"Okay, on a scale of one to ten, how stupid do I look?" Isla twirls into my room, facing Jeremiah and I. She pushes her red hair over her shoulder dramatically, showing off her flared dress pants and black blazer. The Deb ball is tomorrow night, and after long and hard consideration, I figured it'd be best if Isla came with me, not wanting to put anything else on Conrad's already very stressful plate.

    "Are you kidding?" Jeremiah asks, standing up from my bed, he twirls Isla around in a circle, letting a giggle escape her lips, "you look badass."

    "I second that," I tell her, standing up from my bed, despite the Deb not being till tomorrow, both Isla and I were changed into our outfits so Susannah could paint our portraits. She was painting one of the two of us, claiming that Isla was a part of the family now. "And you look way comfier, I can hardly breath in this."

    My dress is mermaid style and tight around my chest and hips. I didn't think it was possible to feel claustrophobic in an outfit until right now. I envy Isla's pants and jacket, which fit her tiny frame loosely.

    "You're lucky I love you," Isla tells me, teasingly. She found being my Deb partner funny, we both said it was a memory we'd look back on one day and tell our kids, "Steven's even roped me into doing the escort dance."

     "I'm sure it'll be fine," Jeremiah reassures, placing a hand on my best friends shoulder.

    I laugh, shaking my head at Jeremiah, "you clearly haven't seen Isla dance, she has no rhythm. You should of seen her at the prom, a guy would approach her and ask her to dance, and slowly abort once they saw her moves."

    Isla does this weird thing were she wiggles her hips, her arms in the air like one of those balloon things outside of car dealerships with the long arms. While my best friend was amazing at many things, dancing is not one of them. Every time we've practiced our waltz she stepped on my toes.

     "Well, maybe you just need a better teacher," Jere shrugs, his tone flirtatious. He and Isla have gotten a lot closer since she decided to stay, although whenever I brought it up she'd shush me and claim he was just being welcoming.

       I make a fake puking noise, covering my mouth with my hand, "that was disgustingly cheesy," I tell him, ruffling his hair as I walk towards my bedroom door, "I'll meet you outside."

    The sun was just about to set, Susannah said she wanted to paint Isla and I at golden hour, claiming the light was best then. She'd already tackled Belly's painting this afternoon, my sister fidgeting the whole time in her giant cupcake dress. "Got a hot date tonight?" I flinch at the sound of Conrad's voice, turning to see him leaning against his doorway. He'd just gotten back from surfing, his white t-shirt
slightly clinging to his chest, his hair wet. "Or is this a new look you're trying out?"

     "If I said it was a date, would you crash it again?" I ask him, tugging at the fabric clinging to my hips uncomfortably.

     "That guy was a jerk," Conrad sighs, tugging at his hair. I mentally scold myself for wanting to reach out and brush the loose strands that fall over his forehead. Keep yourself together, Florence. "I was doing you a favour."

    "That and you were jealous," I nod, smirking. It all made sense now that I knew Conrad's feelings. He crashed my date with Tripp that night because he was jealous of him.

    "I think I made that pretty obvious," Conrad shrugs, he says it so confidently, and I'm thrown off by it slightly. Remembering the way he made his jealousy known to me, the way his lips felt against mine and his hands held my hips. That night felt like it was a million years ago and yesterday at the same time. "I've gotta be honest, I'm pretty glad you're going to the ball with Isla. I don't have to be jealous now."

    Conrad and I haven't talked about the ball, a small part of be doubted asking Isla instead of Conrad. I could picture how nice he'd look in the tux, and the way his strong hands would hold me during the waltz, but then I think of how much Conrad has on his back right now, pushing him down. I can't add more to his already heavy schedule.

     I guess a part of me thought Conrad would be a little upset about it, but I guess he isn't. I should feel relieved by this, but instead I feel conflicted.

     "You good there, Flo?"

     I don't realize how I'm tugging on my dress, trying to make it less suffocating. I don't want to disappoint Susannah, but I can't help but hate this dress, nothing about it is comfortable. "Not used to dressing so fancy, I guess," I shrug, "don't really feel like myself."

    "Just wear your sweats," He shrugs, like that's no big deal, "you'd still be the prettiest girl there."

My cheeks grow warm, and I'm sure a light pink blush is beginning to coat my cheeks, evident to Conrad, "You've never seen the other Deb girls then, huh?"

    "No, I have." Conrad answers, his tone confident. "They're no Florence Park, though."

    "Flo, you ready?" Isla walks out of my room before I can reply to Conrad, who's bashfully leaning against his door frame. Isla links her arm through mine, shooting Conrad a smile.

    She seems more anxious than normal as she drags me away from Conrad. I look over my shoulder to look at him as we leave, shooting him a look as he shrugs his shoulders, unbothered by Isla. "We need to talk," Isla whispers, her tone eager.

    "Is everything okay?" I ask her, my brows furrowed as we walk down the stairs.

     "Jeremiah just kisssed me," Isla whispers. I'm shocked to here her tone, not excited or giddy, but almost scared. Isla and I weren't the biggest daters, partially because all the guys in our high school were complete idiots.

    "Is that a bad thing?" I ask her, cautiously.

     "No, no, it's just..." She sighs, tugging at her red hair, "I'm about to go to college... I can't have a boyfriend."

    "Who said anything about boyfriends?" I ask her, thinking back to my perdiciment with Conrad. I mean sure, we like each other, and we've kissed, but that doesn't mean he's my boyfriend, or that he even wants to be that. Conrad has never been the kind of guy who's had girlfriends, and I don't expect him to want me that way, to be honest. "Just go with the flow, see where the rest of the summer takes you."

    "Go with the flow," Isla nods, repeating my words to herself. "I can do that."

     "I'm debating answering this, but," I sigh, nudging her, "was it good?"

      Isla's cheeks beginning to grow nearly as red as her hair, her nervous expression fading into a small smile, "he offered to help me with the dance steps, and dipped me..." I shake my head amused, that sounds just cheesy enough to be a Jeremiah move. "I don't have much experience beside's kissing Tommy Bolton in Romeo and Juliet for the school play, but I'd say it was pretty good."

    Pretty good seemed like an understatement to her, her smile was giddy, her cheeks flushed, "Jeremiah's a sweetheart." I reassured her, awkwardly fidgeting with the top of my dress. It was so tight, pressing my chest down so hard I could barely breath.

    "Speaking of sweethearts," She nods her head towards the stairs, "how's things going with lover boy?"

    It was unusual for me to keep things from Isla, normally I tell her everything; but I'd kept whatever's happening between Conrad and I on the down low, not telling her about how he helped me bathe or napped with me while they were at volleyball the other day. "We're friends, Isla," I remind her for what feels like the 100th time, "nothing more."

    "Yeah, but you want it not be more," Isla winks, tilting her head teasingly.

     "I want us to fix our friendship," I say, the two of us were still getting into the groove of how things used to be, and even if I do think more about his lips and hands now, that doesn't mean we should date. "And he's going through stuff," I also haven't told Isla about Susannah, one of the hardest and worst secrets I've ever kept. It's not that I don't want to, I wish I could. Susannah clearly doesn't want us to know though, it'd crush her if it spread any further.

    "Stuff," Isla rolls her eyes, and it takes everything in me not to tell her off, if she knew she'd never react like this, "I will never understand how one boy can be so angsty? It must be tiring, really."

    Tiring seems like the right word, with everything Conrad's going through I doubt he's had a chance to let his mind rest. I wish I could take it all away, let him have one day where he doesn't have to think about it, but I can't. This is why things have to stay the way they are. I will not be another reason for Conrad to be stressed, "Susannah's waiting for us," I say, changing the conversation as I tug on my dress, "we should go."

Posting this from my hotel room in Rome, but had some time on my hands, so finally had some time to write! It's not edited super well, but it's here lol!
What do y'all want to see happen? I think there's only going to be a few more chapters:(