San Carlos

             Being new to freedom and deep into the party scene, an 18 year olds' main objectives are: to rebel, and more importantly, to have fun. At least those were the intentions my friends and I had for Memorial weekend 2003. The plan was to get crazy, party, drink, and escape reality for three days straight in San Carlos, Mexico. That being, the first un-chaperoned vacation I had ever been on, I put all my concentration into making it one of my most memorable experiences, if I had only known how memorable it was going to be.
             San Carlos is a fairly developed city, not yet demolished by American tourists but still intriguingly beautiful with it's unique, original culture. It is located on the southern tip of Mexico, on the Gulf of Mexico. With it's gorgeous, warm beaches, speckled with luxurious resorts, and my boyfriend's mansion in the hills; San Carlos was the perfect vacation spot for a group of teenagers, excited and restless after a long school year.
             We set out on a Friday night so we could enjoy the long weekend. It was me, my boyfriend at the time, Jordan, my best friend Jessica, her boyfriend Barry, and Jordan's best friend Kaiwan. We packed up our belongings, stuffing the trunk with bikinis, beach towels, flip-flops, and all the gear we needed to have a blast.
             We planned on meeting several friends and friends of their friends who were staying with us and had left the day before us. When we arrived at the house there were a few familiar faces, some friends I knew from high school, Josh and Gary, Jeff, and Brittany. The rest were their friends whom I had never met before. There were three girls from Florida; Emily, Shannon, and Melissa and their boyfriends; Brett, Matt, and Jeff. They seemed alright and no one minded staying with them because the house was big enough for all of us to be comfortable.
             The house was set on a tall cliff overlooking the gulf and our very own swimming pool.