Page 143 of To Love or to Lose
The two of them have become quite good friends since they went to homecoming together. Not that there weren’t already good friends, but they’ve more noticeably seemed to pair themselves off among the larger group.
That’s what’s so great about this friend group. There are enough different dynamics that make it so no one will ever be left without a friend.
“I’ll make waffles,” Eloise says, jumping down from the counter.
Logan is always the designated egg cooker since we’ve learned the hard way which of us should and shouldn’t be in control of the stove.
Let’s just say Winnie is always given the task of setting the table.
“I’m going to go take a walk down by the shore,” I say, finding my flip-flops near the couch where I had discarded them last night.
“I’ll go too,” Winnie says, already following me out the back door.
As we make our way down the wooden steps that lead to the beach, I watch for people who may be staying at the neighboring houses.
“I’ve always loved all of these houses,” I tell Winnie once we reach the sand.
All the houses that have access to this strip of the beach are beautiful. There’s five along the shoreline, raised on stilts in case of flooding. They all have similar styles, but each is a different color.
“Me too.” Winnie smiles. “I’ve always imagined all of us owning beach houses like these, all next door to each other. There are five houses, the perfect amount for all of us.”
I look to the future, trying to picture it. The six of us, all with our respective partners spending our summers and vacations together.
I see us five years from now, just graduating college—still coming to this singular beach house. We’d be having bonfires on the beach late at night while we gossip about the people we graduated with, how some of them are getting married, or having kids, and how absurd that all sounds.
Then, I see ten years down the line, maybe we’re all married, maybe some of us have kids. By then, all of us would own our own beach house. Our kids would play in the sand during the day, and we’d tuck them in at night while they complain about wanting to all sleep in one house together.
“I hope it stays like this forever,” is all I say.
While we walk along the beach, Winnie picks up shells occasionally, and I kick rocks with every step. Once we make ourway back toward the house, we notice Jameson and Logan are watching us from the porch, both leaning against the railing.
I nudge Winnie in the shoulder, almost making her feet go in the water. “Maybe we won’t need all five houses.” I smile, imagining a world where Winnie and Logan would share one in the same way Jameson and I would. Then, we would only need four houses.
She laughs, as if it’s an impossible idea, but her eyes flash with a look of fascination. I know she’s thought about it—she and Logan both have—but it would be similar to the eighth wonder of the world if they ever actually got together.
We make our way back up the stairs and onto the porch, seeing the kitchen island is already littered with all kinds of breakfast foods, like our normal buffet.
They must have just finished making it all.
“Are you hungry?” Jameson asks, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walk back inside.
All of us take seats at the barstools surrounding the island, passing the different plates back and forth, eating almost entirely in silence.
“These waffles are the best they’ve ever been,” Luke tells Eloise once he finishes his plate.
“I used the same batter from the same box that I always do,” Eloise deadpans in return, knowing Luke is fucking with her.
Then, her phone buzzes, making her look at her lap before she gets down from her barstool and starts walking toward the foyer, holding it up to her ear.
I throw my plate in the sink, wondering what that was about, while eating the last piece of pineapple out of the Tupperware in front of me. I push it toward Jameson once the only fruit left in the container is watermelon. He likes it, and I don’t.
“Who wants to go down to the beach?” Logan asks, throwing his and Winnie’s plates in the sink as well.
All of us are already ready, since our routine of going to the beach every day isn’t ending anytime soon. The boys are shirtless and wearing swim trunks, and Winnie, Eloise, and I are in bikini tops with shorts on over our bottoms.
“We’re ready,” Winnie says, collecting the rest of the dishes, leaving them for when we return later tonight.
“Let’s go, then,” I say, grabbing Jameson’s hand and pulling him toward the backdoor and everyone follows closely behind us.
