I stared at the blank screen on my laptop, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Typically, my mind was filled with too many ideas, so many stories waiting to be told and characters that I wanted to meet. Right now, though, my mind was blank. Every idea I've ever thought of in the past had vanished.

    When we were kids, Belly and I would create blanket forts and sneak into the living room every Friday night to watch romantic comedies. It was those nights that sparked my love for writing romance. I loved the lingering looks and hopeful optimism they provided. I loved reading them but writing them became my escape; when things in my life felt out of control, I still had my stories, with happy endings that I could control.

    Before I can type out a single word, my phone begins ringing, "Jere?" I greet the boy. I'd heard him and Steven walking past my room on their way to grab Conrad and head to some beach bonfire.

    "Florence, hey," He sounds guilty, like the time he'd forgotten to put the lid on his dad's fancy blender and got Kool-Aid all over the kitchen, "how's it going?"

    "Fine..." I place my laptop aside, my brows furrowing together in confusion, wondering, "what's going on?"

    "We kind of need a ride...." He drags off. Jeremiah, who typically sounds chill, sounds anxious, something I'm not used to hearing, "Conrad's drunk, and he got into a fight, Belly tried to break it up, but she got hit. We walked far away enough from the cops, but it's a pretty long walk, and we've all drank... so I just figured maybe-"

    "The cops?" I question, my voice squeaking as I cut him, standing, already moving over to the door, "and what the hell is Belly doing there? Is she okay?"

    "Yeah, yeah," He reassures, in a rushed tone, not bothering to answer my first question, "so, are you coming... or?"

    I sighed. As much as I didn't want to get involved in their drama, I couldn't just leave them to walk, especially if the cops were nearby, "yeah, I'll be there. Send me your location."

    "Thank you, Flo," He lets out a breath of relief, "can you maybe not tell our moms about this? Please?"

    I sigh again. Mom would kill me if she found out I'd hid this from her, "fine."

    "You're the best, Flo." He tells me before the line goes dead. I creep down the stairs, the TV is off, but I can see Susannah's figure asleep on the couch. Mom is nowhere to be found. I nap the keys for the boy's jeep off the nearby table before quietly shutting the door behind me.

    I find them a few minutes later, all standing on the side of the road, not far from the beach. Belly is speaking with a boy I've never seen a few feet away from the boys, "Get in," I say to them, rolling down the passenger window, "we'll talk about this at home."

    Jeremiah hangs his head somewhat guiltily, helping a staggering Conrad into the passenger seat. He's clearly wasted, letting his head fall back against the seat, "I think I might get a ride with Cam," Belly says to me, nodding to the boy beside her.

    "Like hell you are," I say. If I weren't so annoyed right now, I'd cringe at how much I sound like mom, "you are not getting into a car with a guy you just met."

    "I'm Cam." The boy holds his hand out for me to shake through the window, reaching past Conrad, "Cameron."

    "Your name is Cam Cameron?" Jeremiah scoffs from the back seat.

    "No," He stutters, moving his hand once I don't shake it, "it's j-just Cam. But we actually know each other. Seventh grade, Latin convention. So, like, we're not total strangers."

    "Okay?" I furrow my brows at him, shaking my head, "Cool, but the answer is still no... Belly, get in the car, please."

    "Just listen to your sister, Belly," Conrad finally says something, his voice quiet. If I weren't so stressed about this entire ordeal, I'd be shocked Conrad's sticking up for me.

     Before Belly can agree, I look around, sighing, "where the hell is Steven?" I ask Jeremiah, turning around in my seat to look at him.

    "Shit," he mutters, shooting me a wide-eyed look as he sprints from the car. Belly and Cam both step away from the car, talking with ducked heads. I sigh, leaning my head back against the back of my chair. Mom's going to kill me. I always go to parties with the boys, mainly to keep them in line. The one time I don't, they end up like this...

    My eyes flutter open as Conrad touches my forehead, his fingers drawing small circles on my skin, "you know, you get this line between your eyebrows whenever you're stressed," he tells me, his fingers smoothing it out. He's leaning over the center console to look at me.

    He's drunk, Florence, I remind myself as he slowly draws his hand down my face, touching my cheekbone, then my jaw. His fingers are soft and warm, sending a shiver up my spine. Still, a part of me longs to lean into his warm touch, allowing him to cup my cheek with his hand, "Flo," he says my name, my nickname that he hasn't used in ages falling past his lips.

    Before he can finish whatever he's about to say, there's a knock on the window. An officer stands by my window, her hands on her hips, "have you kids been drinking?"

☀️

    "Have a good night, Officers," mom leads the police out of the house, a forced smile on her face. I stand between Belly and Steven, plucking the fabric of my sweater between my fingers anxiously as mom turns around to face us, her friendly façade falling. "How could you guys be so irresponsible?"

    "Mom," Steven sighed, "it wasn't a big deal. All right? Seriously. The cops were just looking to break up the bonfire."

    "Not a big deal?" She questions. I can tell she's holding in her anger due to Susannah sleeping on the couch not too far away.

    "Yes."

    "I would say getting picked up by the cops for underage drinking is a pretty big deal, Steven,"

    Steven scoffs, before sniffing, a chuckle escaping his lips as he asks, "were you guys smoking tonight?"

    "What?" She asks him, obviously lying. She and Susannah used to smoke weed all the time during Susannah's chemo, but sometimes they still do it, on occasion, "keep your voice down. Susannah's asleep on the couch."

    "What? I wasn't yelling." Steven defends himself, raising his voice in the process, "you were."

    "And you," She points to me, disappointed, "I can't believe you didn't tell me when Jeremiah phoned."

    "I asked her not to," Jeremiah speaks up before I can reply to my mom, "please don't be mad at Florence. She had nothing to do with this, I swear."

    "Conrad and Florence are the oldest," She reminds us, gesturing to the two of us, "they should know better." She looks at Conrad disappointed before saying, "what the hell has gotten into you?" her gaze shifts over to Belly, "and when did you leave the house without telling anybody? And what in the world are you wearing?"

    Belly wore a short pink dress that showed off her long tan legs. She hugged the grey hoodie that the boy from earlier gave her around her body, "It's Taylor's. And why am I the only one who's not allowed to go out?"

    "It's not that you're not allowed. It's that you should have told us you were going." Mom says, sighing, "how did you even get there?"

    "I walked."

    "Jesus," Mom lets out a breath, shaking her head, "you know better than to walk that far down the beach late alone at night."

    "Can you stop treating me like a kid?" Belly exclaims. I suck in a breath, hoping Susannah doesn't wake up.

    Mom takes in a breath, her tone quiet as she says, "if you want to be treated like an adult, you need to act like one."

    "Then maybe you guys should, too." Conrad slurs, finally speaking up.

     Mom stares at him pointedly, "What does that mean?" She asks. Conrad waves his hands in the air, shrugging, "I hope you realize; this night could have ended a lot differently if your family wasn't your family." She's referring to the way the cops brushed everything off after learning the boys were Adam's sons.

    "We're sorry, Laur," Jeremiah says, sounding extremely guilty. His blue eyes are wide, like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

    "Just..." She sighs, rubbing her hand on his forehead tiredly. She had the same stress line that Conrad had smoothed out on my forehead earlier, "go to bed, guys."

    Jeremiah, Belly and Steven leave without a word, happy to get away. Conrad sighs, tiredly pulling himself up, "Florence," mom calls before I can go. I turn to face her, trying to avoid the way Conrad's watching me, "I'm really disappointed that you went behind our backs to help them. You could have gotten in serious trouble. What if a drunk driver hit you or something happened? You set a bad example for your siblings by going behind my back."

    I'm disappointed... her words feel like a punch to the gut. I'd rather she take my laptop away and punish me for helping them over saying those two words to me. "I know," I duck my head, avoiding her disappointed eyes, "I'm sorry."

    I can feel Conrad's eyes watching me, and I pray he's too drunk to remember all of this in the morning. The way he touched my forehead and the words my mom spoke now, her tone laced with disappointment. I didn't want him to remember any of this.

    I go upstairs before mom can say anything else, falling onto my bed before mom can say anything else. You're a disappointment Florence. My brain screams at me, mom's voice echoing through my mind. You should know better. Her words sounded like I was doing something much worse than I was, like some wild girl who never followed the rules. The reality is, though, I've never stepped out of line. I've always been mom's mini adult, the girl who enforced the rules and kept everyone in line. I've been dreadfully good my entire life, going with every single thing she says.

    I'm done. I am done constantly trying to please mom and being the perfect example. For once, I want to do something for me, something she has no control over... and I think I know exactly what to do.

Ugh... Florence and Laurels relationship is full of so much angst! Also the ideas I've got planned for y'all... you aren't ready.