Celeste and I made ourselves comfortable near the bonfire on a log, each with a hotdog in hand and a soda in the other. I insisted on another beer, but she refused to let me have one.

The soda—which was supposedly cherry, tasted stale with a sour after taste. I pulled a face, chugging it out onto the sand beside me.

The juice splattered onto the sand, sending a spray onto my one leg and onto the leg of a girl sitting nearby, practically eating her boyfriend’s face.

She pulled away, scowled at me, then reached for her boyfriend's hand, and then they got up and left.

“If I’m not...