Four girls have just run down First Avenue to get here. Well, not just run. They took the 8:45 PM A train to Penn Station and the 8:52 PM M34 crosstown bus and then ran five blocks down First Avenue.
Two are blondes, one lighter than the other. The others, brunette and tan skin.They all wear shades of blue on their shirts and red bottoms, bandanas or headbands and sunglasses.
They have just returned from a long day on Jones Beach, lot 4, the same one their parents visited summers in the 1970’s to spend their days with idols like Billy Joel, KISS, and Led Zeppelin.
The beach had been blistering and even now as the sun was setting, they could feel the heat rising from the smoldering concrete and smell an unusual thickness over the island. Their cheeks were tinted red and they could feel the heat from their sunburnt shoulders, but this was their first summer in a new city and they weren’t going to let a strong sun get in their way.
8:56 PM and the lightest blonde wants to stop for waters. The darkest brunette says no, they won’t make it in time. She gets anxiety about tardiness. The lighter brunette, more lenient, raises one eyebrow at the her to say “does it really matter?”. She gives in easily.
8:59:37 PM and they find that the elevator is out of service. The darkest brunette leading the way, they scamper up the eleven flights of stairs, panting and giggling at their misfortune. “Only us”, one comments, muffled by sounds of their heavy breathing no one is really sure who says it.
9:01:58 PM they bust through the door to the rooftop and hear the first explosion and see the red, white, and blue light up over the Manhattan skyline. People below clap and cheer and they have made it to their first 4th of July as New York adults.
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