"You've got to be kidding me," I sigh as Isla and I enter the kitchen. The counters were trashed with junk food and wrappers. Our pantry emptied out along the kitchen island. I've only ever seen the place like this a few other times, all of which mom and Susannah were stoned, high off their minds.

    "They ate the good muffins," Isla frowned. Jeremiah had picked them up earlier for her to try. 

    "Mom and Susannah are stoned," I explain, not bothering to pick anything up and clean. Could she be more hypocritical? Just yesterday, she was yelling at me for getting drunk and acting irresponsible, and now she's somewhere in the house, stoned out of her mind in the middle of the afternoon?

    "How do you know-"

     "My beautiful girl," Susannah sings, walking into the kitchen. She's wearing her painting smock, her hair tied into a low bun, "look how cute you look in your new dress. Did you have a good time at rehearsal?"

    I couldn't be pissed at Susannah, not when she was so smiley, wrapping her arm over my shoulder affectionately. She seemed upset about something yesterday. It was nice to see her happy again, "my dance partner kept stepping on my feet," I answered Susannah, nudging Isla.

    Susannah reached over, squeezing Isla's cheek between her fingers, "well, at least your cute. Maybe you should join the Deb. I'm sure I could get Jeremiah to take you."

    "I think my parents would have a heart attack," Isla laughs, shaking her head, "I'll be there, though, promise."

    "Good," Susannah nods, running her fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear. "My girl is going to look so beautiful in her white dress."

    "Beck," I can hear mom calling from upstairs, her voice slurring, "where'd you go?"

    I can't deal with her right now. I can't take care of them and pretend as if my mom hadn't yelled at me for being irresponsible yesterday and is now stoned, "I think I'm gonna take Isla into town for a bit," I tell Susannah. Our original plan for this afternoon was to lounge by the pool and swim, but the urge to go out was strong now, "Hit up some shops."

    Susannah nods absentmindedly, her mind already somewhere else as she grabs a package of chocolate chip cookies, calling for my mom to come down. I guide Isla out before mom can see us, leaving through the back door and walking around to the front, where our car is sitting. "I thought you hated shopping?" Isla asks, sitting in the passenger seat.

    I back out of the driveway, looking over my shoulder, "would you rather stay and hang out with my stoned mom and her best friend?"

    "Touché."

     Isla and I both purchase over-priced iced coffee before hitting up a vintage store in town, hidden treasures. The interior was bright and colourful, filled with trinkets and racks upon racks of clothing. Some were questionable, pieces of clothes from decades ago that were no longer cute or trendy whatsoever, but then there were these gems hidden amongst the clothes that were gorgeous.

    The two of us had decided to shop for one another. My cart was full of things I thought she'd like. Isla's style was cool, and even though she didn't necessarily follow trends, she always looked good, wearing pieces from the 80's and 90's she'd collect from thrift stores around where we live. "You ready?" I ask her, meeting up near the changing rooms. We have the shop almost entirely to ourselves, minus the older woman behind the counter who'd been watching us with a hint of amusement.

    "I definitely beat you," Isla informs me, swapping carts with me.

     "This wasn't a competition." I laugh, eying her cart. It was just as full as the one I'd passed to her, but there was one major item hung over everything, a white gown.

    "Try that one on last," Isla nudges me, noticing how my gaze lingers on the satin. The two of us both go into separate changing rooms, coming out to model our pieces. Isla knows my style better than anyone; everything she grabbed fit like a glove, all neutral tones and soft lines. "Okay, I'm ready."

    "What do you think?" I twirled out of the room, faking a British accent. I was wearing the white gown she'd chosen. I hadn't taken enough time to see how it truly looks, but it fit perfectly, hugging my figure like it was made for me. "Do I like ready for the ball?" I expect Isla to make a joke and continue along the conversation in a posh accent, but she simply stares at me, her green eyes wide, "I know, I know," I smooth down the skirt, "it's ridiculous. Trust me, though, the one Susannah picked out for me is worse. It's mermaid style, and I kept tripping in it."

    "Are you kidding?" Isla asks, scoffing. She tugs me over to the large mirror in the center of the dressing room, standing behind me, looking at me through the reflection, "I am a genius. This dress is perfect on you."

    I allow my eyes to scan the length of my body in the mirror, taking in the way the satin material hugs my chest, billowing into a gorgeous skirt, one that's not too poufy but not so tight that I can barely walk in it. In the light, I could see that it was more of an ivory shade now, faded with age, and it fit me perfectly, not needing to be hemmed or fitted at my waist. The sleeves weren't my typical style. They reminded me of the ones worn in shows like Bridgerton by girls far fancier than myself, but they looked good. "Wow," is all I can say, running my fingers over the smooth satin again, "you're right, it is kind of perfect."

    "Perfect seems like an understatement, to be honest," Isla admits, pulling my hair behind my shoulders, tucking it behind my ears, "it does look like it's missing something, though, right?" Before I could respond, she rushed out of the change room, "I know just the thing. Give me a second."

    When she returned, she was out of breath from running around the store, but she'd holding something in her hand, a necklace with pearls and crystals, the chain itself was twisted to look like a vine. It was dainty and delicate looking. She was right. As she clasped it on my neck, I realized how the necklace fits so well with the squared neckline, adding something that I hadn't even realized was missing, "Conrad is going to flip when he sees you in this," Isla smiled at me excitedly.

    I could see myself dancing in this dress, the skirt flowing with each turn. My other dress is nice, it's very pretty, but this dress makes me feel beautiful, "Too bad he won't," I say to Isla, turning around to face her. "I already have a dress. One Susannah is ecstatic about. I don't want to hurt her feelings."

    Isla sighs because she knows I'm right. I'd told her how excited Susannah was to buy Belly and I's dresses. She even teared up when I came out in mine, as if she were buying me my dress for my wedding day and not just a debutante ball. I couldn't say no to her, and Isla understood that. "Fine," She sighs, pouting, "put it on hold at least? Maybe you can take Susannah here and show it to her. Once she sees you in this, there is no way she won't understand."

    I glance back at the dress, debating her suggestion. I didn't feel like some girl playing pretend in this, I felt like myself, but more confident. "Okay, deal."

This chapter is super short, but that's only because the next one is going to be longer and I didn't want to add this scene in it!

here is the items Florence is wearing...

Dress

Necklace