**Eighteen and Still Figuring It Out**

I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, wincing at the awkward angles of my face. My brown hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, and my green eyes looked tired. I was eighteen in a few weeks, but I didn't feel grown. Not when I still flinched at my own reflection, still overthought every word, still hadn't really lived—especially when it came to guys. Growing up in a loud, rough family, I'd learned to blend into the background. My parents and siblings were all about sarcasm and insults, emotions covered in a thick layer of mocking humor. I was the quiet one, the "sensitive" one, always trying to avoid conflict. It was easier to just observe, to listen and watch, rather than risk being teased or belittled. My cousin Carter was the exact opposite. He was five years older, built like a wrecking ball, and had been doing construction since he was old enough to swing a hammer. He was the center of the noise, always loud, always boisterous, with a foul mouth and a messed-up sense of humor. His short temper snapped faster than a dry 2x4, but despite all that, he was protective in his own twisted way. He'd make fun of me constantly, call me names, but God help anyone else who tried it. He'd throw fists over someone stealing my fries, but never once tell me he was proud of me. I'd always kept my distance from Carter's world, happy to stay on the periphery of his loud, chaotic life. But lately, things had changed. Carter had brought home a new guy, Adrian, who was working on his construction crew. Adrian was twenty-one, cocky, sharp-tongued, and dangerous in a way that was quiet and magnetic. His tattoos and crooked grin made him look like trouble, and his dead-serious stare made it hard to breathe when it landed on me. At first, I tried to avoid him, but it was hard to ignore the way he worked alongside Carter, matching his dark humor insult for insult. Before long, Adrian was showing up at family BBQs, late-night bonfires, and even Carter's garage, shirtless, hands greasy, laughing like he belonged there. I'd caught myself watching him more and more, trying not to, but feeling everything. The way he looked at me too long when he thought no one noticed. The way his teasing sometimes hit different, softer, more deliberate. I was sure he didn't see me like that, though. Why would he? I was Carter's little cousin—off-limits, inexperienced, awkward. Just background noise. I turned away from the mirror, trying to shake off the thoughts. I had to focus on my own life, my own future. Not get tangled up in Carter's drama or, worse, Adrian's quiet, mysterious world. But as I walked out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel like I was already getting pulled in, like a thread on a sweater, slowly unraveling.