002 it's an iou
"No, Kat," Bea narrowed her eyes at her sister. "You're not going to the bonfire!"
"You're going, you hypocrite!"
"Yeah, Katherine. Of course I'm going. You? In your dreams. I'm sixteen years old, you're fourteen. Mom would soooo murder me," she sighed, creating a selection of dresses which she had laid gently on her bed. "Now, the least you could do after all of this pointless banter is help me select an outfit. Which one, Kat?"
Kat rolled her eyes, but still stepped forward to take a closer look at the dresses that Bea had chosen. The first one was banana yellow, decorated with a bunch of tiny roses. It laced in the top center with little pieces of string forming a floppy bow. The second option was a deeper, sunny yellow. It was extremely low cut and flowed freely at the bottom; complimented with little white flowers embroidered into the skirt portion. Kat didn't bother to carefully scan the other two dresses to the right.
"This one," she pointed to the second. "For sure."
"That's what I thought too," Bea smiled warmly. She paused for a moment, wandering freely in thought. "Do you think Mama will approve?"
Kat shrugged. "I don't think she's gonna mind. Don't change into it until after dinner, just to be safe. She might not be the biggest fan of how low cut that is."
Bea titled her head slightly, nodding. She swooped up the dresses and climbed onto the top bunk bed where she folded them all neatly, placing them in the corner of her bed.
"For the record," Kat said from under Bea's bunk bed. "Mama would kill you first if she knew you were going. I'd have time to make a run for it. How do you plan to pull that off, anyway?"
She froze. "Yeah.. about that, hahaha- I need you to cover for me, darling sibling."
Kat stood up abruptly. "No fucking way, Bea. Cover for your self."
"Don't be salty just cause you can't come," Bea chided. "I'd do the same for you if you needed me too."
Kat groaned. "Fine. But you owe me one."
Bea squealed, jumping up and down. "Yay! Thank you, Kat!" she enveloped Kat in a tight embrace. Once they pulled apart, Bea scrambled to grab a sticky note. She pulled a pencil out of her cardigan pocket and wrote, in that fancy cursive of hers, IOU.
She passed the note to Kat. "Here, it's an IOU. Lose the paper and I'm no longer in debt to you. Keep it and I'll do you one favor no matter what."
Kat opened her mouth to speak, but was cut of before she could begin. "Girls," Lindy shouted up the staircase. "Dinner's ready!"
♱
"So," Lindy smiled at Bea. "I stopped by the club yesterday and picked up this," she slid a white envelope towards her daughter.
"What is it?" Bea wondered aloud and she lifted it delicately from the table.
"It's a letter addressed to you in regards to becoming a debutante!"
"Where's Kat's?" Bea piped up as she and her sister made eye contact.
"Kat is too young, honey. I figured it'd be something you'd like to do, you're of age," Lindy's expression, Beatrice had noted, was so giddy, it was almost unusual. Seeing her mother, who tended to lean closer to placid composure, this excited instantly made Bea equally excited.
Bea had heard of the infamous Cousins Deb Ball, and the idea of being a Debutante wasn't exactly horrid to her. In fact, she was quite fond of the idea. "I'd love to! Thank you so much, Mama!" Bea gushed.
"Yay!" Lindy clapped her hands. "You know, when I was a teenager like you, I was a debutante. That's how I met your father."
Kat tensed at the mention of her father, Warren Cordova. It was nearing two years since the accident, and still, the subject of Warren was still raw. It took Kat every fiber in her being not to wince or shed a tear at the mention of his name. Sometimes, Kat couldn't help but think that Bea was cold hearted for not crumbling at Warren's mention. She wished that whatever secret Bea had stumbled upon, allowing her composure to stand strong, would one day be passed on to her.
Bea hadn't tensed, flinched or winced at the faint detail of Warren Cordova as he appeared in their conversation. How do you do it? Kat wondered, just as she had every other time. She vowed to ask one day.
What was not even remotely apparent to Kat was the weight that her fathers death had imposed upon Bea. She knew that it was harder for her mother, obviously, and that she and Bea were devastated. The jobs which were traditionally resigned to the father figure were tied with heavy string to her mother the moment Warren's heart ceased beating. Lindy had a lot on her plate, and Bea did whatever she could to lighten the load because she was the eldest.
It was different at the summer house, though. August, June and July were months of the freedom and lack of burden that they all desperately craved. Cousins was, and always would be, a safe haven.
♱
After dinner, Beatrice sat criss-cross applesauce in the center of her bunk bed. She delicately clutched her warn copy of To All The Boys I've Loved Before as she squealed.
"What's wrong with you?" Kat giggled from the doorway she was leaning against. Bea blinked for a second, still grinning. Kat's sudden entrance had startled her a bit.
"They kissed!" she fell back onto her comforter.
"Bea," Kat shook her head. "You knew they were going to kiss. You've read that thing just about a million times!"
"I know, and it's great every single freaking time! That's why it's my favorite book!" Bea exclaimed.
Kat smirked, walking farther into the room. "That's not the only reason and we both know it."
"I don't know what you're talking about.."
"First of all, you so do. Second of all, it's because Jeremiah Fisher gave it to you."
A few summers ago, when Bea was thirteen, she had spent an hour ranting to Jeremiah about how she couldn't find the next romance book she so desperately wanted to read at any bookstore in Cousins. A couple of days later, she entered she and Kat's bedroom, and on her silk pillow, tied with a tiny purple bow, was the book, To All The Boys I've Loved Before, that she had told him about. She picked it up and smiled as a soft blush crept across her cheeks. With Love, Jeremiah, the tag read.
"Yes, Katherine. Jeremiah Fisher gave this book to me, which may or may not contribute to it being my favorite. But I also love the plot and the author and the characters and romance novels," Bea responded defensively.
"Listen, Bea. You have two options here, and I'm sure you already know which one I like better. Your first option, which you know is my personal favorite, is to get over him. You said yourself that you don't think he likes you, how many times are you going to let this hurt you before you get over it and move on? Your second option, which, if I'm being honest, is totally the one you're going for, is to make your move. There is no in between," Kat lectured, her tone reflecting the annoyance that Jeremiah and Bea together supplied her.
"You're not my mom, Kat. You don't even have the slightest say. You are right, though. I'd go for option two. I can't go forever without talking to Jeremiah. I miss him," she smiled sadly.
"Okay, okay, don't get all sappy and gross on me or whatever. Now, go get ready. I wanna see how that dress looks on you."
1317 words . . . 6 / 24 / 22
f r i d a y
next chapter will have a lot going on ;) i'm so excited to write it! and, in case anyone wanted to see it, here's the dresses that bea laid out on her bed, the second is the one she chose :)
have a great dawn or dusk <33