After the first time I’d taken Rory down to South Beach for the failed polar plunge, that spot had quickly become a special place we shared. We never talked about it, never brought other friends down with us. It was only for us. All through high school we hiked down the beach trail once or twice a month, even in winter. Sometimes we’d sit in companionable silence, nestled back against that same huge driftwood log, our log. Often we’d bring homework, but we seldom actually cracked a textbook. More often than not we’d end up talking for hours, arguing good-naturedly about books and movies,
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what friends!!??? How many times - on Monday nights???
