It took a lot of time, determination, and concealer to cover up the two hickeys Dylan left on my neck and jaw last night. I even decided to wear a pink zip-up with my outfit today, just for the extra layer of protection.
"Good morning, Astrid," my mom says as I walk down the stairs. She stands in the kitchen, cooking up a big breakfast (her favorite meal of the day).
I sit at the island. "Good morning, Mom."
She sets a plate in front of me. Today, the meal consists of a breakfast burrito with a side of bacon and hash browns. "Little hot for a sweater today, don't you think?"
"Most likely." I shrug before taking a bite of my burrito. "But it goes with the rest of my outfit, so."
She chuckles, shaking her head. After she serves herself a plate, she circles around the island and takes a seat on the empty stool beside me.
"So," she begins. "How was the party?"
I scoop up a forkful of hash browns and shove them into my mouth. Through my peripheral vision, I can see my mom looking at me with curious eyes.
"It was good," I reply in between chews.
"Just good? Anything exciting happen?"
I shake my head slowly. "Very good?"
She smiles. "Good, that's good." She clears her throat and takes a bite of her burrito. "Did you drink?"
"No, Mom." I lie straight through my teeth, sighing as though underage drinking is the most absurd thing I've ever heard of, and definitely something I would never take part in.
"Good," she says. "Four more years to go."
"Three, technically," I retort, shoving another forkful of hash browns into my mouth once I see my mom's raise eyebrows. "Well, I'm turning eighteen in a few weeks, so... it's closer to three years."
She hums in suspicion. "How's Conrad doing?"
"Mom, he's good." I turn to her. "If you wanted to know if anything was happening when you walked out there last night, you could've just asked."
"Well, was there?"
I shake my head. "No, we were just talking."
Dad comes to the rescue, strolling into the kitchen with a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt. I swivel in my stool, standing up to wash my dish. He pours himself a cup of coffee, loading it up with two packets of Splenda and also a little bit of french vanilla liquid creamer.
"Shooting some hoops today, Dad?"
He points to the bacon by the stove, turning to face my mom. "Can I get one?"
She nods. "Go for it."
"To answer your question," he begins, grabbing a strip of bacon from the glass plate. "I'm forcing Jake to come to the park with me and the kids today. So if you're not busy, that's where we'll be for at least a few hours. Shooting some hoops."
"Okay." I nod. "Well, I'm gonna go to Susannah's for a little for some tea."
His eyebrows furrow. "You're having tea?"
I smile, wiggling my eyebrows. "Sure am."
"What kind of tea?"
"The juicy kind." I laugh, walking over to the front door. "See you guys in a bit!"
When I enter Susannah's, the house is eerily quiet. No one is in the kitchen, the living room, or by the pool. I slowly walk up the stairs, avoiding the steps I know creak. Opening the door to Belly's room, I sigh in relief once I spot thick brown hair splayed against the pillows.
YOU ARE READING
𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓 | conrad fisher
Lãng mạnAstrid Carrera has known the Fishers and the Conklins for a decade. Cousins Beach is her escape; it's her freedom. Every year, she looks forward to spending three months with her best friends. But there's a certain cloud over Astrid's head this sum...
