Drennin taps his fingers on the hood of the car, facing the ocean. His shirtlessness causes passing girls to giggle. Their eyes lock on the red marks he proudly sports on his chest. I grin 'cause I know who gave them to him. I hop out of the car, fully changed into a trendy beach girlfriend. Mitch picked out my clothes again. The brothers stand waist deep in the ocean as Dren and I skip across the gritty sand, he walks with long confidant strides, I skip so as not to burn my toes. A rainbow Frisbee flies between the brothers as I stop at the wave line to watch them.
They move with the same fluid grace of the waves and are tanned from practices in the sun. Mitch dances through the salt water, his fingers tips grazing the multicolored disk. It floats on the bobbing green. With a flick of the wrist he sends it to Will, skimming the top of the rolling waves. Will is quick and active, he is energy personified as he dives and jumps and grasps for the Frisbee, for the goal of the competition. Mitch is the opposite, only moving when required yet he still manages to catch the goal as many times as his brother.
In a swift movement, Drennin scoops me up and carries me into the waves. He does not drop me but deposits my form in Will's waiting arms before dipping below the surface in Mitch's direction. I hold tightly to my best friend, knowing that I'll only fall if I want to, loving the warm kiss of the sun on my shoulders and the presence of his taste. With a sly grin he releases my legs and my lower half tumbles into the warm water. He laughs as I scrunch up my nose at the idea of being wet. He spins me and twirls me in the waves, dancing a ballroom hybrid under the sun rays. And everything is good.