SOLSTICE, ACT ONE
006, MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IVE EVER SEEN

THE OCEAN IS CALM, legs wading in the trembling aftershock of the waves as I feel the water stick my hair to my scalp. I feel the salt of the water stick to my skin, the sun shining on my face as one of my hands lifts to hide my eyes from it.

Jeremiah's new job has meant that the fisher surfing time has diluted down to me and Conrad. Not that I mind, my younger brother's constant string of comments of my lack of surfing skills compared to them isn't missed fondly.

It's also nice that it's just the two of us. Jeremiah hasn't seemed to notice the change in our eldest brother since the spring, or that he doesn't seem to care as much as I do. Jeremiah lives in his own world, me and Conrad both knew that — he doesn't think about us as much as we do.

He wasn't the brother silently placing snacks on my desk at the late hours of the night when I skipped another meal for exam prep. He wasn't the one who would drive me to school so I could spend an extra twenty minutes reading over flashcards in the passenger seat.

Conrad cares because he's the oldest. Thinks he has some duty of care because we're younger. For both me and Jeremiah, but me a little bit more because I'm his little sister. I was the first he had to take care of, I didn't help, every scraped knee on the sidewalk as a kid I'd go to my big brother, and he'd sit me on the kitchen counter. Back at a time when my legs couldn't reach half way down the cabinets, he'd rummage through the cabinets on the counter on his knees in search for a band aid, he'd tap on the covered cut softly and hum 'look, all better.'

He's the sibling I'd go to late at night, when a nightmare struck, when I sobbed softly when mom had cancer. It was his arms that held me as I softly cried into his chest, or told me that he wouldn't let anything hurt me.

So I cared now, a little more than I did before. I noted the missing beer bottles in the fridge when dad was away in London. I noticed his glum expressions and absence despite being in the same house. How he broke up with his girlfriend but didn't even bat an eye, despite them being together for years.

" mom will kill you when she finds out you're not getting ready for the tea—" his voice is gruff, yet teeters on the usual concern.

He swims next to me, legs wading like mine. Board being pulled back with the soft lulls of the broken waves he had just surfed.

I shrug " what she doesn't know, won't kill her,"

A laugh leaves his lips, his head turning to look back to the beach " I think you forget that she has some sort of sixth sense..." he tells me, and I laugh too.

I follow his eyes, expecting to see our mom stumble down the beach with a hectic look in her eye as she calls out for me. I know I should head in, but I can't.

Skimming my eyes back to my brother who's watching me, sensing the slight turmoil in my thoughts,

" anyways, I'd much rather be out here with you." I tell him, and notice the softening of his features, only momentarily. Then whatever wall he's built around him, including for me stiffens and readjusts.

" then why are you doing it? the deb thing— she's been trying to get you to do it for years..." he asks, sweeping wet strands of hair from his face.

I shrug, steadying myself on the board " I don't know, it'll make her happy I guess and she deserves it after—"

I don't say it, I don't want to. Conrad knows what I mean. As he nods and bows his head as the anger resurfaces although subdued " yeah.."

It was only a couple of months ago. I had finished school except a few exams — Conrad offered to take me home before he headed to football practice. Before he quit doing that too.

Everything was fine, mom was visiting some friends from college out of town for the weekend — summoning our dad away from business to take care of us, although he of course made it sound more like a chore than anything else.

He didn't know that we would be back early, me and Conrad at least. So we stumbled through the door and I noticed a pair of red shoes by the door.

I didn't say anything, didn't really have time to. Before a girlish voice called out our dad's name.

" Adam!" thick British accent, laughter filling the home we were raised in. I look to Conrad whose eyes were already pinched, my brows furrowed as I step further into the entry hall of the house.

Looking to the steps, clothes littered the same steps we hurried down as kids on each and every Christmas. The wood that was wearing as the three of us grew, that creaked under our weight now.

I felt sick, noticing female clothes litter those steps — an unfamiliar perfume linger in the air of a home that always smelt like our mom. It was pungent, dark — like cherries and black orchid. Nothing like the sandal wood and florals that our mom wears.

I hear his voice, our dad. I hear him in the blurred buzz in my mind — but I knew it was him. I could tell his voice anywhere, it was the voice I grew up finding safety in.

When I was little, how I'd crawl to sit on his lap when he had spent the weekends in his home office. When he'd smooth my hair and talk me through whatever he was doing — words I didn't understand, I still don't now.

The voice who would creep into my room when I made myself stay awake when he was working late 'aren't you supposed to be asleep elsie bear?' he'd hum as he sat on the edge of the bed. Rubbing the pad of his thumb against my cheek as he kissed my forehead.

I don't know how long I'm stood there, how much of whatever conversation I hear until Conrad pulls me back. I don't fully phase back into reality until I'm sat back in the passenger seat of Conrad's car. I only realise I'm shaking when I feel the steadiness of his hand on my arm in my lap.

And I realised then, he was the only man in my life I could count on. That I could trust not to hurt me.

We didn't speak about it. Not to each other, not to Jeremiah. And definitely not to our mom. Who I remember hugging a little tighter when she came home Sunday afternoon.

It sat in the silence of every family dinner, when I moved my seat from next to my dad to beside Conrad who kept me as a barrier from him. How I'd stiffen when my dad would speak of his assistant, how Conrad would place a hand on my own to steady me. Breaking my waves of anger and betrayal into smaller ones, manageable ones.

My dad noticed, of course he did. How I didn't bat an eyelid when my dad came in to say goodbye as he went back to London. How I didn't call him every night like I use to, how I avoided him like some kind of illness when he came back.

How the gifts he always brought extended from something from the airport on his way back home, to jewellery and clothes. Trying to buy back a love and trust in me he didn't even know he'd broken.

It's a secret we kept, a silent vow. We knew it would kill our mom, who had encountered death a little too closely for us to like. So we only talked about it in moments like this, alone. Our whispers lost in the breeze of the coast as they're taken far away.

I exhale, shaking my head " I should head back in, get ready.." I say, Conrad nods.

" you're doing the right thing," he tells me, and even though I know I am, it feels a little better that he acknowledges it.

"BELLY WELLY'S GOT HER FIRST DATE." I squeeze her cheeks between my fingers as she laughs and revolts away from me,

Scoffing softly as she shakes her head " it's not my first date!" she defends as I send a small smile.

" it's the first one I'm getting you ready for." I hum, sitting in front of her on the bed as I pay the makeup brush against her cheekbones, lips pouring slightly " you're growing up to quick...I don't like it!"

Belly laughs " shut up, you're only couple years older!"

I watch her with a soft smile, applying light makeup to her face and slide some star shaped clips to hold her hair back.

" you nervous?" I hum.

She nods " extremely..." I already knew the answer as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt as I sit in front of her.

I smile softly, feeling the nostalgia of my own excitement to date — although when I remember exactly who I was excited to see, I push the feeling back down.

I put the makeup brush down and look at her " well, don't be—" I assure her "cam seems like the best guy to have your first date with.."

She nods as I continue " but if he's not...just call me and I'll come rescue you—" I lean in to kiss the temple of her head.

" thank you.." her voice shy, as when I pull away I hear her exhale "do I look pretty?" she asks.

That makes my lips curve into a bigger smile, lips pursed as I nod " like the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

She watches me, a real redness bruises her cheeks under the artificial blush I've applied. Soon I'm pulling her down the steps of the house, one hand holding hers as the other smoothed down the crinkles rising in my dress for the book party.

"...ok, and don't use tongue for your first kiss," I hear her revolt and whine a soft 'Elsie!' As I laugh " it just gets messy!"

The boys, sat on the couch turn around at that. Steven's eyes crinkle " why the hell are you giving belly kissing tips!"

I smile, placing my hands on her shoulders shaking them gently — she giggles " our little belly button has her first date tonight!" I announce.

Steven gasps softly, Jeremiah whoops as his hands clap. And Conrad, he's just staring at her. Almost, hurt? I can't read his expressions as well, face still stoic but something lingers in it this time.

" with who?" his voice a little brash, coughing to hide the roughness in it as he does so.

Belly looks to him, their gazes holding and her smile drops slightly "uh..cam-" she says, almost hesitating to tell him.

Conrad just nods, looking away and slumping further into his seat. I roll my eyes softly and luckily nobody notices.

There's a ping of belly's phone, looking at it briefly as she turns around " he's here.." a edge of nervousness in her voice as I smile,

" ok, have fun, be safe..." I tell her, lowering my voice to a whisper " and no tongue!"

She whines my name again as she begins to move away, standing at the door as she turns back "do I look ok?"

A question aimed towards me, except I don't get the chance to answer — the words 'beautiful bells' form on my tongue, but before I get the chance—

" yeah, you look good..." Conrad's gruff voice comes out, eyes fixed on her.

I watch, as her face falls. Whatever excitement she was feeling mere moments ago slips away with four words from my older brother. I don't like it, watching as the reminder of the last four years of being in love with him brushes over her face.

She just nods, smiling as she leaves. My eyes glancing to Conrad who is still watching the now empty space she just occupied.

I want to shake him, tell him to tell her he loves her or just let her go. But that's not a thought that passes just because I'm sick of belly being let down by him or because I want my brother to be happy.

It's because I've known the brutality of waiting around for someone who won't give themselves to you. And I won't force my best friend through the same fate I'm trying to unweave myself from.