Free What Happens Abroad by Jen McConnel

next morning at the ass crack of dawn, and I didn’t pay much attention to anything as we walked to the train station. Joelle had already had three cups of coffee, so she was alert enough to buy the tickets and steer us onto the right train. Sarah fell asleep as soon as we sat down, and soon she was snoring gently.
    I stared out the dirty window, watching the countryside go by and occasionally snapping pictures with my camera. Even as hot as it was, the fields we passed were lush and green. When the girls weren’t looking, I caught a couple shots of them, too, lit from behind and looking like otherworldly creatures. We had to change trains at Pisa, but Joelle double-checked the tickets and figured out which train we were supposed to be on right as it let out a warning blast with its horn. When the train finally deposited us on the platform at Cinque Terre, I was getting antsy.
    â€œWhere’s the beach?”
    Joelle laughed. “That way,” she said, pointing to a blue sign that said SPIAGGIA .
    I looked at her. “You know Italian?”
    She shrugged. “No. I looked it up in the guidebook.”
    Sarah laughed. “You’re always prepared.”
    Joelle grinned. “Right now, all I’m prepared to do is lay out in the sun.” She inhaled deeply. “I swear, I can already taste the salty air.”
    We walked along a footpath, following the handful of other people who had gotten off the train with us. “So, what’s Cinque Terre mean, anyway?” I asked.
    â€œSomething like “Five Lands,” I think. There are supposed to be five little hilltop villages here, near the beach.” Joelle glanced back over her shoulder. “It might be fun to go sightseeing later.”
    I nodded. “Right now, I just want to get my toes in the sand. At least it’s warmer than Nice!”
    We crested a hill, and the crystal-blue water of the Mediterranean stretched out in front of us. Sarah grinned. “It’s perfect!” she whispered reverently.
    I totally agreed with her. Just the sight of the blue water had already made me feel better than I had in a long time.
    Joelle pointed down to the beach. “Look!”
    Huge striped beach umbrellas, like something off of a turn-of-the-century postcard, littered the beach. I took a couple of quick shots with my camera as we began to climb down toward the water, slipping and skidding on the sandy, rocky soil.
    We rented three beach chairs and one umbrella, got changed in the tiny bathhouse, and then claimed our spot beside the water. Sarah slathered sunscreen all over her pale, freckled arms, and she passed the tube to me.
    â€œThank you,” I said, putting a little on my face. I glanced at the bottle; SPF 55. I didn’t want to get burned, but I obviously wanted to get more of a tan than Sarah was looking for. I passed the bottle back to her without putting any on my body. Joelle didn’t use any of the sun screen, either.
    Sarah shook her head. “You guys are going to bake.”
    Joelle shrugged. “I’m going in the water. I’ll put the sunscreen on when I dry off.” She stood up and glanced at me. “Either of you want to come?”
    The bright blue water was inviting, so I nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”
    I stood up, tugging on the ties on my bikini bottoms, and followed Joelle toward the Mediterranean. When I first walked in, the water was almost cold, and I shrieked involuntarily.
    Joelle laughed. “It gets warmer; come on!” She waded out to her hips, and I followed her. She was right. The farther into the beautiful water I went, the warmer it felt. I wondered if that first cold moment had been my imagination. The warm water lapped around my knees, tickling my legs, and I grinned at Joelle.
    â€œGod, this is perfect!”
    She laughed and flicked some water at me. “Isn’t it?”
    I splashed her back, and it didn’t take long for us to