The sun hung high in the sky, warm and bright as it filtered through the window. I sat cross-legged on the floor of Lily's room, rifling through the mess of nail polish bottles she had spread out between us.

"Okay, I'm officially overwhelmed," I said, holding up two nearly identical shades of pink. "How do you own this many colors?"

Lily shrugged, lounging back on her bed with one leg tucked beneath her. "I have a problem. Plus, you can never have too many options."

I laughed, setting one of the bottles down and uncapping the other. "Fine. This one wins."

"Good choice. That's 'Strawberry Sunrise,' by the way."

I raised an eyebrow. "You name them?"

"I mean, the bottle did. But I can take credit if you want."

The afternoon stretched lazily ahead of us, filled with the kind of nothingness that felt almost sacred during summer. We'd decided to stay in today — no parties, no beach trips, no Noah hovering nearby. Just a quiet day with Lily, which I honestly didn't mind.

As I started painting my nails, Lily sat up, pulling her hair into a loose bun. "So... you and my brother, huh?" she said casually, like she wasn't dropping a grenade into the conversation.

I froze for half a second before continuing, keeping my focus strictly on the small brush in my hand. "Is this the part where you give me some kind of overprotective sister speech?"

"Pfft. No way. I think it's cute. Besides, Noah's been annoyingly moody for, like, a year. You're the first thing to make him tolerable again."

I smiled, feeling a small warmth spread through me. "Glad I could help."

Lily leaned forward, inspecting her reflection in the mirror across the room. "You know, I used to think he'd never date anyone seriously. Like, he'd flirt with girls sometimes, but it was never anything real. You're different though."

I glanced at her, curious. "How so?"

"I dunno. He actually talks about you when you're not around. Trust me, that never happens."

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the grin threatening to break free.

"Anyway," Lily continued, grabbing a bright red polish for herself, "just don't break his heart, or I'll have to stop pretending to like you."

I laughed. "Duly noted."

The conversation shifted after that, drifting into easier topics — school, random gossip, and a long debate about which beach snack was superior.

"Okay, serious question," Lily said, waving the nail polish brush dramatically in the air. "If you had to pick, would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or a hundred duck-sized horses?"

I nearly dropped the bottle. "What?"

"Answer carefully. This says a lot about you as a person."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to suppress a laugh. "A hundred duck-sized horses. They'd be kind of cute, right?"

Lily looked scandalized. "Wrong. Absolutely wrong. They'd swarm you like a pack of tiny terrors."

"But if the duck is huge, doesn't that make it more dangerous?"

"Nah, I'd just run. Ducks don't hold grudges."

"I feel like that's a wildly inaccurate statement."

By the time we finished our nails — hers cherry red and mine soft pink — the sun was beginning to set, spilling gold over the room.

"We should probably eat something," I said, standing and stretching.

Lily groaned, flopping dramatically onto her bed. "Ugh. Can't we just manifest food to show up?"

"Good luck with that. I'm making sandwiches."

"Fine," she said, trailing after me as we made our way to the kitchen.

There was something comforting about the simplicity of it all — the quiet, the laughter, the normalcy. It felt like a piece of summer I didn't want to let go of just yet.