❝𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃❞ - 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑.

𝟎𝟓: 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒

"BELLY?" Her mom called out as we began to abandon her car. Reluctantly, the two of us turned around to face Laurel. "I want you to know that if you decide you hate it, if the girls are mean, or even if the food is bad, you can text me."

"We'll be fine. Thank you so much, but I have Ms. Conklin here covered for the evening." I smiled and jokingly curtsied, feeling the thin fabric waft between my fingertips.

"Humor me?" She looked over at Belly, who was awkwardly shifting her weight between both feet. We both knew what her mom would say. "Use our code phrase, and I'll be right there."  As the words escaped from her lips, I felt a sort of emptiness within my chest. My mother had never been so gentle with me, I can barely remember the last time she had reassured me like Laurel did for Belly. "You remember it from when you were little, right?" She then added.

Belly groaned some semblance of what I could make out to be an exasperated, "Mom." 

In unison, the two spoke. "Lemon Jelly Belly." I couldn't help but grin at Laurel's enthusiastic tone. She truly was such a great mother.

"Have fun, girls." She smiled, and drove off down the perfectly-polished, country club parking lot.

I walked down the path with Belly. "How nervous are you? Scale from 1-10, be honest."

"11." She muttered, and we both laughed. "The girls seem so stuck up!" She managed through both of our laughter.

"Trust me, they are. Although, you won't have to worry about anyone picking on you." She cocked her head to the side, looking at me. "I sort of have a reputation for not taking bullshit from the debutantes." She just nodded her head and formed a light "ah," sound.

Jeremiah was out grabbing pool towels, when both Belly and I spotted him. "Jere!" Belly called out to him, red, lifeguard swim trunks on, and a whistle around his neck. His chest perfectly toned and tanned, his arm muscles flexing as he continues to grab more. "Jeremiah," she said more bluntly, as the two of us approach him.

"Oh, my God. Uh, Belly, Serena." He greeted, staring Belly and her outfit down. "Wow, I didn't even recognize you."

"Tell me the truth. Um, do I look like a fool?" She asks, playing with the fabric on her gloves.

I nod my head at Jeremiah before he responds. "You look perfect, Bells. Don't ask the one who can't be bothered to put a shirt on."

"Hey!" He unfolds one of the towels and hits me with it. "You...you look good, Belly." He smiles, eyes still glued to her outfit, which I can obviously tell he finds ridiculous. He quickly puts the folded towels down, draping the one he unfolded over it. "Here, um, let me walk you two over."

"Uh, are those pineapples?" He asks, looking down at her dress as we walk.

"Pineapples? These...these are flowers, have you ever seen flowers before?"

We walk into the Debutante, as Jeremiah rattles off names of cookies and other decadent treats they serve. "I still never thought I'd see the day where you'd be wearing a fascinator." He adds, smiling at her outfit.

"Oh, what, Jeremiah? Can't stand Ms. Conklin here looking like an absolutely gorgeous Calvin Klein model?" He laughed and Belly hid her smile.

"Serena," I hear my name called from across the room. I wave to Nicole as she stays seated at the table filled with other girls.

"Jeremiah," another quite demanding mannered voice approaches.

"Paige." He acknowledges her, as he's quite literally gritting his teeth together in the form of a smile.