𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝔂 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾

ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

Emberlyn padded quietly down the hallway, bare feet making no sound against the worn hardwood.

The muffled hum of fireworks carried from somewhere down the beach, each boom softened by the thick summer air drifting lazily in through the open windows.

The scent of saltwater clung to her skin, mingling with the faint tang of sunscreen that still lingered from earlier in the day.

Her fingers brushed against the cool chain at her throat. The silver pendant rested just above her collarbone, and she could still feel the ghost of Conrad's touch — the way his fingers had grazed the back of her neck when he clasped it there.

When she pushed open her bedroom door, she found Celina sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed, a halo of warm light pooling from the bedside lamp.

Her hair was piled into a messy bun, several strands falling loose to frame her face, and her pajama shorts were rumpled in the way that only came from an evening of tossing around restlessly.

"There you are," Celina said, setting her phone aside like it had just told her bad news. "I was starting to think you'd gotten kidnapped by fireworks or something."

Emberlyn shut the door with a slow grin, leaning back against it for a moment. "You're not gonna believe what just happened."

Celina's eyebrows shot up so fast Emberlyn swore she heard them. "Spill. Now."

Crossing the room, Emberlyn sat down beside her, the bed dipping under her weight. "I kissed Conrad."

Celina's mouth dropped open so fast it made Emberlyn bite back a laugh. "You—what?!" She shoved Emberlyn's shoulder. "No. You are not serious right now."

"I'm serious," Emberlyn said, tugging lightly at the chain so the pendant caught in the lamplight. "He gave me this."

Celina leaned in, her eyes narrowing in inspection. "A necklace? Oh my god. That's... okay, that's actually cute. Like disgustingly cute. Charlie could never"

" speaking of Charlie" Emberlyn smirked, glancing down at it. "Guess that means we're both without escorts now."

Celina flopped backward dramatically, limbs splaying like she'd just been told the world was ending. "Yup. Two beautiful, tragically single girls, walking into the ball like we own the place."

"I mean..." Emberlyn tilted her head. "Do boys even like dancing?"

Celina snorted. "Please. Most of them would rather wrestle, burp the alphabet, or set something on fire than take two steps in rhythm."

Emberlyn laughed, but the sound tugged something loose in her mind — a memory that tasted like saltwater and rainy afternoons.

SUMMER OF 2018

It had been one of those rare rainy days in Cousins, where the sky hung low and gray and the ocean was off-limits.

Everyone had migrated indoors, each claiming a corner of the house to stave off boredom.

The living room TV hummed softly with an old ballroom dance competition — glittery dresses twirling under chandeliers, dramatic music swelling with every spin.

Emberlyn, in mismatched socks and a braid already halfway undone, had been spinning across the hardwood in her own private performance, mimicking the couples on screen.

"Augie!" she called, pausing mid-twirl. "Come help me dance!"

Her older brother didn't even look up from the chessboard where he, Jeremiah, and Conrad were locked in silent combat. "No way. I'm winning."

"You're not winning," Jeremiah muttered without looking up, sliding his rook forward. "You're about to lose in three moves."

"I am not," August shot back, eyes narrowing.

Emberlyn groaned in exaggerated despair. "You guys are so boring." She turned her attention to Conrad. "What about you? Come on, I need a partner."

Conrad leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You really want me to dance with you?"

"Yes," she said firmly, stomping over to tug at his arm.

He glanced at the board, then at August. "I'm bailing on this game."

"Traitor," August muttered, though a grin betrayed him.

Conrad rose, stepping into the open space between the couch and coffee table. "Alright, Sunshine," he said — back when the nickname was still casual, unweighted. "Let's see what you've got."

She beamed, holding out her hand like the dancers on TV. "Hand here, other hand here. And you have to spin me at least twice."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with mock gravity, placing one hand lightly at her waist and the other in her palm.

Their first few steps were a disaster — mismatched timing, clumsy footwork, toes stepped on in mutual retaliation.

They laughed so hard they could barely stand upright. But then Conrad twirled her — once, twice — before leaning dramatically into a low dip that had her braid swinging.

Jeremiah clapped slowly from the couch. "Incredible. Truly, a performance for the ages."

August shook his head, chuckling. "You're both ridiculous."

Conrad pulled her back upright, still grinning. "Told you I could dance."

Celina was watching her with a knowing smirk. "You're thinking about something."

Emberlyn smiled faintly, tucking her legs beneath her. "Just remembering when things were... simpler."

Celina's expression softened. "Yeah. It used to be you and Conrad, Belly and August, me and Jere." Her voice dropped. "Now Jere's got his eyes on Belly."

Emberlyn turned her head toward her. "He's always seen you, Cee."

A small, wistful smile curved on Celina's lips. "Maybe. Just... not the way I want him to."

Outside, the fireworks kept blooming somewhere beyond the dunes, the soft booms carrying through the walls.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke — just lying there, side by side, with the sound of summer ebbing toward the quiet hours of night.