I want to tell you a story of a friendship. A friendship between two women that turned into four women. A friendship that dreamed of the stars. A friendship that was forged in rocket fire and sprinkled with moon dust.
The thermometer climbs quick and early. We traverse the sand, our arms filled with beach towels and buckets, shovels and suntan oil. My brother rents a surfboard at Ron Jon’s, while I wait in line for an ice cream. The sweet smell of Coppertone perfumes the air as the cars and campers inch along the hazy A1A.