Steve called over from the shore.
“Why are we here again?”
“I just like it okay?” He was talking to his girlfriend. He didn’t mean to be critical. But that was just his conversational style. Most of the time she didn’t mind. But when something was important to her or when she was in a bad mood it bore right thought her.
But today was not like that. It was important but it was also his day. She’d been plotting it for months. A day of sex on the beach. It was a day that was all about him.
It had all started with his diary. So she had a vice. Was that so bad? Everyone had something. And so what if hers was reading other people’s diaries? She walked closer to him.
“So, isn’t this romantic?”
“Well. It is getting dark, I think twilight is romantic.” She said with an effort, when he really meant, “are you freaking kidding me? There’s sand, and ticks, maybe even some moths, disease and probably used condoms from all the losers who think it’s romantic to have sex on the beach.”
If her unconscious had been able to hear that she would have mentioned that people who have sex on the beach probably don’t stop to have safe sex and that any condoms there are probably washed on shore and are most likely the direct result of the water board, which he works for, not having put the pipes out far enough. But she wasn’t so she didn’t. Instead, she said, “come and lie next to me.”
They both lay down after Steve carefully checked the sand.
“Wow,” Steve thought, “this is uncomfortable.”
“This,” though Louise, “is less comfortable than I thought.”
“Look,” said Steve, “Why are we doing this? Because if it’s your fantasy then I’ll go through with it but otherwise I’d rather not.”
“No, look, I’m sorry, I’ll do it.”
Steve started some of his incredibly predictable moves. Louise pushed him away.
“What? I thought you wanted this? I thought you loved sex on the beach?”
“Well the drink.” “Oh.” “Anyway? How did you know that?”
“You must have mentioned it.”
“No. I never did my friend would have laughed at me.”
“So? How did you know?”