Page 23 of Shift the Tide

“I do not.” Kiera grabbed her book and opened it dramatically. “I just appreciate passionate environmental rants. Like any sane person.”

“Sure,” Danica said. “And I only watchOutlanderfor the gorgeous period-appropriate costumes.”

Maggie laughed. “It’s okay, Kier. You could have worse hypothetical taste in women. Izzy’s cute.”

Kiera peeked over her book, eyes on Izzy again — the way her short blonde hair bounced when she ran for the frisbee, the way her smile was wide and easy as if carried on the sea breeze. “Yeah,” she said softly, mostly to herself. “She kind of is.”

Danica made a humming sound of interest, and Kiera knew that she’d never live this down. Her friends were like vultures, circling their next meal.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kiera saw a frisbee soaring through the air, an errant throw. One of the guys, of course, had miscalculated his angle. Kiera barely had time to register its trajectory before it smacked directly into Maggie’s face with a sickeningthwack.

There was a stunned moment of silence, interrupted only by a loud, “Fuck!” Maggie clutched her nose, doubling over, her voice muffled through her hands.

Danica moved to kneel in front of Maggie, her face going full professional-in-crisis mode. “Shit, Maggie! Let me see.”

Pete and Izzy abandoned the frisbee game, rushing over, the guys trailing behind them, looking appropriately horrified.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the guy who threw it stammered, his tan face turning pale.

Maggie pulled her hands away, revealing a trickle of blood running down toward her lips. Her nose was already swelling, an alarming shade of red.

“Does it look broken?” Maggie asked, her voice nasally, which was probably not a great sign.

Danica leaned in, examining her with a clinical focus. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

Maggie groaned, grabbing a towel Pete was handing her. “Of course it is. Because what’s a trip with you guys if I don’t sustain at least one major injury?”

Kiera exchanged a look with Izzy, who was biting her lip with an unreadable expression, unsure whether she was concerned or about to laugh, or both.

“Should we take her to the ER?” Pete asked, glancing at Danica.

Danica sighed, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Yeah, she should get it checked out. They might need to set it.”

Maggie groaned louder. “I hate this. Ihatethis trip. I hate frisbees. I hate men.”

The guilty frisbee guy took a step back, looking like he wanted to melt into the sand.

Izzy finally lost it, letting out a snort of laughter. “Okay, yeah, but to be fair, you’ve always hated men.”

Maggie pointed at her with a bloody hand. “That’s not thepoint, Izzy.”

Kiera sighed, already standing up. “Alright, let’s get you to a doctor before you start cursingallrecreational sports.”

Maggie muttered something under her breath aboutburning every frisbee in existence,but let Danica and Kiera help her to her feet, wobbling slightly.

The two men were still lingering, looking like they wanted to help but not sure if they should. The one who threw the frisbeeshuffled forward, clearing his throat. “Uh, can I — can I do anything?”

Maggie, deadpan, stared at him over her blood-streaked hands. “You canleave.”

Kiera bit back a smile as the guy mumbled another apology and stumbled in the sand to flee.

“Well,” Pete mused as they started gathering their things, “at least we’ll always have this beautiful memory of Pacific Beach.”

“Make sure you get a photo. You can put it in the scrapbook,” Maggie grumbled.

Kiera patted her shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. We will.”

Danica helped Maggie shuffle toward the house, still holding a bloodied towel to her nose and muttering about her hatred for frisbees and men. Kiera, Izzy, and Pete carried their beach bags and chairs, while Danica lectured Maggie on not tilting her head back, her doctor-mode fully activated.

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