First I make Posey promise me one thing.
“You have to stay invisible at the beach,” I say, staring him right in the eye. “Because not everyone is used to seeing an imaginary friend.”
Posey snaps his fingers and becomes invisible. Now only I can see him. Obviously.
We finish packing up everything and drag my load of stuff—ka-bonk, ka-bonk, ka-bonk—downstairs.
I help Dad pack the car, and Posey behaves like the perfect imaginary friend. He doesn’t get me in trouble once. Phew! Then we buckle up and wave to Sir Pounce, who’s sitting in the living room window. He’s pawing the glass.
As we whiz down the highway, Posey loves looking out the window. He bounces up and down when we pass the curvy slides at the water park. He presses his nose against the window when we go by Santa Land. He even waves to the floppy, air-dancing tube guy in front of the car dealership.
My dad hangs a left at the giant seahorse, and now I know we’re super close to the beach. I crack the window and breathe in the air. It smells like the sea!
Soon we pull into the parking lot. I hop out of the car and slip on my flip-flops. Then I grab my bag and let Mom and Dad walk ahead of us.
“Ready?” I ask Posey. He nods and steps onto the sand.
“YEOWCH!” he yells.
“Keep it down, dude!” I say.
But Posey takes off, doing a hot lava dance all the way to the water.
