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VIVICA absolutely adored the feeling of getting all dolled up for the first bonfire of the summer at Cousin's Beach.
There was just something about the air at Cousin's when it was summer. Sure, she loved her home no matter what time of the year it was, but the months of June and July just had something special about them.
Besides, it was when she got to see her two best friends in the entire world. One of which was pounding his fist against her bedroom door at that very moment, shouting through the wood about how she was going to make them late to a bonfire that didn't really even have a set starting time.
Shoving her keys and lipgloss tube into the pockets of her tennis skirt, Vivica yanked the door open.
"Don't act like you're ever on time for anything." She told Jamie, pushing his forehead back with her hand as she walked past him.
"Aye—" He quipped as a reaction, quickly falling into step behind her and down the stairs.
Jamie— or JB, as he was more commonly known as— had been staying with the Crestviews every summer since he and Vivica were ten. Vivica's parents claimed it was as a favor to his mother, who'd known them both since high school and who's job rarely allowed her time at home during the summer, but they all knew it was because Jamie was as much of a child to them as Vivica was.
Besides, when it came to what her mother would only refer to as charity work, the more the merrier.
"We're gone, Mom!" Vivica called into the living room as she grabbed onto the doorknob.
"Have fun you two! Remember the curfew!" Her mother called back, sending them a wave. "Turn on the porch lights so you can see when you get back!"
"Yes ma'am!" Jamie responded, flipping the light switch for the aforementioned lights on.
Then, the two left the house and piled into Vivica's car. With the radio blasting and a horrific singalong, the pair drove down to the beach bonfire.
Once there, they climbed out and Vivica pocketed her keys once again. Jamie curled around the front of the car to her side, and they scouted out the crowd from their spot.
"You ready?" She asked him with a smirk, knowing that he was more likely than not going to do the same thing he did every year at the first bonfire: get absolutely hammered.
"Ready." He nodded. The boy lifted his fist to her and asked, "You remember the motto, don't you?"
"Party hard, don't hardly party." She recited his stupid philosophy back to him with an eye roll, bumping her fist with his.
