8
MAY THREE YEARS EARLIER
Lexi stared wistfully out the backseat window, across the changing terrain. The rolling hills eased into a flat expanse, anticipating the coming ocean front. She could almost smell the distinct scent of salt mingled in the air.
Decrepit signs, interspersed amongst the neon bulbs, flashing from the street side, caught her eyes briefly before they locked onto the next tethered old business, vying to compete with the beach community only twenty minutes away. Palm trees had started springing up about forty-five minutes back, and Lexi’s desire to be beach-side, sprawled out with the sand between her toes, had grown exponentially since then.
“Babe, chill out. You’re doing that thing with your hair again,” Clark said, snatching her hand from her face and clutching it
