Paper Towns~ A Continuation

Chapter 7. Fun Fun Fun

"What were you thinking of?"

"The beach! It'll be fun, and we need some fun in our lives, especially after the killer geese incident. I need some vitamin C, anyway," she says excitedly.

"You mean vitamin D?"

"Yeah, whatever," Margo says, ruffling my hair. "The point is, it would be good for us."

Let me be the first to say that it's an absolutely terrible idea to go to the beach at a time like this. True, there's been a lot of stress in both of our lives recently, but there could be people hanging out at the beach who would possibly recognize us from the news. I can't take that risk of being caught, and neither can Margo.

When I voice this opinion out loud, Margo pouts and says, "Silly Q, always taking the fun out of life. C'mon, live on the wild side, will ya?"

"I'm very comfortable being on the safe side, thanks," I respond. I don't say that I'm already living on the wild side by being a criminal with her.

She rolls her eyes. "Damn it, Q, let's go to the freaking beach. We can put on sunglasses or something so people won't recognize us. Besides, no one watches the news nowadays."

"I do! Everyone watches the news!"

"Q, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but people do not in fact watch the news ever."

"Whatever."

Margo shuffles in her seat. "Besides...I don't think we have a lot of time left to have fun, do we?"

I stay silent, because I know she's right. We really don't have a lot of time left.

"FINE. Fine fine fine fine fine...let's go to the freaking beach," I say.

"Ha! I knew I could guilt-trip you! Beach! Beach! Beach! Beach!" Margo chants, waving her arms in the air.

I crawl up to the front of the car to the driver's seat and Margo crawls to the passenger seat, calling shotgun. It should only take a couple hours to get to the nearest beach, if my GPS is correct. I sigh as I turn on the car's engine.

This girl really has me whipped, doesn't she?

~

After what felt like hours and hours of listening to what Margo calls 'road trip music', we finally pull into the parking lot at the beach. It takes awhile to find an actual parking spot, because that beach is crowded. And by crowded, I mean absolutely jam-packed. We manage, though, and I park my lame mini-van next to a police car.

Yes, a police car.

"Margo...if there are cops here, then I highly suggest not going to this garbage-covered sand pile."

"Quentin, we are going to that beach. We are going to have fun even if it kills us. Besides, let's just wear some sunglasses, they won't recognize us then."

I sigh and pull out two pairs of sunglasses from the compartment inbetween our two seats. I hand one to her. "Oh God, we're going to jail."

She puts on her sunglasses dramatically. "You bet we are. Besides, I've seen Orange Is The New Black, and jail doesn't seem that bad."

I put mine on, too. "Whatever. Let's just go and get this over with."

 After we get out of the car and walk to the beach, I take in my surroundings. There are people of all ages here. Kids, teens, adults...the place is filled with them. It seems that everyone in Florida decided to come to this one beach on this one day. There's a rainbow of different colored towels and umbrellas and swimsuits. I suddenly feel self-conscious of my outfit and feel out of place with my sweater, pants, and Converse sneakers. Margo is wearing similar clothing to mine, and I can tell she regrets not buying a swimsuit, too.