"Why the hell did I wear jeans to the beach?" I think to myself, "It's way too hot."
The promenade is hot, bright and packed. I push my way through, trying to make as little contact as possible with the mass of humanity around me as I struggle to remember precisely why I came here in the first place.
"Urgh, it's probably a good idea just to get out of the house." I mutter, then it strikes me: I was meant to be meeting Chan and the gang from school again, they must be somewhere on this hot, crowded beach.
I keep walking, looking short sightedly around for any sign of Amir's hair, or Andrew's six foot three frame, my search hindered by the fact that my sunglasses are slowly misting up with sweat. I take them off briefly, to wipe them quickly on my shirt, screwing up my eyes against the bright sun, and manage to bump into someone.
"Watch wear you're going." Snaps the girl in front of me, who's lunch is now crumpled at my feet,
'Oh gods,'I think to myself, 'bloody teenagers. I am not going to hear the end of this.' I am about to keep walking, giving a hasty apology, when I notice the expression on her face. Not one I would have expected. She sighs, looks up and mumbles,
I give her a questioning glance, "I'm Simon. I guess it's...nice to meet you?" I look down at the stuff she dropped,
"You want a hand getting that up? I did kinda make you drop it."
'Well, this is weird,' I think, but she seems like a decent enough person, and I'm in a good mood, so I'll give her a chance.
"I'm looking for a group of my friends," I say, handing her the bottle that she had dropped by my foot, "any idea where people normally meet up here?"