"Well, that's fucking it. We're short one drummer." Evan dropped his phone on top of the ice chest. "Sasha is having twins."

"Twins, shit. Double whammy." I kept my gaze locked on the scene in the water as I spoke to him. "Guess Derek won't have time for practice or tours or fucking wiping his ass, for that matter."

"Yeah, he's finally agreed to work for Sasha's dad at the lumberyard. He's going to need to make better money than we're pulling in with our spotty gigs. Fuck. We were so close. If only that record deal hadn't fallen through."

I still hadn't pulled my eyes from the water. "Let's not go down that 'if only' road again, Evan. I don't even want to think about it. Life sucks and we plod along." I lifted my can to my mouth and took a sip of soda. It had grown warm from my hand. The aluminum crumpled slightly in my firm grip.

Rebecca's squeal circled up from the shore and coasted around me like a smooth, silky ribbon. Squeals weren't generally a soothing sound, but somehow, hers always made me smile. But her boyfriend's big, grubby hands holding her hips so tightly they left fingerprints on her suntanned skin wiped the smile away fast. Rebecca gripped his arms to keep from falling off the surfboard as they balanced in the frothy water near shore.

"Josh, there's a thin line between being overprotective and being obsessive."

Evan's strange statement helped pull my attention away from the surf lesson. "What are you rambling on about?"

"I'm not rambling. I'm just letting you know that you haven't finished that soda yet, but you've already crushed the can with your tight grip." He glanced down to the shoreline where Emily and his wife, Rhonda, were playing Frisbee. Then he leaned over on his beach chair to get closer and lower his voice. "Don't get fucking mad, all right? I'm just going to say the shit that needs to be said. You do whatever you want with it."

I looked at him. "I'm already mad and you haven't even said much."

He sat back hard enough to tip the front legs of the chair off the sand. "Fine. But I think it's something you need to hear."

"Yeah? Well knowing how it'll just eat you up if you don't get to shovel out one of your important opinions, lay it on me." I had no real idea which way the conversation was headed.

"Nah, I've changed my mind. I think you'll figure it out on your own."

I nodded and returned my focus to the water.

"See, and there you go again," Evan laughed.

"Fuck, asshole, spit out what's in your craw."

"Just going to say it then. We've been fucking sitting here for twenty minutes staring out at the navy blue Pacific."

"That's it? That's your fucking chunk of wisdom?"

"No, idiot. We're sitting here. Our two women, who both look so damn fine in their bikinis, especially bouncing around in the sand like two beach bunnies chasing that damn Frisbee, are right there but I haven't seen you look their direction once. And that's because you can't keep your eyes off of Rebecca. And yes, I know she's eighteen now and she's not a little kid anymore and she grew up to be a fucking heartbreaker, but she's Emily's sister. You were always super protective of the kid like she was your sister too, but that's not what this is anymore."

I kept my face like stone, pretending as if his words were so stupid they weren't even worth reacting too. But I was absorbing every fucking syllable like a sharp needle.

Evan sat back, apparently satisfied that he'd said what needed to be said. I sure as fuck wished he'd kept his mouth shut. My only response was to reach over and turn up the music on the radio.

Emily and Rhonda had tired of their game. They hiked back to the beach chairs, both one shade darker with tan.

"Hey, Sasha's having twins," Evan called to them before they reach us.

Rhonda shook her head. "Lucky Sasha. Two babies but only one round of morning sickness, stretch marks and swollen ankles." She sat down on the towel in front of Evan's chair and leaned back against his legs. "I hope I get that lucky when I get pregnant."

"Bite your tongue, woman." Evan picked up the lotion and started rubbing it into her shoulders.

Emily grabbed a soda from the ice chest and stretched out onto her stomach on the towel next to my chair. She propped herself up on her forearms and looked up at me. "Guess that means he won't have time for the band." I hated that she said it with so much enthusiasm.

"That makes you happy, doesn't it?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "A little."

"So my bad luck is your good luck."

She pushed up to her knees. "That's not what I meant, Josh. It's just—then we can think of settling down somewhere together after I graduate. I mean if you're not traveling with the band anymore, that'll be a lot easier."

"Glad that it's all worked out for you." I got to my feet. "Think I'll take a walk."

"Jeez," Emily called after me. "Mr. Fucking Sensitive."

I didn't look back, and I made a point of not looking out at the water where Rebecca and her overly tanned surfer boyfriend were having just a little too good of a time. Then I had no choice but to turn that direction when she called to me.

"Hey, Josh, look!"

I swung my gaze her direction. She was standing in front of Gregory with her arms stretched out away from her long, willowy body. "I think I'm ready for competition. Don't you think?" The last word made the board wobble under her feet. She screamed in laughter as she went over the side. Gregory used it as another excuse to wrap his greedy hands around her as they fell into the water together.

I walked on. All in all, not my favorite beach trip.