the edge of a plateau that held the flat golf course on one side, and sloped down to the beach on the other. 

"Apparently that's the place we want to work," May said. "From what I could tell on their website, it looks like the place is run by hot college guys." She bugged her eyes at me as we drove past. I just shook my head and laughed. "I'm serious! Great prospects in that building right there." 

I turned right, away from the country club, and onto a road that wound parallel to the beach. I drove slowly until we found the house we'd be staying in. It wasn't the biggest on the block but it was pretty damn nice. 

"I swear," I mumble as we get out of the car, "he acts like they're so fucking poor because they live in Washington D.C. but they live in a 2 million dollar place in the middle of the city and they have a beach house for god's sake." 

"Well, I am greatful your cousin is letting us stay here. Now, take the stick out of your butt and come grab your suitcase." May says, opening the trunk.  

The house had four bedrooms (each with their own private balcony and bathroom with a jacuzzi tub), a living room and a den, an exercise room, a library, a hot tub, and a private pool. They're not poor. 

We each claimed a bedroom, unpacked, and threw on suits before heading down to the beach. Unlike the beach on the other side of the country club, this one was private. May was a little dissapointed because that meant there were no hot lifeguards to stare at. In fact, the private beach was mainly older retired couples. It was just my speed. We stayed out until the sun went down and the bonfires started, then headed in to order some pizza. 

"We need to go grocery shopping tomorrow." I said as I shook the sand out of my swimsuit while May looked up pizza places that delivered. 

"Could you do that outside?" She asked. 

I chuckled as I turned to walk onto the deck. "It'll be a great summer, May!" 

I walked out onto the deck just in time to see a group of guys running from the public side of the beach. They tore through the maze of bonfires, knocking over empty lawn chairs and pushing each other around as they went. 

It'll be a great summer with these buffoons, I guess. 

"Lizzie!" May called from inside. "I found a place but they don't do online ordering. Can you call? Talking on the phone makes me nervous." 

I laugh. "I know it does, I'll be there in a minute." 

I jump up and down to get rid of the sand and then head in. 

"We'll be like an old married couple by the end of the summer, ya know." I say as I take the phone from her. 

"Aren't we already?" She asks with a laugh.