I left a few minutes before Conrad did, but when I arrived home, his car was pulled into the driveway, vacant. I'd stopped for an iced coffee on my way home and called Isla while I ate the donut I'd picked up, telling her all about my sailing lesson, "you know, I'm still wondering why he was so weird in the first place? Like how does someone go from ignoring you all last year to making out with you in their kitchen?" I have my propped up in my cupholder, allowing Isla to see me while my eyes were on the road.

Once I'm parked, I pick my phone up, propping my hands on the steering wheel, "you and me both," I sigh. Isla is lying in her bed, holding her hands above her head to show me her. Her red hair is splayed around her pillow, messy, "I don't know whether I want to yell at him for everything he's put me through or-"

"Make out with him again."

My cheeks flush, and I'm grateful for the sun I'd gotten while out on the boat this morning, the sun-kissed pink covering the blush that rose upon my cheeks, "I was gonna say yell at him or have a civil conversation about what happened."

I've thought about Isla's suggestion, but I haven't dared to say those words out loud, even to her, "I'd go with yell," She shrugs, sitting up, "for starters, he was a jerk for months, so he deserves it. And secondly, because last time you fought, it ended so romantically."

I roll my eyes. I've always been a hopeless romantic, but only when it comes to those cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms and romance novels. Isla was the kind of person who believed stuff like that could happen in real life, "he was drunk," I remind her, referencing the many glasses he'd had at the book signing and the beer in his hands when we fought.

Isla sighs, running her fingers through her hair, "I get you want to figure things out with Bels, but I really think you should just talk to him. Put what you want over what Belly wants for once in your life. Even if you and Conrad argue, don't you at least want some answers?"

Of course, I do, but we've had this conversation too many times at this point, and no matter what, I was always going to disagree, "and make my sister hate me more than she already does? No, thanks."

"Isn't she dating someone, though?" She asks, quirking her brow, "kind of hypocritical of her to be so pissed about Conrad when she's dating someone else."

I've thought about this and decided that Belly must not like Cam as much as she says. Maybe she's just trying to move on or make Conrad jealous? I have no clue, and to be quite honest, I fear bringing it up would only cause a bigger argument. "Can you just get here so you can observe this all for yourself?"

"If I could get on a bus right now, I would be," She reassures me, chuckling. I can hear someone yelling something on the other line, and she sighs, "I've gotta go. We're going to my brothers. Talk later?"

I nod, "of course," Isla shoots me a grin before hanging up. As soon as I step out of my car, and I hear people shouting and laughing in the backyard. I debate about just going inside and getting started on writing for the day when my feet automatically begin leading me to the backyard, naturally wanting to see what's going on.

"Hey, Flo," Jeremiah calls out. They've pulled out the volleyball net for the pool, with Steven and Jere on one side, opposite Belly and Taylor, "Conrad got back ages ago. What took you so long?"

My eyes fall on Conrad, who's sitting at the edge of the pool, watching their game with his feet dipped in the water, "I grabbed a coffee on the way home," I shrug, holding up the half-empty iced coffee cup in my hand, "and Isla called..." I turn to look at my sister, whose best friend is shooting daggers at me, "nice to see you, Taylor."

Of course, she shoots me a look, not bothering to say something back as she looks to the boys across from her, "you guys ready to keep playing? Or do you give up yet?"

"Never," Jeremiah shakes his head, high-fiving my brother confidently, "now we've got Florence to cheer us on. You're toast."

I go to disagree, saying I need to go inside, but I can tell what Jere's doing. He's trying to make things less awkward, trying to keep me involved despite whatever's going on between my sister and me. That's just who Jere is. He's the peacemaker, the glue that holds us all together. I can't say no to him.

Conrad looks over at me as I sit at the pool's edge, a few feet away from him. The distance between us is staggering compared to how close we were forced to sit on the boat, his knee brushing against my leg whenever he moved. I fiddle around with the rings on my fingers as I watch the volleyball fly back and forth, "I don't think you're ready," Taylor teases Steven, holding the yellow volleyball in her hand.

"Come on."

It's too late by the time I notice the volleyball flying my way, smacking itself against my temple with a thud. Taylor clearly had thrown it with all her strength, and at the sight of her smirk on her face, there's no doubt she did it on purpose, "whoops," She chuckles as I flinch, my hand reaching up to my temple. "my bad."

"Are you okay, Florence?" Jeremiah asks, swimming over to the edge of the pool, concerned.

"Taylor," Steven glares at Belly's friend before swimming up beside Jeremiah. "What the hell?"

"It was an accident," She argues, although the smirk on her face and Belly's averted gaze makes it pretty obvious it's not an accident. She'd wanted to hit me.

"You okay?" Steven asks. It's odd seeing my little brother so concerned for me.

"Yeah," I nod, not letting Belly or Taylor get to me, "No, I'm... I'm totally fine. You guys keep playing. I should get writing anyway."

I shoot both Jeremiah and Steven what I hope is a reassuring smile before standing up and making my way into the house. My head is pounding, and I can already feel a bump forming where the ball smacked me. I sit at the kitchen table, my finger rubbing against my sore temple, when the back door opens, revealing Conrad, "you should put some ice on that," He says, already moving to search through the freezer.

"I'm fine," I tell him, though ice would help prevent the bump.

"She hit you really hard; you might have a concussion," He ignores me, passing me a bag of peas from the freezer. I accept them, sighing with relief at the feeling of the ice on my forehead, "Why are the two of them so pissed off anyway?" He asks, bending down in front of me, his eyes looking into mine.

"It's nothing."

He raises his brow at me, his green eyes still searching mine. Even when I look away, he follows my gaze, concerned.  "Your pupils aren't dilated. So, you should be okay." He says, standing up, leaning against the counter, "and it doesn't seem like nothing. You know you can talk to me if you want. Tell me, what's going on?"

A part of me wants to crumble and tell him everything. About how weird I've felt since kissing him, conflicted because, on the one hand, I can't stop thinking about it and what it'd be like to do it again; but on the other hand, my little sister has been in love with him her whole life and would never forgive me if we did. I can't do that to Belly, even if she's being a jerk right now, "Oh like you talked to me?" I question, deciding that maybe Isla was right, I did need to figure out things with Conrad. Even if that meant arguing. "Don't forget that up until the other night, we'd barely spoken."

My anger towards Belly and Taylor that I'd been pushing down bubbles up, and I'm too stubborn to admit to Conrad what's actually wrong. So, I decide to put it on him instead, letting my anger about him ignoring me all last summer out instead, "I know, I just thought-"

He hesitates, and I finish his sentence for him, "that because you kissed me, I'd forget everything else?" He averts his gaze for a second, his jaw clenched. He thought precisely that. That one little kiss would make me forget the year of hell he'd put me through. "you're the one who stopped talking to me, Conrad. You're the reason last summer was hell for me. So, you don't get to act like I'm in the wrong here; none of this is my fault."

Conrad sighs, frustrated as he runs his fingers through his hair, "I never said it was your fault, Flo," He speaks in a quiet tone, clearly not wanting to argue right now, "It's mine. It's all my fault, and I will-"

His phone chiming a few times, cuts him off. His phone, which he'd placed on the table, displays Cleveland's names above the many texts coming through, "you're late," I say to him, placing the bag of ice back on the table.

"Shit," He mutters, his eyes wide, "I've gotta go. Can we talk later?"

I glance out the window as he rushes to grab his keys off the counter, my eyes landing on Belly. I can see her watching the kitchen window with a glare. Conrad following me in probably wasn't the best look. She probably thought we were doing anything but arguing right now. As much as I want to talk to him and truly figure things out, I can't. I need to fix whatever's going on with my sister.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I finally say, looking over at him. His eyes are frantic. Wanting to stay here, but stressed about being late. "I just... I've got a lot going on right now, with Belly and everything..."

Conrad tries not to sound upset as he nods. But I can see the way the hopefulness in his eyes fades, his voice unenthusiastic as he says, "yeah, yeah, of course." He says, tugging at his hair, "I, uh, should go."

He leaves the kitchen before I can say anything else, the front door slamming on his way out. As soon as I'm alone, I groan, my head falling into my arms on the table, frustrated. No matter how hard I try, I keep ruining everything. 

Ugh these two are killing me. I promise, you will get cute Cornad/ Florence scenes eventually! they're both just super bad at sharing how they truly feel lol

If you didn't see my message board early, I planned out all the future chapters early... and ya'll are not ready for what I've got coming!!