Calla:
My life had officially become a disaster. Which was probably why, when McKenna called me on Sunday night and said, “I need my partner in crime,” I didn't even ask where she was going. I just asked, "How much alcohol?"
"Enough."
"That's not a measurement."
"I have a cooler full of seltzers."
"What kind?"
There was a pause. "Strawberry."
I grabbed my keys. "Where are you?"
North Calusa Beach was packed. Cars lined the edge of the road. Music drifted over the sand. The bonfire burned high enough to illuminate half the beach. McKenna spotted me before I spotted her. She came running across the sand in a tiny dress and sandals, her long blonde hair blowing around her face.
"There she is!"
I barely had time to brace myself before she threw her arms around me. "You're late."
"I
