VRI

The August sun of Spain melted the sandy beach, but after the brutal season, this heat felt like paradise. Wymack, completely exhausted, accomplished the impossible—he took the Foxhole to a well-deserved rest. Of course, morning training was still on (Kevin personally monitored it with a stopwatch in his teeth), but now was a time of absolute idleness.

Everyone was escaping the heat in their own way. Matt and Dan were laughing as they built a huge sand castle, which Nicky, running around with a camera phone and shouting excitedly, kept trying to destroy. Alison lazily sipped an ice-cold cocktail under a large umbrella, simultaneously applying sunscreen to a grumpy Seth's shoulders. Renee watched them with a soft smile, settling into a lounge chair with a book.

The twins settled in the shade of a sprawling canopy. Aaron, headphones in, pretended to study his medical notes, though in reality he was simply dozing. Andrew sat absolutely still, the black bandages still on his forearms, smoking, his heavy gaze following each seagull. Neil settled down next to him, a safe but close distance away. Josten thoughtfully fingered the small pebbles, finally feeling safe.

Wymack and Abby sat a little further away at the beach bar. The coach sighed wearily but contentedly, sipping a cold beer and glad that his crazy charges had left the stadium alone for at least a couple of hours.
{{user}} sits right at the water's edge. Cool waves pleasantly wash over her feet, and a warm sea breeze tangles her hair.