The group found an ideal spot near the shore. Andrew helped Howard and Leonard plant the umbrellas while Rachel, Monica, and Haley spread out the towels on the sand. The sun was shining high, the sea roared softly, and the warm breeze completed a perfect beach day.
As soon as they finished setting up, Andrew took off his shirt without much thought, ready to sprint toward the water. As Rachel had said earlier: using the ocean as a bath was way better than any deodorant.
"One second, Andrew," Monica stopped him, raising a hand seriously. "Sunscreen. The sun is brutal. Here," she added, handing him the bottle.
For a moment, her eyes lingered on Andrew's torso before she quickly looked away, as if she'd caught herself.
Rachel, who had also turned at the warning, glanced sideways briefly. "Yeah, you don't want to end up like grilled salmon. Sunscreen is our best friend."
Andrew stopped abruptly, he was just about to dash into the sea like a kid. "You're right, thanks," he said, taking the bottle with a slight smile.
He applied it with quick, mechanical motions: first his arms, then his neck, then his torso. Standing nearly six-foot-three and weighing around 200 pounds, Andrew had an exceptional, naturally defined physique, with about 11% body fat. Each movement made the muscles in his abs and back stand out clearly under the sun.
Neither Monica nor Rachel said anything… but the silence that followed for a few seconds was quite telling. Monica adjusted her towel with unnecessary focus, and Rachel straightened her sunglasses as if trying to play it cool.
Andrew continued applying sunscreen to his legs, down to his ankles, then turned slightly.
"Haley?" he called, holding up the bottle.
"Yeah?" Haley said, looking up after finishing her sunbathing setup.
"Can you do my back? It's hard to reach," Andrew asked.
Haley walked over without hesitation, taking the sunscreen.
"Whoa…" she said as she started spreading the lotion. "You have muscles I didn't even know existed. Is this part even real?"
"Yeah, I think you're touching the infraspinatus, it's part of the rotator cuff and plays a key role in external shoulder rotation and joint stabilization," Andrew replied.
Haley rolled her eyes. "Great. I put on sunscreen and get an anatomy lesson on top of it."
Howard, who was waiting under the umbrella with his arms crossed for his turn with the sunscreen, couldn't help but comment, "God gave him the best stats and left me with charisma level six."
Leonard, sitting next to him, looked over with an amused grin, "Charisma level six? Aren't you being a little too generous with yourself?"
Howard opened his mouth to reply, but Monica cut in before he could say anything else. "It wasn't God, or magic genes, or luck. It's work. It's discipline. Or do you think muscles grow from playing video games and sleeping all day?"
Andrew, who had heard everything from where he was, turned his head with a smile. "Monica's right. All this comes from consistency. Gym, a good training plan, eating well, keeping your body fat low… and voilà, abs show up."
Leonard scoffed, "Super easy…"
Howard shook his head vigorously, raising his hands like he was trying to ward off a dark force. "You've tried to convert us to the fitness side so many times. We won't fall to the dark side."
"Dark side? Wouldn't it be the light side?" Rachel asked, raising an eyebrow with a perfectly logical expression.
The guys, Andrew, Leonard, and Howard, looked at her at the same time, with a mix of confusion and surprise. It was like a glitch had just triggered in the system.
Rachel noticed their stares and frowned. "What? The dark side is bad, right? In the real world since there are no powers it would be eating junk, not exercising, letting yourself go. The good side should be eating healthy, taking care of yourself, working out. Logically, that should be the light side. Am I saying something crazy?"
"No, no, of course not," Leonard said quickly, adjusting his glasses, "Your logic makes sense. Do you know Star Wars?"
What if they were looking at another beautiful girl who got Star Wars? Another geek like Willa?
"Yeah, you know, the usual. They're super famous movies…" Rachel said.
She explained that yes, she'd seen them, but not because she was a hardcore fan. They were just really well-known, and she liked blockbuster-style movies: explosions, adventure, colors. She vaguely remembered the princess with buns on her head, the cute robot, the guy who turns evil, not much more.
Leonard, Howard, and Andrew exchanged glances and nodded slowly. That made more sense. She wasn't a die-hard fan like Willa. Just someone who had seen the movies because, well, "those are the movies everyone's seen at least once." General pop culture knowledge, you could say.
And from what Andrew remembered about Rachel's character from Friends in his past life, yeah, that lined up.
He also found it curious how Rachel was different. From what he remembered of Friends, Rachel had never shown the typical mocking or dismissive attitude he had seen so often in girls, either in this reality or in TV shows.
"All done, Professor Anatomy," said Haley, interrupting Andrew's thoughts as she handed the sunscreen back to Monica, who had started applying it to her arms.
Seeing the bottle in Monica's hands, Howard turned urgently to Leonard. "Did you bring sunscreen?"
Leonard slowly shook his head. "I was sure you did."
Monica glanced at them and said, "I'll lend it to you when I'm done."
"I'll lend you mine," Haley jumped in. "I knew these idiots would forget, so I brought an extra. I don't want them using yours… it's enough you already gave it to Andrew," she added, pulling a bottle out of her bag.
"Thanks, favorite cousin," Andrew said with a grin before heading toward the ocean.
Andrew was the first to get in. The water was perfect: cool but not freezing, with a gentle and steady surf that invited play. He closed his eyes for a moment as he submerged up to his shoulders, letting the sea wash away the sun's heat.
A few minutes later, the others joined him, though not with the same energy.
Howard and Leonard only waded in up to their waists, moving cautiously and with tense expressions, as if the Pacific were an ocean full of sharks and betrayal.
Rachel didn't seem too excited about getting completely wet either. She stayed near the shore, water barely reaching her thighs, lifting one foot now and then when a stronger wave rolled in.
Haley, on the other hand, had opted to stay out altogether. She was lying face-down on her towel, sunglasses on, sunbathing like it was her official sport of the day.
The only one who matched Andrew's enthusiasm, of course, was Monica.
"Come on!" Andrew shouted from where the water was already up to his chest. "This is where the fun is, the waves are better here!"
"I'm fine here," Leonard called back, raising his voice. "I don't feel the need to be swallowed by the ocean today."
Howard shook his head immediately. "I'm out. I can't swim. And those waves look like buildings coming to kill me."
Andrew quickly swam toward them and said, "I'll teach you to swim, come on."
"No thanks, I'd rather learn in a nice, controlled pool, not with three-meter waves," Howard replied.
Leonard nodded. "Not exactly an optimal learning environment."
"So boring," Andrew muttered, heading back into deeper waters. Luckily, he had Monica to keep him company, she swam with ease, her hair tied up in a high bun, moving through the water with confidence. Like him, she loved staying active.
At one point, Andrew turned to Monica and said, "We're at the beach and we're the only two who actually enjoy the sea…"
Monica couldn't help but glance back. Howard and Leonard had already gotten out of the water after less than ten minutes. Haley had never even gone in. And Rachel was still by the shore, the water barely reaching her knees. She stood there with her arms crossed, just observing the view.
'What the hell is she doing?' Monica thought.
She knew her friend liked the beach, meaning sunbathing, sand, relaxing, but not the ocean itself.
"Yes, let's call Rachel," Monica said, and they began swimming toward her.
"Hey, Rachel!" Monica called. "Come out deeper! The water doesn't bite!"
Rachel shook her head without moving. "I don't want to get my hair wet."
"If you're scared of deep water, just say it. No shame in that," Andrew said with a slight smile.
"Excuse me?" Rachel asked, offended, hands on her hips.
"I mean, if you're afraid of the bigger waves, you don't need to make up excuses," Andrew said, shrugging.
That little provocation was enough.
Rachel started wading in. "Let's go deep. Don't fall behind."
Andrew and Monica looked at each other, smiling, and followed.
"I didn't know teasing her worked that well," Monica muttered, mentally noting the tactic for future use.
The three of them moved into the area where the waves were more intense. They splashed around, laughed, ducked under foamy crests, and dove beneath the bigger ones. Rachel lasted longer than anyone expected. She wasn't an expert swimmer, but she knew how to stay afloat with dignity.
After about fifteen minutes of diving and playing, they decided to head back to shore.
They regrouped and started setting up beach games.
First up was a makeshift volleyball net, strung between two umbrellas with a piece of rope. Haley, seeing the action, got up from her towel and joined in with enthusiasm. The game was chaotic and full of laughter.
Monica surprised everyone with her agility and precision, she jumped like an athlete and had lightning reflexes.
Rachel, on the other hand, though in good shape and flexible, had butterfingers: every time the ball came her way, it was a gamble. Sometimes she nailed it, other times… the ball flew off in random directions.
Leonard and Howard… well, at least they tried.
Andrew played relaxed. It wasn't his main sport, but he was good at it. Still, he wasn't going to go full tryhard.
Then came the inevitable: 3-on-3 football. No tackling, of course, more like a summer tournament.
And that's when the dilemma arose: what to do with Andrew.
"You can't play for real. That's like putting Superman against gardeners," Leonard said, adjusting his glasses.
"Yeah, you need a handicap," added Howard, raising a finger.
"Hmm, maybe only use your non-dominant arm," suggested Haley.
"Ooh, that's good. And only one leg," added Rachel.
Andrew raised an eyebrow. "One leg?"
Rachel nodded. "Yeah. Use your weak leg to move around. It'll be a workout, and we'll actually have a chance."
"Oh, I like that one," Haley said with a smirk, arms crossed.
Andrew raised his hands. "Alright, alright. I'll play with those restrictions."
Even with all the disadvantages, Andrew still managed to throw accurate passes with his non-dominant arm and move around pretty well despite hopping on one leg.
He played lightheartedly, laughing, never abusing his skill.
Monica was really good: competitive, intense, with great game sense and speed.
Haley… well, she sucked. But she sucked with style.
Rachel, on the other hand, understood the game. She'd proven that with her commentary during the Dana Hills tournament. But watching football and playing it were two different worlds. She knew how to position herself, had good instincts, but her hands weren't reliable. Passes bounced off like she was wearing wet gloves.
Every pass Andrew threw her way had to be surgically calculated: not too high, not too strong, no spin. The margin of error was razor thin, and oddly enough, that made it fun for him.
For a quarterback like him, used to reading defenses, launching with power, and making perfect throws to skilled receivers, getting Rachel to catch the ball became a personal challenge.
It turned into a disguised training session.
After the football game, the group switched activities and started a beach paddleball match, playing in teams of two.
Andrew and Rachel had won their previous match, so now they were waiting for the winner of Monica and Howard vs. Haley and Leonard.
From the edge of the shaded area, Monica wouldn't stop complaining.
"Can you at least aim the ball toward the opposing side, Howard?" she growled, pointing her paddle at him, sand on her legs and a mix of irritation and desperation on her face.
She was very competitive and had completely forgotten about being nice or polite to her idol's friends.
Howard, totally relaxed, winked at her and raised his paddle, waving it lazily. "Relax, it's just a game, Serena Williams."
"Then play like it's not one!" Monica shouted before running off to retrieve the small ball he had accidentally launched toward the ocean.
Meanwhile, Andrew and Rachel, already tired of waiting, had walked a few meters away with a football. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky in golden hues. The sea breeze blew gently.
Andrew spun the ball in his hands and looked at her. "You told me yesterday you were going to show me your passing technique…" he said, raising an eyebrow. "But in the 3-on-3 game, I didn't see you throw once."
Rachel made a playful face, as if hiding a little secret. "Well… I lied. As you may have noticed, my hands aren't exactly football-friendly. Not for catching, not for throwing…"
"Figured as much," Andrew said, chuckling. "Still, don't sell yourself short. You're better than some girls. Like, for example… Haley."
Rachel smiled. "I'm honored to receive praise from the Dana Hills tournament MVP."
Andrew smiled back and tossed the ball to her gently. Rachel caught it, almost stumbling backward from the impact.
"Alright, pass it to me. Let's see what you've got."
"Okay…" Rachel said, focusing on the throw.
Andrew, watching her posture, already knew everything was wrong: the finger placement, the body angle, even the way her wrist moved. But he decided to wait.
Rachel threw.
The ball came out weak, wobbly, and veered left, landing in the sand several meters away from him.
He walked calmly over, picked it up, and looked at her.
Rachel shrugged. "So? Any advice to improve or should I just give up on being drafted?"
Andrew smiled as he walked back with the ball in hand. "First: don't just use your arm. The throw starts from your legs and core. If you don't rotate your body properly, you'll never get power or accuracy. Feet shoulder-width apart."
He stood next to her.
"Second: look at how you grip the ball. Fingers on the laces. Leave a little space between your palm and the ball to allow it to spin."
"Last, when you throw, your arm should move in a wide arc, bringing the ball above your head, like this," Andrew said, demonstrating in slow motion so Rachel could follow.
Rachel applied the tips, grabbed the ball, and threw it. This time, it came out much better: on target, with a bit of spin, and way more force.
She raised her hands in victory. "Did you see that!? It went in a straight line and way farther," she said with a triumphant smile.
Andrew clapped, amused. "Well done! Your draft hopes are still alive."
"Now I get Monica, and how she lost all that weight… You're a good coach and motivator," Rachel said, smiling as she looked at him.
Andrew smiled slightly, but didn't respond right away. That closeness, that effortless, easy connection, was starting to feel too comfortable. And it shouldn't.
A little alarm went off in his head, the kind that reminded him he had a girlfriend, and that moments like these, while innocent on the surface, could be dangerous.
He cleared his throat softly and took a step back. "Alright, let's keep practicing. Looks like you've got the hang of it," he said, forcing a casual tone as he walked to pick the ball up from the sand.
Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear and got ready to throw again. As they repeated the drill, her passes kept improving.
At one point, as she watched Andrew effortlessly catch another ball, Rachel spoke aloud, almost thoughtfully, "It's great that you already know what your passion is."
Andrew looked at her while tossing the ball back. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, you already know what you want to do with your life. We're about to start our second-to-last year, most of us have no clue what we'll do after high school… you already have a path. Football. And not just that, you love it. You can tell."
Andrew went quiet for a moment before replying calmly, "Yeah… I guess I'm lucky in that. But I also think everyone has their own time to figure out what they love."
Rachel nodded, "Maybe. But I don't know. Sometimes it feels like everyone around me has it all figured out. And me… nothing. It's like I'm waiting for some kind of sign to fall from the sky."
Andrew watched her. Even though she sounded calm, he could sense the hidden unease underneath. He remembered the Rachel from the show, who, over time in Friends, had found her calling in fashion, and had been really good at it.
"Well," Andrew said with a faint smile, "I saw you talking with Haley about fashion, and you seemed pretty passionate. At the café, yesterday, and again today…"
Rachel looked at him, surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, Haley's my cousin, and I swear I've never seen her argue so intensely about dress cuts, outfits, and fashion brands. And you were just as into it."
Rachel laughed quietly. "Well, I've always liked fashion… but can you actually do something with that? I never thought of it that way, it was more of a hobby."
Andrew studied her carefully. It sounded like she was speaking from a place of habit, used to not taking her own interests seriously or seeing them as valuable.
"Of course you can do something with it. There are schools, degrees, real careers behind that world. You just have to look and see if it's something you like," Andrew said with conviction.
He knew that because of Haley.
He'd helped her take her future more seriously, and one of her options was a school related to fashion, whether it be design, merchandising, visual arts, or something else.
"I'll look into it later…" Rachel said with a serious tone.
"And if it's not for you, just keep searching. You don't want to end up doing a job for the rest of your life that you don't enjoy," Andrew added.
A few minutes later, laughter erupted from the improvised paddleball court. Monica had lost her match alongside Howard, and she wasn't taking it well.
"I can't believe you missed that point! It was yours!" she shouted, chasing Howard with her paddle raised.
Howard ran away, laughing, dodging as best he could. "I'm a free man! You can't catch me, intense woman!" he yelled, darting behind an umbrella.
Meanwhile, the final match was underway between the winning pairs: Andrew and Rachel vs. Haley and Leonard.
Though Andrew was still playing under some self-imposed limitations, Rachel stayed focused and didn't want to lose. They managed to win.
Eventually, the group started packing up. Towels were shaken out, backpacks zipped, and sand everywhere.
Andrew, Haley, Leonard, and Howard said goodbye to Monica and Rachel, who headed back to the hotel.
They wished them a good flight back, knowing the girls were returning to New York and wouldn't see them again, since the boys were going to Comic-Con the next day.
Rachel and Monica walked side by side.
Monica was beaming. Her smile said it all, and her steps had a lightness that only came from a very specific kind of happiness.
"You know what?" she said suddenly, looking up at the sky. "This vacation in San Diego… was the best!"
At first, she thought she'd only see Andrew during the subscriber meetup, but no. She'd had coffee with him, watched his games in person, saw him be named MVP and win the championship. And the craziest part, an entire beach day together.
"I'd even say we're friends now, right?" Monica added, looking at Rachel for confirmation.
"Yeah, of course," Rachel nodded.
"What's wrong?" Monica asked, looking at her.
Rachel took a moment to answer. "I don't know… I guess I just feel a little sad that we won't see them again. All of them. It would've been nice if they were coming to the beach again tomorrow."
Part of it was that. The other part was the small talk she'd had with Andrew: about passion and finding your path.
Monica sighed, understanding. "Yeah… that would be great. But Andrew, Leonard, and Howard are going to Comic-Con. They already missed the first few days, they're not going to skip the last one. They've been planning it for months."
"I know," Rachel said, looking down. "I was just saying…"
And with that, the two of them returned to the hotel, ending what had been a long and eventful day that had started early that morning.
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