Why I Hate the Beach
Rikki hated the beach. She hated the grainy feel of the sand between her toes. She hated the crowds pushing and yelling and making her feel trapped. She hated being out there with all those people in her bikini. Like most 20 year olds Rikki was under the misinformed assumption that she was not attractive if she even had a little weight on her body. If she were more objective she would have seen she was a tall leggy blond with a beautiful full face. Not to mention a cute little B Cup rack the bikini displayed to perfection.
So why was she here if she hated it so much? Well that was simple. He was here. Michael was the guy. The guy that every woman in town wanted to be with. He was tall, dark and yes handsome. A quarterback in high school he did everything he could to stay in shape. And oh god what a shape it was. Today he was in the middle of a beach volleyball game with his friends. Sweat rolled down his muscular chest as he spiked the ball across the net.
"Hey Michael," she said walking up.
"Oh hey, Rikki."
"You look like you're having fun."
"Oh yeah, you know it. I love trashing these jerkwads."
"Ha ha," his friend, and opponent, remarked.
"Well maybe when you're done we can hang out a little," she asked awkwardly.
"Sure, sounds great."
"But Mikey you promised to hang out with me today."
Oh god that nasally little voice.
"Veronica."
Veronica was a bimbo. There was no other thing to call her. She wore clothes two sizes too small in an effort to emphasize her artificial assets. She flung herself at everything with a pulse and a penis and her IQ rivaled that of an ant.