"Finally," Isla greeted me, her smiling face popping up on my phone screen. I'd told her I'd call her as soon as I got the chance, promising to fill her in on everything. Her parents are extremely strict, meaning Isla's always lived vicariously through my summers at Cousins. She loved hearing about the boys and Belly and all the stuff we'd get into during the summer. And last summer, she loved theorizing why Conrad was suddenly so weird towards me, coming up with the most random ideas. "I've been waiting all day. How is everything? Is you know who still being a you know what?"

    I hum, plopping onto my bed, holding my arm up so Isla can see me. My bedding was freshly washed and smelt of the detergent that Susannah uses, the scent comforting and warm. My walls still had the same pictures from childhood hung up, and a large bookshelf filled to the brim with books, fake plants were all around, and a yellow throw sat at the end of my bed. I tell Isla everything about today... about Conrad's awkward greeting, to how he smiled at me in the pool for that split second. I even tell her about the debutante ball that Susannah brought up at dinner.

    "I can't wait till I'm there so I can analyze this boy for myself," she says after my rant. She was coming up for a week for my birthday in July, her first time at Cousins and the boy's first time meeting my infamous back-home best friend.

    "I still can't believe your parents are letting you come," I say, sitting up. Her parents took strictness to a whole new level. It took my mom weeks to convince them that she'd be safe here.

    "Laurel is very convincing," she says, nodding her head. Her red hair is piled into a messy bun on the top of her head, "and I mean, they had to let me go at some point. I'm going to university in the fall. I'm not their little baby anymore."

    I couldn't relate to Isla in that way. Being the oldest meant that mom stopped babying me a long time ago. From no age, I was the one expected to make sure Belly and Steven were okay. I had to be a good example for them and make sure that they weren't doing anything stupid. I was the good kid, the one that never stepped out of line or did something reckless. Belly was that way too, but both Susannah and mom babied her.

    "I wouldn't waste your time analyzing Conrad," I tell her, standing up from my bed. My suitcase still sat on my floor by the door, waiting to be unpacked, "I did all last summer, and by the end of it, I felt like I was going crazy."

    "Yeah, but you're not a soon-to-be phycology major," She reminds me, winking, "I guarantee by the end of my week there, I'll have a proper diagnosis for Conrad Fisher's moodiness."

    I laugh, shaking my head at her, "sure...." I drag out, moving over to sit at the bay window across from my bed. It was stacked with pillows and a quilt that Susannah had made for me when she was sick. She said it helped distract her from the chemo, and it was now my most prized possession and further proof that Susannah Fisher is magic, "or, we could spend the week pretending he doesn't exist, just like he-"I pause, eyes drifting down to the pool. It was dark outside but illuminated by the lights of the pool was Conrad, sitting on the edge with his legs in the water. He held something up to his lips, a puff of smoke blowing out of his mouth, "Oh my god."

    "What?" Isla's eyes were wide, "what is it?"

    "It's Conrad. He's uh...." I turn the camera around so she can see his figure, lifting the joint up to his lips, "he's smoking."

    "Is it bad that I think he looks really hot right now?" She asks me guiltily. She's always found Conrad attractive and used to tell me I should go for it before it's too late. I found her absurd. I mean, sure, Conrad is attractive. I'd have to be blind to think otherwise, but I've never thought of him like that.

    "He used to go on about how he thought smoking was dumb," I tell her, turning the camera back around, "I just wish he would talk to me. It's clear something is going on."

    "Why don't you just talk to him?" She asks, tilting her head to the side, "I mean, maybe it's time you stop waiting for Conrad to say something. Even if you don't become friends again, don't you think you deserve an explanation?"

    "You know what," I stand up, moving over to my door with determination, "you're right. I'm just gonna go out there and ask him what his problem with me is."

    "Yes," She cheered, nodding her head encouragingly, "call me when you're back in your room, okay?"

    "Okay," I nod, shooting her one last smile before hanging up. I feel confident about my decision until I actually step outside, and Conrad looks over to the door where I'm standing. The air is warm and smells like weed and salt water. My words get caught in the back of my throat before I finally say, "you know, I read somewhere that smoking pot changes the way your brain processes information."

    He looks back down at the water, and I can tell he's biting back what he wants to say. I didn't read that somewhere. He told me it one day when we were on the beach, and some guys were smoking nearby, "so does your cellphone." He mutters, kicking the water.

    I sigh, taking a couple of steps closer, "I thought you said smoking was dumb," I say, ignoring the major question I came to ask him. I can see him watching me out of the corner of his eyes, "and that real athletes don't put shit in their bodies."

     "Do you memorize everything I say?" He asks me in a dry tone. Before I can respond, he says, "and I'm not an athlete anymore, so...."

    This is the most he's said to me in a long time. Typically, I get a few words from Conrad, "Right," I move to sit on the other side of the pool, my back facing the house. The water is warm as I dip my feet into it, and I wish I'd changed into a swimsuit before coming out here, "was your dad pissed?"

    "He's always pissed off at something I've done," He shrugs, taking another swig of his joint. He's still looking at the water, "so I don't really care what he thinks."

      Silence falls over us as Conrad kicks the water, smoke floating through the air and over towards me. Up until last summer, there was rarely silence between the two of us, and whenever there was, it was never this awkward. I could practically see the tension floating between us and the metaphorical wall that Conrad put up around me.

     "Why don't you talk to me anymore," I blurt out, sick of the awkward silence between the two of us.

    For a quick second, I can tell my question throws him off, but he fixes his expression so quickly, it's almost like I was seeing things, "we're talking right now."

    "We're not, though," I argue, raising my voice slightly out of frustration, "this is the most we've spoken in almost two years. You ignored me all last summer. You can barely look at me anymore. I thought I did something last summer, but maybe it's you. I just want to know why you hate me all of a sudden."

    Conrad's expression softens, his harsh expression falling into a guilty one. He looks over at me, and this time, he holds my gaze, his green eyes appearing even greener against the pool, "I don't hate you, Florence." He says sincerely.

    I sigh, running my hands through my hair, "then what?" I ask him, "what is it then? We used to tell each other everything, Conrad. You were my best friend... I just wanna know what changed?"

    I can tell he wants to say something. Unlike every other brief conversation we've had since our friendship ended, he hasn't been able to look away from me. His eyes feel like magnets. Even from a few feet away, they're captivating, "we're not kids anymore," He finally says. My heart drops as he looks back at the water, his stoic expression returning, "people change."

    I want to scream at him. What the hell does that even mean? But before I can, the back door closes, and Belly walks out, a towel draped around her shoulder, "Hey," She greets us both, her eyes lingering on Conrad for a couple of seconds before drifting over to me, "are you going for a swim, Flo?"

    "No, no," I rush to stand up, turning to face Belly, "I was just leaving. I told Isla I'd facetime her."

    Belly smiles at me as I walk over to the door, "tell her I said hi."

     I hum, looking over my shoulder one last time before walking inside. He's looking at me from the corner of his eye, his expression blank, "yeah, of course." I say before walking into the house, closing the door behind me.

    I hoped that the conversation with Conrad would provide me with some sort of clarity, but I feel even more confused now. What does he mean, people change? Sure, we've grown up, but we're really that different? Different enough for him to stop talking to me? I sigh, plopping into a kitchen chair, "you okay?" Susannah asks me. I hadn't noticed her and mom in the kitchen, already changed into their PJs.

    "Yeah," I nod, forcing a smile onto my lips, "just tired from the drive. I think I might go to bed early tonight. Go ahead with the movie and save a brownie for me."

    Mom and Susannah share a look, concerned, "Yeah, okay, sweetie," Mom says, looking at me confused, "goodnight."

    "Night," I say before walking up the stairs that lead to our rooms. I call Isla as soon as I'm in my room, sitting back in my bay window, the quilt that Susannah made me tucked under my chin, "so... me and Conrad talked."

So excited for y'all to read the next chapter!!