Chapter 5: Girl Talk
The small bus from St. Catherine’s was nowhere in sight. I parked in the pay lot and was halfway to the pier when I remembered I’d forgotten to feed the meter.
The air felt cool and salty, full of the smell from the sea. I pulled my hoodie up over my head, walked back to where I’d parked, and fed the meter two hours’ worth of quarters.
This better be a fun event.
People were setting up for the farmer’s market: Some stretched canopies and secured them in what I assumed was their allotted spots. Others pulled boxes of fresh produce from trucks and folding chairs from car trunks. I was dying for a cup of coffee and decided to walk across the street to the café sandwiched between tourist shops selling beachy souvenirs and a pretty wild bar that made the TV news now and
