Augustus was a great driver. The red sports car he called his Sunday ride hummed steadily as they drove past the evening traffic and to the nearest beach, farther away than the culinary street where they sold all kinds of seafood.
Augustus had asked her if she wanted to eat something, but she declined. It would be better to eat later after they had their fun night on the sandy bed. They agreed upon this, and as they drove past the last line of the parking lot, the isolated beach greeted them with the sound of rolling waves.
Celeste lowered the light intensity of her phone, preparing for the conversation they would soon have. When she turned, Celeste felt the air knocked out of her chest, her heart racing in her chest, as her whole body was slammed against the hood of the low sports car. Augustus's heavy body lay heavily on her.
