REBEL SUN      ╱      CONRAD FISHER
꒷꒦ · ˚.‧ .  written by ella . . . © -lostgardens
chapter 005 ━━━━━ ❛ rebel memories ❜

"Conrad, what are we doing here?" Amber asked, letting out a small laugh with a bright smile on her face.

It was a month into summer. The days were warm, the nights calm, the moon bright, and the ocean and waves peaceful. The wind blew through her long, loose curls, causing them to fly behind her, some in her face. A shiver went down her spine, and she moved closer to Conrad.

The boy of dreams was holding her hand, leading her across the sand and further onto the beach, and that sent an extreme amount of flutters in her stomach. She'd never felt happier than she did at this moment. He made her so happy. Just her and him on the beach—her favorite place in the entire world with her favorite person. What could be better?

The sand was beneath their feet, going in between their toes, which was usually a feeling Amber hated, but at that moment, it didn't matter to her. They were in the spot right in front of the boardwalk, located right near the beach house. The sun had begun setting, casting a beautiful, glowing array of colors on the water in front of them.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

"We're here to have our first official date," he answered with an equally bright smile. He glanced down at a blanket that was laid on the sand through his round, thin-rimmed glasses, staring at the set-up he had made just for her. There were rocks on the corners holding the blanket in place, a basket full of her favorite snacks, and an extra blanket in case they got chilly. Then he met her love-struck, blue-eyed gaze.

"A date, really?" she asked teasingly, raising her brows.

"Yes, a date, Am," he replied, playing with the ends of her messy hair as his other hand made its way to her waist. "Is that so shocking?" He smirked, pulling her closer to him as he pushed some hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear.

She shrugged her shoulders while he continued to stare at her with admiration. His bright green eyes were on her ocean blue ones. He then backed away, grabbing her hand again, and guided her down onto the soft blue blanket that she had just noticed was decorated with a pattern of seashells—all different types and all just a shade lighter than the blanket itself.

As they sat there, she focused on the ocean, taking in all of its wonderful glory. And he stared at her, taking in all of her beautiful glory.

The ocean was Amber's safe place, the place that kept her calm and brought her peace. She loved it so much, and she felt that she would die if she could never see it again.

Amber was Conrad's ocean.

She felt his gleaming eyes all over her face. And when she faced him, she was met with a small smile etched on his face. It was all so brilliant, so fluttering-in-her-gut-filling. Peace. The ocean. Conrad and Amber. It was everything she ever dreamed of.

A smile fought its way onto her face as her cheeks heated up. "What are you staring at?" she asked, giving him an adorned look with slightly narrowed eyes.

"You," he responded, giving her a make-his-face-hurt smile. "I'm taking in your beauty," he added, causing Amber's freckled face to flush even more. Noticing this, his smile turned more into a smirk. He liked the way he made her flustered with just a compliment.

She lightly pushed his shoulder, mumbling, "Shut up," to which he just stared at her.

They fell silent, taking in the moment for as long as they could, just staring at each other. The large smiles had wilted into small ones, and their eyes gleamed with something neither one of them could quite place.

Conrad had brought Amber to look at the stars, her second favorite thing in the world—that and music (specifically Taylor Swift)—but there they were, only looking at each other, having no plans to stop anytime soon. Their eyes danced between each other, looking for all of the love in the world. It was there—it was all there, and both of them were swooning.

It was just like her dreams.

Seconds passed, then minutes; their eye contact never broke. The waves were crashing in front of them, and the sun had finally set. The stars were beginning to twinkle and shine like diamonds. Amber and Conrad were two people who seemed to be in love. And silence incasted them, alongside peace and the salt air.

Nothing was going to ruin this moment. Nothing.

Conrad began to lean in closer, and Amber did the same. Then there it was, their lips on one another. And then their hands were in each other's hair, pulling at the strands as their lips continued to touch in a deep, love-filled kiss and their hearts swooned for one another. The waves were the only source of noise as he laid back on the blanket, and she moved so that she was on top of him.

Amber...

"Amber," a voice, brought her back into reality.

She quickly shot her eyes open, and she sat up, taking in her surroundings. She was on one of the couches in the living room, and everyone's eyes were on her. Conrad's, who sat on the other couch drinking a green drink, one that she recognized to be his brother's infamous hangover cure, and Aiden, Belly, Steven, Laurel, and Susannah's as they all sat in the kitchen. And finally, Jeremiah's, who was looking at her with amusement as he held a drink identical to the one his brother had.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Jeremiah told her, sending her a small smile that lit up his whole face. Then he stuck out his hand, bringing the glass of the green drink to her. "Here," he said as she took the glass. "I think you'll need this."

Most definitely. "It's fine, and thank you," she sheepishly smiled, trying to forget about what was just on her mind. "I was just dreaming about... something," she added, hating that she had said that and not really wanting to elaborate any further. Yeah, it was something, alright.

"Oh, do tell," Jeremiah teased, sitting down on the couch next to her with a curious expression on his tanned face. He had the most devious look swirling in his eyes, and she quickly looked away, feeling her face heat at the memory.

He gasped dramatically when she continued to focus on the floor. "Don't tell me it was about me," he joked, placing a flattered hand over his heart.

"No," she replied quickly, breathing out a laugh as her eyes widened at the thought.

She wished and prayed that she didn't say or do something embarrassing while she was sleeping that would cause the people around her to speculate about what she had been dreaming about. That would be embarrassing, and she would want to cry. When she looked around, she saw that none of their eyes were on her anymore—apart from the two Fisher boys, one of whom was trying to make it look like he didn't care what they were talking about.

"Okay," he dragged out with a slightly offended chuckle. "I will try not to take offense at how certain you sound."

Amber lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip of the drink. Immediately regret  filled her core, and she swore her stomach grumbled because of the taste. "Oh my—Jere, that's disgusting," she mumbled as her face twisted in disgust and she put her hand over her mouth.

"I know, but it works like a charm." He offered her another bright smile, showcasing his extremely white teeth. And with that, he got up from the couch and made his way back to the kitchen, passing Susannah as she stepped into the living room, giving him a small smile.

Amber bent forward to place the glass on one of the coasters on the table as Susannah's eyes landed on her. "Amber," the woman began, catching the girl's attention. She gave her a bright, closed-lipped smile as Amber met her eye. "Who do you want to be your escort for the ball?" she asked, not even giving Amber a second to think. "Steven, Jeremiah, or..." She paused, her eyes darting to her son, who sat opposite Amber, looking bored as ever. "Or Conrad?"

"I- What? My escort?" Amber furrowed her brows, still trying to wipe her dream from her mind and rid her tastebuds of Jeremiah's disgustingly gross hangover cure. "I haven't even decided if I want to be a deb or not," she reminded the woman, ignoring the look she received from Conrad.

It was Susannah's turn to be confused. "Yeah, you did," Susannah replied, not letting her smile falter. "When you and Conrad came in from the beach, I asked if you decided to be a deb or not, and you said you did."

"Did I?" Amber asked, running a hand through her hair (it got stuck, so she had to tug it out). Remind her never to get high with Conrad again, because she had little to no memory of that conversation or even how she got into the house. She probably should've told him that when she said that she "smoked," it meant that she had done it once with Judas to rid herself of nerves for a little bit.

"Yeah." Susannah nodded.

"Oh, right." Amber laughed like the memory had just dawned on her, when, in fact, it had not dawned on her. It was gone, wiped from her mind. Well, actually, it was faint, lingering in the air, but she could seem to grab a hold of it and remember it fully. "Uh, actually, um..." She paused, swallowing the rather large nervous lump in her throat. "I don't want to be a deb," she said slowly and nervously of the woman's reaction. Her voice grew quieter, and she did not miss the flinch of disappointment that flickered on Susannah's features. "Maybe next year?" she offered with a sheepish shrug and smile.

"Yeah, maybe," Susannah responded, her tone tight with disappointment, but the smile kept on her face. She lingered in the doorway for a moment, staring at the girl, looking like she wanted to say something else. But she didn't. And she turned around, walking back into the kitchen.

And Amber felt like shit.

Sighing, she ran her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. Then she focused on the table in front of her as her fingers threaded through the strands of her hair, barely tugging at her roots. She could feel Conrad watching her, and she was sure he could feel her ignoring him.

She didn't know why she was ignoring him; they had a good moment on the beach this morning, and she felt like they were in a better place than when she had returned. Perhaps it was the memory still lingering in her mind.

She needed a shower.

Was it because she felt gross and didn't want to wait to take one once everyone decided they needed one too? Or was it because the shower was the best place and time for her to think? Yes.

She still felt a little dazed—the side effects of the weed, no doubt—as she stood. Dismissing that feeling, she tried not to look at Conrad as she walked past the table. But it was as if the universe despised her; he was standing in front of her, and she ran into his chest.

Trying desperately not to inhale his familiar scent, she looked up, meeting his gaze as he looked down at her. She took a rather large step back, putting some distance in between them as he just followed her movements with his eyes.

"Reb- Amber," he muttered under his breath.

She looked down at the ground, ignoring the heat on her face from the heat of his gaze. A moment passed between them, and then she brushed past him, going right to the stairs. As she walked through the kitchen, she could hear Susannah gushing about Belly being a deb, and Amber was glad that at least one of them got to live her life-long dream.

And with full honesty, she could too, but she couldn't, if that makes sense.

It didn't matter; she sighed.

━━━━━

Amber had decided to retreat to her room after a long, steamy shower that she had so desperately needed. She was walking to her room with only a towel wrapped around her body when she walked past Conrad's room. His door was slightly ajar, just enough for someone to see into it.

She fought the urge to take a glimpse. That was a battle she quickly lost.

From what she could see from the little crack that was between his door and the door frame, she noticed that his room hadn't changed one bit, and that made her heart swell. She didn't know why such a small thing could make her have such a strong feeling. That was when another memory came flooding back to her—one that she hadn't had an ounce of strength to fight.

"Happy belated birthday, Amber." Conrad gave her a warm smile, handing her a small black box as they sat on his bed.

Amber's thirteenth birthday had just passed, just two days prior. That hadn't really done a celebration like they usually did with Belly's. Everyone gave her a gift, though, and wished her a happy birthday. Her mother took her out to breakfast; it was their annual tradition, and then they shopped around a bit. It was fun when it was just she and her mom, but she wished they would've done something with everyone—that everyone would do something with her.

"Is this what I think it is?" Amber asked, eyeing the box. She glanced up at him, then back down at the box before taking it from his hands.

He offered a small smile, focusing on her, then the gift, then back on her. "If you think it's another charm for your bracelet, then yes, it's exactly what you think it is," he admitted, not really caring to keep the secrecy.

A smile broke on her face as she looked at him with happiness in her eyes. Then she glanced down at the box, lifted the lid off, and studied what was inside—a silver star charm. It was beautiful and perfect; all of the charms Conrad gave her were beautiful and perfect.

This was their tradition ever since Conrad gave her the bracelet and the first charm that accompanied it for her sixth birthday. Over the years, she had it resized—the first reason being that she got older and her wrist slightly bigger, and the second being that she wanted more room for all of the charms she loved dearly. So far, she had an 'A', a treble clef, a sitting-down cat, an ocean wave, an open book, her zodiac sign (Gemini), a butterfly, and now, a star—all of them completely silver and all of them completely custom to her.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed out, excitedly nibbling at her lips as she removed the star from the box to examine it more closely.

"You really like it?" he asked, studying her closely.

"No. I love it, just like I love all of the other ones," she corrected, giving him a small smile as her hands fell into her lap, charm still in one of her hands. "Now, can you do the honor of putting it on my bracelet?" She raised her brows at the same time as she did the star charm.

"Of course," he replied, curtly nodding. "What are friends for?" He smiled, focusing her bright eyes through his glasses.

She just returned a half-hearted smile as he took the charm from her hand, held her wrist gently, and began to put it on the bracelet, just like he had so many times before.

Oh, Conrad. If only you knew how badly she wanted to be more than just friends...

If only you knew. Would you feel the same?

Amber shook the thought from her mind, realizing that she had definitely been standing there way too long. She was still just in her towel, and she had been lucky that no one had come up the stairs to catch her in her head.

Letting out a long sigh, she continued her journey to her room. When she entered, the all-too-familiar blue wallpaper caught her eye just before she glanced down at the floor beside her bed and saw the bag of peas still sitting there. She supposed she had to deal with it like she told herself she would the prior night.

She walked over to the bag, picking it up from the floor and setting it on her nightstand. As it left her hands, her eyes landed on the invitation that still sat on the wood-painted-blue tabletop, then they went onto the picture of her and her childhood cat, an orange Persian Tabby named Garfield.

A small smile made its way onto her face as she stared at the picture of her beloved pet. She missed that cat dearly. Five years of life, and he'd been taken from the world by an idiot driver. She remembered seeing the picture there before she had gone back to her room after Laurel's lecture but hadn't been able to re-examine it through her blurred, tear-filled vision. And, yes, she was aware the name was cliché.

After a moment of remembering the furball she once called her pet, she moved away from her nightstand and over to her closet, needing to get dressed. There, she picked out the clothes she was going to wear for the day and took off her towel so she could put on her outfit.

Then, she went back over to her nightstand, picked up the invitation, and went to put it in her nightstand drawer. When she opened the drawer, she saw that it was empty. Well, all except for one particular and familiar picture. A picture that she didn't want to see again—or remember ever.

She inhaled, putting the invitation in place of the picture as she took it out of the drawer. The captured moment was one between her and Conrad. They were smiling. They were happy. Amber wondered where times like that had gone. She missed those moments. It was like, with a blink of an eye, they all faded into thin air, floating about with the sea.

She closed the drawer a little harder than she probably should've, still studying the picture that was gripped in between her fingers a little tighter than it probably should've. And with the release of the breath she hadn't been aware she was holding, she sat on her bed, feeling like a ton of bricks had just been thrown at her.

The memory came flooding back to her, and she hated that. She didn't understand why everything was suddenly reminding her of the past; she didn't want to remember the past—none of it.

The family sat on the beach. It was just the moms and their kids, just like all the good moments had always been. The sun was beginning to slowly set, but it was still bright, and the sound of laughter and waves crashing filled the air.

It was a perfect summer day—sunny and fun—and the teenagers had been swimming for the entirety of it. Jeremiah, Aiden, Belly, and Steven were still in the water, laughing and splashing each other in the face, as Amber and Conrad sat mere feet from the moms on the beach, lost in their own world.

The two love-struck teens were laughing as they joked back and forth with one another. They weren't paying attention to the watching eyes of the moms, who were smiling at the two and remembering when they were like that years ago. Their feelings were so strong for each other, and everyone could see that, even if some didn't like it.

"Conrad, Amber, smile for a picture," Robin called out to them as she pulled out her camera, wanting to capture the moment and not ever let her daughter be able to forget the sweet moments in her life.

The two broke their eyes from each other and focused on the girl's mother. Their laughs fell short, but the smiles stayed on their faces. Robin had her long blonde hair in a high ponytail with a white visor hat over it and a bright smile on her face. She radiated happiness, despite all she'd been through.

They did as she said and leaned closer. She didn't waste a moment snapping the picture. However, when the camera made a click sound, Conrad's eyes were on the girl beside him. Robin checked the picture, and all she focused on was the fact that Conrad wasn't looking; he had a smile on his face, but he wasn't looking at the camera.

"Conrad, you weren't even looking at the camera," Robin told him, with a small, knowing smile on her face.

The sly grin on his lips grew even wider. He was already looking at Amber when she looked at him. "Sorry, something else caught my eye," he replied, still staring at Amber as he watched her face grow a tint pinker. And he knew it wasn't because of sunburn.

"You're an idiot," Amber muttered, looking away from him to hide the blush on her face.

Amber pushed the memory away from her mind. She felt warm tears going down her face. She was crying. How fucking unbelievable! Everything was reminding her of Conrad, how happy they used to be, and how her life was seemingly simple and enjoyable then. Now it was just miserable, and she hated it; nothing was as it used to be.

She felt helpless. She was just so fucking tired.

And for the next two or so hours, she let all of the bottled sadness and anger out again. She'd thought her sobfest the night before was all she needed. But she was wrong. From the memories of her parents and their divorce to Conrad and all of the pain he caused her, then from the people that claimed to be her family to her thoughts about herself—all of the ones that she had been hiding for years came flooding out in the form of tears. This amount of crying in less than forty-eight hours was most definitely not healthy.

The picture from that happy day was still in her hand as her trying-to-be-quiet sobs filled her room. She hoped no one could hear her, not that they would care, but she didn't want them to know that she was crying. She never wanted people to know what she was truly feeling because she didn't want their pity and sorrowful looks.

She didn't want any of it. She had gotten enough of that when her parents divorced.

━━━━━

It was later in the day, about noon, and Amber had finally stopped crying. She felt numb. She'd gotten everything out, finally; now nothing was left. She was still staring at the picture when she decided that it was time for her to put it away in a dark and dusty hole where it would never be seen again. Or, at least, she hoped it would never be seen again.

She got onto the floor and moved so that she was lying on her stomach, glad that the floors were clean so that her freshly-cleaned body and newly-picked clothes wouldn't get dirty. Then she started rummaging under her bed. And when her hand met the touch of a familiar box, she pulled it out from under the bed, then turned so that she was sitting again.

Leaning against her bed, she set the box on her lap and studied it. The pastel purpleness shined in her eyes. It was something she would rather forget, but alas, another memory invaded her mind, causing her to sigh.

"Conrad, stop; you're going to mess it up." Amber gave the boy a pointed look that was failing at being even the slightest bit effective. She swatted the boy's hand from the box, causing him to snort in amusement.

He gave her a flirtatious look as she playfully rolled her eyes, and then he focused back on the task at hand. "What is this thing again?" he inquired, resting his chin on his hand as he studied the box that she was painting a nice light shade of purple.

"It's a memory box, Connie," she reminded him, continuing to paint the topic they were on, not meeting his gaze that was burning her cheek. "It's where I'm going to put all of our memories."

"You're going to take our memories from our heads and put them in this purple box?" he sarcastically asked, a fake shocked look on his face.

"Haha, no," she faked laughter, sending him a sideways glance. "I'm going to take all of the physical things from our memories, like movie tickets, pictures, and such, and store them in this box so that they are safe and we can have them forever," she explained, smiling as she looked over at him.

"Forever, Rebel?" He raised his brows with a small smirk on his face.

"Yes, forever."

Forever was stupid.

Huffing, she had enough of the memories. Why were they suddenly coming back? It was so frustrating, and it made Amber want to scream. She didn't, of course; she just opened the box and put the picture in there before another memory could ever think of forming. That was where it belonged.

She sat there for another moment, contemplating where she wanted to keep the box. Did she want to put it back under the bed so that it could collect dust like it had for the past two years? Or did she want to find another, safer place for it? She didn't know which to choose. And she certainly didn't know why she was leaning toward the latter.

Getting up from the floor, she made her way over to her closet, flicking on the light. Looking around, she found the highest shelf she could reach and put the box on there, not wanting to give it any more thought than she already had. Then she left her closet and turned off the light.

She went over to her dresser next, pulling open a drawer a little harsher than she needed, and dug around for a bathing suit. Once she found the one that she wanted, she slammed the drawer shut. She knew if her brother was there to witness her attitude, he would say something about her having a stick up her ass, but she did not care.

If she wanted to be in a bad mood, she would.

Wasting not another second, she stripped from the clothes she had put on after her shower and slipped on her bathing suit—a black two-piece. Then she stormed out of her room, making sure not to slam the door behind her, and she made her way to the hall closet. She grabbed a towel, then went downstairs.

She hated life.

Conrad was sitting there at the counter, eating.

She let out a breath, trying to calm herself. It doesn't matter; he doesn't matter. She took another deep breath when the first one didn't work and placed a blank look on her face. She walked further into the kitchen, moved past him without even a side glance in his direction, and went to the fridge. Pulling on the handle, she opened the door, turning on the bright, white light on the inside. She could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored him as she looked around the fridge for a moment, then grabbed a water bottle.

"How's your face?" he asked.

Slowly, she turned around, giving him a bored look. "Fine," she answered shortly, closing the refrigerator door. Her towel fell into the bend of her arm, and she clutched the water bottle in her hand as she walked over to the counter.

His eyes tracked her tight and annoyed movements as she set her water down and rested her elbows on the cold surface, placing her chin in her hands.

Conrad continued to stare at her for a moment, and she stared back. His expression was blank to match hers. Then he gently lifted his hand, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Have you been crying?" His voice was so light, a twin to his touch, like he already knew the answer to his question.

She felt a chill go down her spine.

"No," she lied, scoffing. She ignored the feeling swirling in her gut and looked away from him, straightened her spine, and narrowed her eyes in denial. To distract herself from his not-leaving eyes, she grabbed her water bottle and began picking at the label around it.

He watched her closely as she did this. "I can tell that you have," he admitted.

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. "Then why did you ask?" she snarked, glancing up to meet his knowing look. Another breath left her mouth, and her eyes left his. "It doesn't matter," she dismissed, taking a step away from him. She took a straight shot towards the back door. "I'm fine," she added as he turned in his seat, keeping his gaze on her.

She wasn't fine, not by a long shot, but that wasn't his business.

What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Amber," he began, watching as she opened the door. Before he could say anymore, the sound of the door shutting sounded, and there was a pane of glass cased in wood in between them. And that was the end of their conversation.

Amber went down the three steps, coming to the side of the pool. The sun felt good on her skin as she looked up at the sky, squeezing her eyes shut. The breeze was calm, barely there, just enough to make it so that she wasn't sweating. She made her way over to one of the chairs, setting her towel and water bottle down.

Then, after a quick stretch, she dove into the pool. It was like muscle memory; she and Belly had done it the night before and many other nights before that. She'd done it during swim practice and at tournaments and meets when she was still on the swim team. It was one of her many second natures.

The water washed her skin like it was a sponge, and she felt at peace. She was in her favorite place once more, and this time, there was no one there to interrupt her silence.

Keeping her breath to herself and not letting any water in, Amber stayed under the surface. She didn't know how long it was, but it wasn't enough to send panic through her body quite yet. This was one of her second natures; she was used to it and had trained to do it. It wasn't something to be worried about.

She was fine here.

But a splash of water broke her peace, and a hand wrapping around her wrist pulled her above the surface, just like it had the night before. This time, however, it wasn't Belly who had interrupted her—it was Conrad.

With hard breaths, Amber focused on him with frustration and annoyance as he stared at her with worry. "Why did you do that?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, sounding irritated.

She could almost scoff at his tone. Why was he the annoyed one? He had no right to be annoyed. He had broken her peace and her routine—one of her second natures. "What do you mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him, not realizing how close they were.

"You were under the water for a long fucking time, Amber," he answered, his voice lower but his irritation growing twice the size.

"I'm fine, Conrad," she sassed, exaggerating his name. "I'm a swimmer, remember? I can hold my breath," she reminded him, placing her hand on the arm that he wasn't holding on her hip.

"Not even professionals stay under for that long," he retorted, giving her a pointed look.

She scoffed, giving the sky her frustration for a moment. He was unbelievable! Why did he care? She was fine. It wasn't that big of a deal. When she finally faced him again, that was when she realized how close they were—just barely over an inch. Her face fell flat as her breath hitched.

Her eyes danced around his, watching them intently as they fell to her lips, then quickly to her eyes. She wanted to push him away, tell him that she was fine, and that he needed not to worry. But she didn't at the same time. She stayed still, her sapphire eyes darting back and forth between his emerald ones, then, despite her better judgment, to his lips.

She remembered his lips. She remembered how soft they were. How it felt to kiss him, and how he could make her swoon and her face heat with just one peck on her lips. The memories she wanted so desperately to forget piled in her mind like a pack of dogs, and she wanted to cry or scream. Perhaps both at the same time.

"I thought it was just a summer thing," she muttered as she slightly moved closer to him. Her eyes were still on his, and she could feel the heat of his body even through his wet-to-the-bone clothes. It was almost intoxicating. "Isn't that what you said?"

Why did he still have such an effect on her?

"It's summer now," he replied in the same breathless tone, glancing down at her lips again.

Those words pegged at her heart, but still she couldn't seem to pull herself away. "It's summer now," she repeated his words, a little sadder and quieter than he had spoken them, looking down at his lips and moving closer to him.

She was so close—they were so close to each other. Just another few movements, and they would be kissing. His fast breathing fell on her face, and she was sure he felt the same from her. It was wrong; she shouldn't do it, but she wanted to. She shouldn't want to either.

They were so close.

"We're home!" Susannah's voice called out from the kitchen.

Amber's head whipped in the direction of the door, her eyes wide with shock. From what was about to happen, or almost being caught doing it? Both.

Now snapped out of the somewhat trance-like state she had been in, she quickly looked back at Conrad, who looked slightly disappointed as he stared at the door. She pushed him away from her with her hands on his shoulders. "Get off of me," she ordered with annoyance, swimming back and putting a few feet in between them.

She didn't wait any longer to swim to the edge of the pool and pull herself up and out of it, ready to get back to her room and not come out until dinner. Darting over to the chair in which her towel and water bottle were held, she grabbed them and then went up the three steps. Once she was inside, she caught the smiling faces of the two moms and Belly.

She offered them a tight-lipped smile, stopping in her tracks. The three looked her up and down curiously, seeing a rather startled Amber wearing nothing but a bathing suit with a towel and an unopened water bottle clutched at her chest. She looked as if she just got caught doing something she wasn't supposed to do.

Perhaps she did—almost did.

After a moment of being paused in place, the blonde booked it towards the stairs, ignoring the wandering looks from the three. But before she could get too far, Laurel called out her name, causing her to halt and turn around, giving the woman a questioning look.

It took Laurel a second to speak as she glanced between Belly, Susannah, and Amber. "I'm sorry for what I said last night." She offered the girl a sincere look. "I was upset about the whole thing, and I shouldn't have said what I said," she admitted.

Forgive and forget. "It's okay, Laurel," Amber assured, glancing between the woman and the window, where she could see Conrad ringing out his soaked shirt that was still on his body. "Truly," she added, giving her another small smile.

"Are you sure?" Laurel began but stopped as Amber raced up the stairs and Conrad walked through the open back door. "Oh, okay," she mumbled, focusing on the boy.

"Conrad, why are your clothes soaked?" Susannah asked, moving over to her son.

All he did in response was sigh and stare at the stairs. Amber wasn't there, and his hands fell to his sides, disappointed.

━━━━━

Sitting in her room after another thought-filled shower, re-dressed in her clothes from earlier, and finally relaxed, Amber played on her phone. It was one of her favorite games—water sorting, the game where the player had to sort the colored water into the correct tubes with the correct colors. It was so oddly fun, and it didn't help that it was one of the only games that worked on her school's busted Wi-Fi. But before she could even finish the level she was on, her door swung open, and in walked Jeremiah.

He placed his hands on his hips, giving her a look that read so easily what he was thinking. He watched her as she dropped the top of her phone so that it was flat and met his eyes. "Get up," he instructed, gesturing for her to stand.

"What? Why?" she asked, confused at his orders.

"Because you've been back for almost two full days, and all you've done is sulk in your room," he elaborated, moving towards the bed and taking a seat. "And I'm tired of it."

"I have not been sulking," she retorted with a scoff. She knew he was right; he knew he was right, but it didn't matter. If she wanted to sulk alone in her room all summer, she would. She went to lift her phone up so that she could continue her level, but he plucked it from her hands, pulling it out of her reach. "Hey! Give that back, Jere!" she ordered, moving to grab her phone.

He just pulled it further back, holding it high behind his head as he stood. "Not until you agree to walk the beach with me since the last time got interrupted," he told her, raising his brows. She really hated him sometimes. "Come on, Pearly. You know you love walking the beach, especially with yours truly," he added, sending her a bright smile that was almost as bright as his eyes with a gesture to himself.

Huffing, she rolled her eyes but got up from her bed nonetheless. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," she grumbled, grabbing her zip-up from the end of her bed. "Just give me my phone back." She reached up to grab her phone from his hands, but cursingly, she was too short to get it from his high hold.

He was giving her a look that was letting her know that he had won that battle, and then, finally, gave her phone back to her without another struggle. They left the room, not wasting another second, as he placed an arm around her shoulder, and she closed the door.

This was going to be a long summer.

━━━━━

━━━━ ella's speaking !
i wrote this in october but i only just edited it last night/early this morning- i seem to have a problem with doing that 😭

anyways, i really hope you enjoyed this chapter, specifically the memories- and there will be more [memories] to come in the future chapters don't worry!!

make sure to comment & vote 🕺🏻

kisses.

━━━━━━━━━ rebel sun,
© -LOSTGARDENS, dec 2023

word count: 6636    (re)written: 10.24.23    published: 12.3.23