Faye
Sam’s laughter pulls me through the crowd, her hand firm on mine as we step onto the Gulf Coast beach, the bonfire’s roar greeting us like a primal call. The party’s a wild pulse—students sprawl on blankets, beers raised, their shouts mingling with the thumping bass of a reggae remix. Volleyball players dive near the water, sand flying, cheers erupting as a ball spikes. Glow sticks twirl in neon arcs, dancers grind by the fire, sweat gleaming, the scent of grilled shrimp and lime cutting through the ocean’s briny tang.
My blue bumshort hugs my hips, the cropped black tank top cool against my skin, my sheer kimono jacket fluttering in the humid breeze. Brown sandals sink into the sand, my afro curls swept into an updo, tendrils tickling my temples, my lips shimmering with glossy shin
