(no subject)

Lounging on her bed on her stomach, a magazine in front of her and her feet up in the air behind her, Kate pursed her lips and flipped a page. The magazine was totally outdated and she was pretty sure that this whole furry purse thing that was on practically every single page went out of style a few decades again, but it was better than nothing.

Which, on the island, seemed to be her only option.

Blowing a sigh out from between her lips, she looked over at Marshall, who seemed totally engrossed in some weird book. "C'mon," she said, flipping over and grabbing the bright pink flip flops she'd managed to weasel out of the box a few days before. "We are going to go outside and like, do something other than lie in total silence and be bored out of our minds."

And she knew Marshall probably wasn't bored with his book, but before he could protest, she grabbed a little bag from under her pillow and held it up, wiggling it between two fingers.

"I got this from this Canadian guy who kept talking about rocks and ice and stuff," she said with a grin. "It's island grown. Probably the best pot we're ever gonna get our hands on. Way better than anything we'd get in Overland Park."