"I still can't believe it," Amy said as she watched her sister leave. She and Jerry stood outside the busy entrance of the gas station. The sun had barely had time to drive everyone inside or to the beach.
"Here," Jerry said. He handed her the large, green backpack. By comparison, her school bag was a lunch sack. She giggled at the new present and transferred the contents from bag to bag.
"What about this one?" she asked holding up her old bag.
"Do you want to keep it?"
"Not especially."
"Then chuck it."
She smiled. "Gladly." She stuffed it in the trash bin next to the air hose. With her new pack slung over her shoulder, they went into the gas station. Selecting a number of snacks and little road trinkets that caught their eye, they took them to the counter. Jerry slid a crisp new bill across the counter before she could get to her wallet. She started to protest, but then she just smiled and let him pay. Neither one was short of cash. Graduation parties had left them in very comfortable financial straits. The plan was to slowly burn through half the money and then turn around, head home and burn through the other half. With any luck, it would eat up most of the two and a half months of vacation.
"I just wanted to break that bill," he said as she looked at him. He gave a short laugh and put his hand on her shoulder. "Alright. We're off." Amy nodded and grinned.
"What first?" she asked, as she looked down the street.
"First, we get out of this town." She agreed with that and both went in search of someone driving out of town. She had thought the idea of hitching was an exciting idea the night before.
Originally, it was to be five friends from school celebrating the end of childhood. No more wasted time in that prison of a high school. All at once, less than two days before their trip, three of them backed out. Two of them had to take summer school classes or they would have to go back the next year. The third had a better offer from an uncle in New York. That meant it was down to the two of them. Suddenly, two teenagers hitching seemed a little more dangerous than five did. She had told her parents that they would all stay with a friend and her family. The most reaction she received was her mother yelling to Amy's sister to drop her off so they could sleep in the next morning. For that one brief instant, she was secretly hoping that they would break character and care enough to forbid her from such a potentially dangerous journey. They didn't. She was free to go. Only she could stop it at that point. However, she didn't want to back out - not after it was all said and done. So there she was, standing in a gas station parking lot and scanning for non-psychotic looking people. She let Jerry do the talking. He had the silver tongue.
When they found a ride, Jerry did his thing and they were soon riding in the back of a very plush van that was heading for the freeway. The driver was more than happy to oblige two youngsters on an adventure and left them to themselves along the drive. She saw a cube on the dashboard with pictures of his kids. The back of the van smelled like hamburgers and pine cleaner.
"I can't believe this," she said stamping her feet in what could only be described as glee.
"Hey, we're going to do whatever we want for the summer. Anything you want to do, we do." Jerry wasn't sure when it happened, but sometime over the course of the previous evening and that morning, Amy had become much more affectionate. Without either one of them realizing it, she was suddenly holding his hand and putting her arm through his. Things no girl had ever bothered to do with him. He knew he hadn't made any overt moves to change their life-long friendship. It was a heady thing. The idea that he might have a girlfriend in Amy was more than he could have dreamed. He was the first to admit to an empty room that he smelled her hair when she wasn't looking, and that he almost lived for the feel of her skin under his fingers. Heady.
They rode along the coast for nearly an hour before the man stopped. He had been drinking from the largest cup of coffee Jerry had ever seen anyone buy. Nature was saying, howdy. They were in a little beach town, not terribly unlike their own. Nevertheless, they thought they might as well take a look. They had no schedule, and total freedom. Wasting time was almost a requisite action in a situation like that. They said their good-byes to their host and began walking into town.
What they saw was actually very different from their own town. It was a true beach town. A few buildings and about three roads made up the downtown area. Small motels and little restaurants dotted the narrow road that led to the beach. When they got to the beach itself, they saw a sun drenched landscape of people. It wasn't crowded in the least. They decided to check out the town. Jerry looked down the coastline and saw several small bungalows. He and Amy walked along the beach until they reached the scattered cottages. They were up behind the dunes. It was all still part of the beach, but separated from the public.
Jerry walked into the small cottage with the BEACH LINE COTTAGES sign in the window. The manager was more than happy to rent a cottage to two teenagers who had no deposit, no reservation, and no set time of departure. He was furthermore, delighted to give them the best of the pick, and if they needed anything, he was more than happy to do whatever he could. It seemed that the grand opening of a new, multi-million dollar resort and the new freeway bypass leading to the sparkling new summer spot had leeched virtually all of the traffic from the old town.
They stepped into the little cottage and dropped their bags on the floor. They had a small kitchen, a quaint little sitting area, bedroom, and a private bathroom. A door from the main room led outdoors to a balcony that overlooked the beach and the ocean that stretched into forever. No one could see up into the balcony but from there, Jerry and Amy could see the world. Several chairs and a massive hammock decorated the balcony. A small table sat in the corner and candles hung on the wall. Jerry shrugged and started for the main room. Amy stood transfixed at the sight and all the possibilities. Despite her infatuation with the place, it was rather run-down and if it weren't for two teenagers whose eyes were filled with the adventure of the road, the shabby hut would sit empty for a considerable time to come.
Jerry and Amy left their things in their new cottage and made their way to the beach. The sun was out in full force. Not one cloud got in its way, or offered a bit of shade. People were seated about the shore, stretched out on blankets and beach chairs. Children ran around kicking sand up and adding a small amount of chaos to the otherwise calm scene. Pretty girls in little red, blue, or patterned swimsuits walked hand in hand with awkward boys who were red and walked stiffly from too much sun.
Set back from the main beach were a few small outdoor restaurants. Shaded tables and chairs sat in the sand. Amy walked with her warm hand in his. She adjusted the skinny strap of her one-piece suit. It was a simple red suit with short, narrow shoulder straps. She wore a pair of cut-off jeans over the suit. Her long hair brushed her bare shoulders and blew across her face when the warm breeze drifted in from the water.
"This is so different," she said. He knew what she meant. Compared to their hometown, Pilot Bay was positively rustic. It looked as if much of it hadn't changed since the 50's. Wood panels covered every wall of every building. White paint flecked and chipped away to reveal several shades of light green on some of the walls. Red and pink showed under other buildings. It was a good start for their trip.
