Jamie Calder Jones (about_face) wrote in genome_project, @ 2010-04-17 00:51:00 |
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Current mood: | impatient |
Who: Jamie and Sam
What: Chillaxing on the beach
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: The beach
Rated: R (language)
Jamie didn’t like mornings. No teenager did, but when he woke up every day looking like someone else (and on one memorable occasion - though he’s not sure if he dreamed it or not - a dog), he really hated waking up.
He’d texted Sam the night before, deciding that since Sam had been holed up in detention after school - so they couldn’t have their Friday afternoon session of mocking the jocks and associated people that tended to be fodder for Sam’s sarcastic cannon - they needed to make up for their face time at the beach. But in the afternoon, so that they both had time to sleep in in the morning and not have to deal with the horrors of any time before ten am.
The only problem with that? Sand. It got everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Jamie shifted a little. He was sat on a picnic bench (because there was no way he was going to sit down on the sand), feet on the wooden bench, butt on the table and hands out behind him, supporting his weight as he tapped his booted feet and waited for his best friend to turn up.
There were a few couples in front of him, stretched out on the sand and looking out at the water, some other people playing a bastardised version of beach volleyball or something equally stupid. Jamie adjusted his sunglasses, pushing them back up his nose, and nudged the plastic carrier bag with his foot. He was just checking that the bottles were in there. He didn’t have alcohol; he wasn’t as sneaky as Sam, but he had a few bottles of coca cola in the bottle and a big ‘grab size’ packet of potato chips.