"Attention, everyone." Paige, the woman running the debutante ball, walked into the large room we were all dispersed around. An older woman wearing a tweed yellow jacket stood beside her, "please welcome our debutante waltz instructor, Ms. Covington, all the way from Ms. Covington's school of ballroom dance in Newton."

We all clapped politely, "Thank you, Paige." The woman sounds posh and just as intimidating as Jeremiah made her sound out to be, "as you all know, the waltz is the most highly anticipated part of the ball, so, please join your partners now..."

"M'lady," Isla holds her hand out to me, deepening her voice as if she's a man. I still don't have a date to the Deb, meaning Isla was my only option for dance rehearsal this morning.

Both Isla and I bit our lips to refrain from giggling as we followed Ms. Covington's instructions, finding the entire thing way funnier than it actually was. By the time she'd finished explaining what we had needed to do, Isla had let out a deep breath, her shoulder slumping, "you better find a date because I love you, but the two of us are terrible dance partners." Despite dancing the boy's part, Isla is shorter than me, straining on her tiptoes to reach.

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes, "I'm working on it." I wasn't, to be quite honest, with everything that'd been going on, finding a date to the debutante had been the furthest thought on my mind.

"Have you now?" She asks, wiggling her brows at me. She wore a dress from my closet, the green colour making her red hair pop, "let me guess... is he tall? Kind of moody? Goes by the name Con-"

I shush her before she can finish her sentence, my eyes scanning the room to make sure Belly and Nicole didn't hear her. My conversation with Nicole yesterday was still blurry, but whatever it was, she was pissed about it. She'd been ignoring me all morning, her glare piercing me from across the room, "someone could hear you."

Sighing, Isla lowered her tone to a whisper, "it's killing me not knowing what happened between you two," She admitted, frustrated. She'd been fast asleep by the time I got back in my room, and despite wanting to tell her this morning, it was hard to find the time.

I give in to Isla's pleading eyes, quietly whispering what happened with Conrad, careful that none of the other girls can hear. Isla, who usually interjects when I'm telling stories with loud reactions and commentary, stays completely silent, her eyes growing wider as the story goes on, "and then I went back to my room."

"That's it?" She asks. She sounds almost disappointed, "you're telling me after all that you didn't kiss?"

"I think we both needed the hug, to be honest," I shrug, pressing my lips together to repress a grin. I needed it a lot, actually. Everything in my life feels like it's going a mile, a minute, too fast for me to control. Being in Conrad's arms made everything stop like the world was frozen or something. For the first time in weeks, I wasn't thinking about Belly or our mom. I'd felt at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Well, I'm happy you both worked things out," She smiles, squeezing my hand in hers, "also lowkey disappointed I hadn't thought of that in the first place. Of course, he's liked you all along."

I chuckle, rolling my eyes, "am I like a bad feminist, though, for forgiving him so quickly?" I ask her. It was stupid of him to ignore me like that, and he really hurt my feelings. My head was screaming at me to make him suffer for a little bit, but my heart was yearning for me to brush it all away and focus on us. "Like he was a jerk, but it's Conrad. He's never been good at sharing how he feels."

"Of course, you're not," Isla shakes her head, "you know your worth. If he treats you badly again, it's over."

"Exactly," I nod. Glad Isla understood where I'm coming from, "I, uh, think I might ask him to the Deb..."

"Shut up," She smacks my arm, causing Ms. Covington to glare, her cherry-painted lips pinched together into a ferocious scowl. "You guys will look so cute. I know my parents won't want me to, but I will literally do anything to see you and Con together at the Deb."

"I might," I remind her, the keywords that she quickly skipped over, "I've still gotta smooth things over with Bels a bit, warn her about it at least."

I expect Isla to groan or complain, but her gaze lingers over my shoulder, her brow quirking, "Maybe you don't have to worry about it." Furrowing my brows at her, I peek over my shoulder, Jeremiah had entered the room recently, and he and Belly both shared dimpled smiles, dancing together.

"Jeremiah's sworn off balls," I inform her, she chokes back a laugh, and I slap her shoulder, glaring, "the dancing kind, you weirdo."

Before she could respond to me, upbeat music cut her off. Girls start cheering as Jeremiah breaks away from dancing with my sister, freestyling instead. It doesn't take long for everyone to join along. Isla has never been a good dancer. She's offbeat and wiggling around awkwardly, causing me to giggle.

"What is going on here?" I jump at the sound of Paige's voice, turning on my heel to face the front, my hands interlocked in front of me. She turns the music off before addressing Jeremiah, who's dressed in his lifeguarding gear, "Jeremiah Fisher, why aren't you at the pool?"

"We had a code brown," I share a look with Isla at his explanation, our noses scrunching in disgust, "we lost the keys to the chemical closet."

Sighing, Paige tosses him a key, "there you go."

Jeremiah shares a smile with my sister before leaving, nodding his head. Paige starts speaking again, but my mind wanders as someone turns the corner, walking past Jeremiah as he departs. Conrad is leaning against the entryway, his hands tucked into his pockets. His hair's brushed the side, soft and still a little wet from his morning shower. "Hi," He mouths, raising his hand in a two-finger wave.

I tug my lower lip between my teeth, trying to repress the grin that longed to dance across my lips. Unlike me, Conrad doesn't resist it; his pouty lips are turned upward into a crooked grin, one I longed to walk over and straighten out by placing my lips on his. "Miss Park," Ms. Covington scolds me, approaching Isla and I, "I do hope you'll have a proper partner by the time the ball rolls around, one with better coordination, perhaps?"

I notice that Isla doesn't scoff at the woman but can't decide whether it's because Ms. Covington makes her nervous or if it's because the older woman is right. Isla had already stepped on my feet multiple times this morning, "I will," I reassured the woman, who looked at me unsurely before walking away.

"Hell yeah, you will," Isla cheers, placing her hands back in my own, her other one straining to reach my shoulder blades, "you and Conrad are gonna be the hottest couple there."

I look over her shoulder to find Conrad, frowning once I notice he's gone, no longer leaning against the doorframe, "he went last year," I remind Isla, although my grin has broken through my lips, giddy over seeing him, "he might not want to go again."

Before she can reply, my phone dings from the pocket of the baby blue dress, I'm wearing. Peeking to make sure no one's looking, I pull it out from my pocket. My wallpaper is a picture of Isla and me at prom, both holding our poufy dresses up to reveal our converse clad feet.

It sucks you can't come sailing today. See you when I get back?

-Conrad

"Flo," Isla looks at me like I'm crazy, peeking to read the message before I shove it back in my pocket. "That boy just drove all the way over here to see you and is making sure he's going to see you later... Of course, he'll want to be your date."

I want to disagree, not wanting to get my hopes up, but I smile, giddily asking, "you really think he came all this way to see me?"

    "Did you see his smile?" Isla squeezes my hand in hers, nodding, "He totally did."  

My service and wifi have been out for days due to some stupid issues in Canada, so sorry for the delay! I'm back!

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