Chapter 224

Chapter 224
Hannah

"We're glad you're here now," Zoe said, patting the towel beside her. "Come, sit. I brought sangria as promised."
I settled onto the towel, kicking off my sandals and digging my toes into the warm sand. The beach was crowded but not oppressively so. Families built sandcastles nearby, groups of friends tossed frisbees, and couples walked hand-in-hand along the shoreline.
"Who wants sangria?" Zoe asked, pulling a large container from her bag. "It's my abuela's recipe, and fair warning, it tastes like fruit juice but hits like a truck."
"Pour me a large one," I said, surprising myself. I wasn't usually one to drink during the day, but today felt different. Today was about being young and carefree, about forgetting the complications of the past few months.
Zoe poured the deep red liquid into plastic cups and passed them around. "To new friendships and creative pursuits," she toasted, raising her cup.
"And to surviving Professor Reyes," John added, clinking his cup against hers.
We all laughed and sipped. The sangria was delicious, sweet and tart with hints of citrus and cinnamon. After another sip, I felt warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the sunshine.
"So," Sarah said, stretching out on her towel, "how's everyone's collection coming along? I've hit a wall with my second piece."
"I scrapped my entire concept yesterday," John admitted. "Started over completely."
"What? Why?" Zoe looked scandalized. "Your urban nightlife idea was so good."
John shrugged. "It felt derivative. Reyes would have seen right through it."
As they discussed their projects, I found myself genuinely engaged, offering suggestions and asking questions. This was what I'd missed during my time with Leonardo: simple conversations about shared passions, without ulterior motives or power dynamics.
After finishing our sangria, we decided to brave the water. I pulled off my cover-up, suddenly self-conscious in my black bikini. It wasn't particularly revealing, but I was acutely aware of how Leonardo had shaped my perception of my body and how he'd admired and commanded it.
"Race you to the water!" John shouted, breaking into my thoughts. He took off running, kicking up sand in his wake.
Sarah and Zoe followed, laughing as they chased him. I hesitated for just a moment before joining them, running toward the waves with abandon.
The water was colder than expected, and I shrieked as it hit my legs. John was already waist-deep, beckoning us further in.
"Come on, it's not that bad once you're in!"
Zoe and Sarah waded in cautiously, wincing at the temperature. I took a deep breath and dove under an approaching wave, the shock of cold water against my skin both jarring and exhilarating.
When I surfaced, my friends were cheering as if I'd performed some impressive feat.
"That's how it's done!" John applauded.
For the next hour, we swam and played in the waves like children, unencumbered by our usual adult concerns. I floated on my back, letting the gentle swells lift and lower me, staring up at the cloudless blue sky. 
Eventually, we returned to our towels, sun-kissed and ravenous. John unpacked his impressive array of snacks while Sarah produced a portable speaker and put on a playlist of upbeat summer songs.
"I'm starving," I admitted, reaching for one of John's carefully wrapped sandwiches.
"Swimming always does that to me too," Zoe said, grabbing a handful of chips. "It's like my stomach becomes a bottomless pit."
We ate and talked, sharing stories from our lives before Hawthorne. I kept my contributions vague but truthful, focusing on my childhood love of fashion and my marketing studies.
As the afternoon wore on, I realized something startling: I hadn't thought about Leonardo in hours. I hadn't checked my phone for messages or wondered what he was doing. I'd simply been present, enjoying the moment and the company.
It felt oddly like freedom.
"Hannah?" Sarah was saying, waving her hand in front of my face. "Where'd you go?"
I blinked, focusing on her face. "Sorry, just thinking."
"About your mysterious boyfriend?" She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"I told you, I don't have a boyfriend," I said, perhaps too quickly.
"Uh-huh," she said skeptically. "That's why you get this faraway look sometimes and check your phone when you think no one's watching."
Had I been that obvious? I hadn't even realized I'd been doing it.
"It's complicated," I admitted, figuring a partial truth was better than an outright lie.
"Isn't it always?" John said, passing me a soda. "Relationships are like fashion; if they're too simple, they're probably boring."
We all laughed, and the conversation moved on to other topics: upcoming assignments, weekend plans, John's attempt to convince a cute barista to go out with him.
By late afternoon, the crowds had thinned and the air had cooled slightly. We packed up our belongings, shaking sand from towels and collecting empty containers.
"This was exactly what I needed," I told them as we trudged back up toward the pier. "Thanks for including me."
"Are you kidding? You're one of us now," Zoe said, linking her arm through mine. "Fashion squad for life."
"God, that's corny," Sarah groaned, but she was smiling.
"I embrace my corniness," Zoe declared. "In a world of cynics, be the earnest weirdo."
At the pier, we said our goodbyes, promising to meet for coffee before class on Monday. I hugged each of them, surprised by how natural it felt.
"Get home safe," John called as he headed toward his car. "Text when you're back!"
I waved and walked toward the taxi stand, my skin warm from the sun and my heart lighter than it had been in days.