004 you don't even live here
As I'm sure you're aware, getting escorted home by the police is frowned upon, especially by the stricter of parents. Fortunately enough for Beatrice, it was not her mother that she had been brought home to. It was Belly's.
In her opinion, Laurel Park was an extraordinary sort of a mother: a cool, semi laid back one. Miles less uptight than her own. In this particular moment, though, Laurel seemed far from amused.
"How could you guys be so irresponsible?" Laurel chided, disbelief hidden in the tone she had taken on.
"Mom," Steven spoke up, taking a handful of steps forward. "It wasn't a big deal. All right? Seriously, the cops were just trying to break up the bonfire."
"Not a big deal?!"
"Yes."
Laurel inhaled sharply. "I would say getting picked up by the cops for underaged drinking is a pretty big deal, Steven."
Steven went entirely silent for a moment, cautiously inhaling the air around him. He scoffed, "Were- were you guys smoking tonight?"
"What?" Laurel's eyebrows knit together, a mix of guilt and denial, the kind you have when you've just been caught red handed, was strewn across her face.
Beatrice bit her bottom lip slightly in a halfhearted attempt to restrain an inevitable smile. Is she really tryna gaslight us right now? And she's been smoking? Go, Laurel!
"Keep your voice down, Susannah's asleep on the couch," Laurel voiced defensively.
"Well, I wasn't yelling. Well, you- you- you were," Steven stuttered in awe at his mother.
"Just so you know, Laurel, I didn't drink at all tonight," Jeremiah chimed in. "I was the DD, I swear."
She ignored him, shaking her head before turning to Conrad. "You're the oldest. What the hell's gotten into you?"
After ridiculing Conrad, Laurel moved a bit to face Belly. "And you, when did you leave the house without telling anybody? And what in the world are you wearing?"
"It's Taylor's. And why am I the only one that's not allowed to go out?" Belly retorted defensively.
"It's not that you're not aloud, it's that you should have told us you were going!" Laurel snapped, folding her arms tensely against her chest. "How did you even get there?!"
"I walked," Belly shrugged, her eyes refusing stubbornly to meet Laurel's
"Jesus. You know better than to walk that far down the beach alone that late at night!"
"First off, I wasn't alone. I was with Bea, we walked there together," Belly disclosed, earning a nod of confirmation from the girl standing to Jeremiah's left. "Second off, can you please stop treating me like a little kid?"
"If you want to be treated like an adult, you need to act like one," Laurel hissed.
"Then maybe you guys should, too," Conrad spoke up for the first time since they had arrived home. And he had made a great point.
Each and every teenager paused to look at him for a moment, Laurel staring intently into his soul, it seemed. "What does that mean?"
Everyone looked down. Laurel didn't hesitate before picking up where she'd left off, "I hope you all realize, this night could've ended a lot differently if your family wasn't your family."
"We're sorry, Laur.." Jeremiah attempted to mend the conversation, maybe even, with some decency and hope, direct it from an argument and lecture.
"Just.." she screwed her eyes shut, her hand finding their way to rub her forehead. "Go to bed, guys."
Slowly but indefinitely, Steven, Belly, Jeremiah, Conrad and Bea all wandered back towards their bedrooms.
Laurel opened her mouth, beginning to say Bea, you don't even live here, someone needs to take you home, but decided against it almost immediately. She was beyond exhausted, and she could care less if Bea ended up staying over.
♱
"So," Jeremiah sighed as he and Bea entered his bedroom. "Do you want me to, like, take you home? Or you could just stay over, if you want.."
"Well, you are the designated driver, but, if you don't mind, I'd rather stay. I'm so tired, I think I could sleep on a bed of nails," Bea said quietly.
"Of course I don't mind. But, no beds of nails for you. You're sleeping in my bed," Jeremiah smiled, jumping up from where he sat at the end of the bed.
Bea shook her head. "Where will you sleep, then?"
"The floor," he shrugged, like he hadn't put much though to it, but he could've cared less.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jere, you're not sleeping on the floor of your own bedroom. I basically invited myself, I'm sleeping on the floor. That's that," Bea declared.
"The hell you are, B," Jeremiah chuckled. "You're the guest, and a lady. I'm not letting you sleep on the floor," he motioned to his bed.
Beatrice's eyes flickered from Jeremiah, the floor, his bed, and then back again. A moment of hesitation overtook her before she finally caved. "Alright. Fine, I suppose."
Jeremiah grabbed a couple of pillows and blankets to accompany him during his floor slumber. He made his floor bed look decently nice, which took the edge off of Bea's guilt.
Bea strolled towards the bed, folding herself into Jeremiah's navy blue comforter. In a nice sense, it smelled like him: of the sea, complimented briefly by the aura of aftershave and cinnamon.
She wanted so badly to say something to him, to hear his voice again. Don't be such a bother, Bea told herself, You've literally kicked the poor boy out of his own bed. He needs rest, let him have it.
"Goodnight, Jere," she whispered into the darkness.
There was a tiny pause, which Jeremiah used to take in the soft tones of her voice that he had missed hearing so much, before he responded. "Goodnight, Beatrice. See you in the morning."
Bea adjusted her sleeping position and clasped her brown eyes shut. That feeling—the one that urges you gently away from sleep, because you can't wait for the morning that was to follow—lingered delicately in her mind.
1011 words . . . 7 / 9 / 22
s a t u r d a y
atp i can make a chapter out of anything- this one was pretty short, but hopefully the next one will be noticeably longer :)
this concludes episode one! now, onto writing for 2: summer dress!! i'm excited ngl
have a great dawn or dusk <33