Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CONRAD

When Conrad had first thought of the summer in Cousins ahead, he’d accepted the fact that, no matter how much the sun shone, he wouldn’t be able to escape the perpetual storm that clouded his emotions. His mother was dying. He knew it. She knew it. She just didn’t know that he knew it. But he also knew that that’s how she wanted it. That she wanted to have a perfect, beautiful summer like every other summer in Cousins had been. He wanted to give that to her. Truly. But faking his emotions had gotten that much harder since May, as if every day was another weight added to his chest and it took everything in him to just lighten it any way he could. He just accepted that this is how his summer would be.

He forgot about Belly.

Well, that’s not exactly true. Conrad never really forgot about Belly-not when summer turned to autumn turned to winter turned to spring and back again. But when he came out of the house to greet the Conklins, she was there. She was different now. Her glasses and braces were gone now but there was something in her that radiated that hadn’t been there before. Or was he only just noticing it now?

She noticed him then and her nose crinkled into a familiar smile and Conrad swore he stopped breathing. For the first time in ages, he felt a smile on his face. It was brief, but it was there. It shocked Conrad. His mother was dying, and he was almost smiling? He’d already decided how his summer was going to go and here Belly was, changing it in only a couple seconds.

Get a hold of yourself, Conrad. It’s just Belly.  

“I liked you better with glasses.”

“Too bad. I like me better without them.” He tousled her hair, eliciting the exact eyeroll he’d predicted.

Again, he almost smiled.

That’s when Jere and Steven announced that it was time… for a Belly-Flop. She’d screeched when they announced it and instantly bolted. Conrad might not be in a great headspace at the moment, but who’s to go against tradition? There was no way she could escape them. It took less than a minute before the three were carrying her to the pool. Three more seconds and they’d dropped her in, and it really felt like all the other summers for a moment. So much so that he laughed.

Belly had a sour face when she popped up back to the surface. “Guys, I hurt my ankle.”

A twinge of guilt struck him as she swam towards the edge. He stuck out his hand, “Come on, okay I got you.”

He noticed her devilish grin two seconds too late, and with a hard yank, he was also splashing in the water.

“OoOoh, you’re dead!” He laughed, lunging at her and dunking her under the water with him.

He felt like under the water together, time slowed down for a minute. He wondered if this is what Belly had always felt when she was swimming laps in the pool. The slowness and quickness of an instance. Belly was holding his arms and him hers and their eyes met for a second. Belly broke it first, heading for the surface. They’d been so close. He followed her a split moment later. The whole thing happened in less than ten seconds.  

“Let go.” She said with confusing conviction, and immediately he did—swimming to the other side of the pool.

What was that? Conrad asked himself, taking a breath and pushing his wet hair out of his face.

When Belly was out of sight, it all came back. His mum. Her secret. The fact he couldn’t tell anyone. Conrad kicked himself for forgetting it for a moment. Then he pulled himself out of the water.

He didn’t really run into her alone again until later. He was sat by the pool, smoking a joint when she came out and dove in. Conrad always envied the way Belly could lose herself in swimming. She’d swim up and down the length of the pool, doing flip turns for so long without even taking a breath- not at all aware of her surroundings. Conrad used to worry that she’d drown, and he’d have to dive in after her, especially on her midnight swims that she thought no one noticed she took. But Conrad noticed. Sometimes, when he struggled to sleep, he’d look out of his window to see if she was down there. Most of the time she was. He’d count her laps like some others might count sheep.

She did a couple laps before she popped up to talk to him, seemingly remembering he was there.

Treading water, she took one look at the joint in his hand and scrunched her nose, “I thought you said smoking pot changes the way your brain processes information.”

“So does your cell phone.”

“You said marijuana messes with white matter. You said o-our brains are still developing and that…”

“God, do you memorize every single thing that I've ever said?”

“Get over yourself.” She scoffed, splashing water mildly in my direction. “I mean, Conrad, you're the one who said that-that smoking's dumb and that real athletes don't put shit in their bodies.”

“I said a lot of stuff, and I'm not an athlete anymore, so...” His mind drifted to football for a second- how much he loved to play and also how much his father loved him playing, which is exactly why he quit.

Her voice brought his attention back to her. “Well, I still think you should quit.”

“What'll you give me if I do?” The question hung in the air for a moment. He swallowed but he didn’t stop looking at her, so intensely for some reason. He wasn’t even sure why he said it, or how he wanted her to respond because this was Belly he was talking to. But there was something as he stared in her eyes.

“Nothing. I think you should quit for yourself.” Classic Belly.

“Hey, why are you considering this debutante thing?” He’d meant what he said at dinner, that it wasn’t her. “Don’t let my mum make you into her little doll because she never had a daughter.”

“I don’t mind, it’s not like I have anything else going on. Besides, sometimes I wish she was my mum.”

He couldn’t look at her as he took a drag and said, “You’re better off with Laurel. Trust me.”

“Why are you acting so different?” Belly’s eyes were scrutinising, not in an accusatory way that he’d heard from his father or his friends at school over the last couple of weeks but concerned. Worried. For him. It was too much.

“I’m not.”

“I know you.” Her eyes implored him. “I mean something’s going on. Just tell me…”

She had him. It’s not a secret he wanted to keep anyways. Belly would help, she always did. Maybe telling her would help clear up this weight on his chest, on his shoulders. He was looking into those caring, judgement free eyes and he knew he could tell her.

“Belly…”

Before he could say more, Jeremiah and Steven came out, reminding him it was time to go to the bonfire. The moment was over. When Belly asked if she could come to the bonfire as well, it was a chorus of no’s.

By the time they got to the party, Conrad was kicking himself. He nearly told her. He knew that his mum had this one unspoken wish for one last perfect summer, and he’d nearly ruined it by opening his goddamn mouth. And to Belly of all people.

His mother had always loved Belly. Ever since Laurel announced she was having a girl, his mum crooned over her. She always told the Fisher boys that this girl would be destined for one of them, and as Belly grew up, his mother only became more resolute in that belief. Conrad knew that his mother always longed for the summer. To see Laurel, to see Steven, but to see Belly most of all. She said she couldn’t explain it, the bond they had. Maybe it was like the one that he and Laurel had, this silent understanding. Except he doubted that, neither Belly nor his mother had been ones for silence. If anything, Conrad thought they laughed more together than anyone he’d ever met.

Conrad knew that telling Belly would break her. It would break his mother. So, why had he even considered it?

He was quick to open a beer when he got there. He’d been coping with the news the best he could, and it felt like the drinking helped. If you could even say that.

When he saw Nicole, he was resolute to push Belly and his mother’s illness from his mind. Neither of which actually went very far.

He was kissing Nicole, tasting the alcohol on her breath when sand flicked at them, and they broke away.

“Belly?” It was so odd to see her here, with these people. She’d fallen over, after pulling out of Steven’s grip apparently. A couple of partygoers laughed. Conrad could see her redden slightly, even in this light.

Belly took one look at Nicole and back to him. His stomach tightened but he didn’t know why.

“I thought you hated the Red Sox.”

“Who are you?” Asked Nicole.

“Who are you?” Belly fired back.

“Nicole. Conrad and I went to the deb ball together last summer.”

Belly just looked at him. “It was after you guys left to take Steven to look at colleges.” Conrad amended.

“I thought you said that deb balls are bullshit, and all debs are sheep.”

“I didn't...” But he had, hadn’t he? At dinner, trying to convince Belly out of it for some reason or another. But Conrad couldn’t face his hypocrisy right now, so instead he said, “You're such a brat.”

“Well, you're an asshоlе.”

And then Jeremiah was in to change the mood, as he always was, calming down both Belly and Steven. Conrad always appreciated the way Jere could turn a situation around.

Then they all dispersed again, and Conrad was left with his beer and Nicole, and they were kissing again, even despite the fact that is body was well aware that Belly was here.

When the guy took Conrad’s beer, it was just his last straw for the night. It didn’t even matter to Conrad, what was one beer? But he was looking for an outlet, he was looking for a fight. He knew that it’d hurt if he got punched, but at least it would hurt in a different way than how he was already hurting. A type of hurt that he could heal and mend and overcome. More importantly a hurt that he could recover from because he just couldn’t imagine recovering from the hurt that’s hiding around the corner.

Always in the wrong spot at the wrong time, Belly got elbowed in the face in a wind up meant for Conrad. Conrad watched her fall to the sand but couldn’t think fast enough to do anything. Beer, grief, and anger clouding his judgement. And then the police were coming to break up the bonfire and they were running, and Jere was forcing him in the backseat. Both the Fisher boys, watched on as Belly talked to some guy she’d met. Conrad was only half listening, he told himself.

Belly was saying to Jere something about the fact that Cam would give her a ride home. Cam Cameron. How dumb. Conrad was annoyed when Belly didn’t immediately hop in when Jere said she wasn’t going home with a stranger.

“Just get in.” He said.

She looked at him once and back to Cam and they finished their conversation. Nervously, Belly leaned in and kissed Cam. Conrad looked away and felt sick in his stomach and wondered if maybe he’d overdone it with the beer tonight.

She hopped in and Jere started the car, only to slam on the breaks and realise they were a man down.

“Watch Conrad. I’ll be right back.” Jeremiah announced to Belly.

They sat in the car silently. Conrad could tell without seeing her face that she was smiling, and on instinct he reached out and touched her hair. It was soft in his hands, as he imagined it would be.

“Your hair's like a little kid's, the way it's always so messy.” It was like the moment in the pool again. Both of them hung in suspense and Conrad was overwhelmed again by the need to tell her. To have someone who would understand his pain. No one could understand like Belly.

“Belly…”

And that’s when the cop knocked on the window.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Despite his hangover, Conrad was up early making his way to the beach.

Conrad loved being the first person to the beach. There was a peacefulness to it in the morning that couldn’t be achieved at other times of the day when the sun had fully risen, and people started filtering in. It might have been the seamlessness between the sea and the sky, or the soft lapping of waves. Maybe it was ironic how Conrad felt more grounded standing atop the loose sand than he ever did on solid ground.

He was sitting, watching the tide, and wondering if the beach would still bring him this same sense of calm once his mother passed and everything change, when she found him.

“Hi.” She took a seat next to him. He noted the grey sweatshirt she’d gotten from that guy the night before, “Last night was—"

 “Amazing.” “A shit show.” They said at the same time.

Oh Belly, the optimist.

Looking at the bruise forming on her face, he couldn’t help but say, “You know you're gonna have a black eye tomorrow, right?”

She didn’t even stop smiling when she replied, “It's already tomorrow.”

There was silence between them for a moment, just the sound of the waves. He was thinking about last night. That moment between him and Belly in the pool. Nearly telling her about his mum. Twice. Kissing Nicole.

“Hey, do you...? Do you remember anything that happened last night?” It was almost like she read his mind. Logically, he knew she couldn’t, but she was so in his head and out of it too, “I mean, you were pretty wasted.”

“I always remember everything when I drink.” It was the truth. He’d always thought of it as a blessing before. But now his mum had cancer and he could only dream about drinking himself into oblivion. He looked a Belly some more, he wondered what she thought of his response. He didn’t know why it matter, but he couldn’t find any deep meaning in the way she sort of shrugged and continued to look at the beach.

Conrad took the joint from out behind his ear and put it in his mouth, pulling out his lighter. The slight breeze made it difficult to light, even with his hand cover it.

She turned to him and said something he never expected.

“Let me have a puff.”

“No.”

“Mm-hmm.” It still wouldn’t light.

“No. No. Laurel would actually kill me.”

“Okay, fine. Then if I can't smoke, then you can't smoke.”

She was smiling at him, and he couldn’t help but smile back. A genuine one. “Same old Belly.”

If Belly didn’t change, how could anything else change? How could Belly be the same as last summer, but he was so different? He found comfort in that at least, in Belly and her sameness. Even as her differences started to pile up, she was Belly through and through.

“Hey, let's go pick up some of the good muffins before everybody else gets up.” He suggested.

But surely enough, she was off saying something about being off to see a whale and before he could even fully comprehend it, she was gone.

By the time she was back, Conrad was lying on the couch while Jeremiah blended a smoothie and also Conrad’s brains. He barely heard anything until his mother squealed in delight.

“Oh, my God! Belly is gonna be a debutante.”

Belly’s laugh chimed in, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Conrad was only half listening to the conversation. Belly? A debutante?

He’d been last year, with Nicole when her date dropped out. He couldn’t imagine Belly in a white gown, being presented and dancing in a crowd with some guy. He’d remember how they had danced together not so long, how they laughed at her sweaty hands and stumbling into him. At least it had been fun.

“Belly, are you sure you want to do this? It doesn't seem very you.”

That was his sensible Laurel, and he agreed, “It's not.”

“Conrad, could you please be a little more supportive?” Now, that was his mother. More supportive? How could Conrad be more supportive this summer? He was barely keeping it together and now he should also pretend that this isn’t a completely ridiculous idea. “Now, which one of you is gonna be Belly's escort to the ball?”

Conrad wouldn’t entertain it. “Not me. I went last year.”

“Yeah, and I swore off balls.” Jeremiah chimed in, resulting in a fit of laughter from Steven.

“Wow, guys. Stop fighting over me.” She laughed half-heartedly, her spoon clicking around in the bowl, “Um, I'm not going with either of you. I am going to find my own date.”

Who would Belly even go with? Cam Cameron? He didn’t even hear what Laurel said next.

“I'm going for a swim.” Conrad announced, already on his way out of the door. Maybe he’d take a page out of Belly’s book and do some laps.

He caught a glimpse of her before she left and he was right, it wasn’t Belly.

He didn’t recognise her at first when he’d looked out his window and saw her the pool. She was facing away from him. It was like looking at a painting, the way she was frozen in the moment. The wind wafted her hair slightly, the pink fascinator doing nothing to stop it. Her long blue dress fitted her well. It wasn’t cold but she was clutching at herself—Conrad could see the edge of her little gloves.

Something about this moment made Conrad wish it would last forever. So, it didn’t surprise him at all when immediately after thinking that, the spell broke and Belly was rushing all over the place in classic Belly fashion. It was comforting and disheartening at the same.

His fingers twitched to text Nicole. He opened his phone to do it, when he heard Belly shout a goodbye, even if the house was mostly empty. He put his phone back down on the windowsill. Nicole would be at the deb tea anyways.

Conrad knew he was neglecting Steven already and he knew he was likely to do much more of it as the summer went on. Maybe in the months long after that if Conrad let him be honest with himself. He wouldn’t. So, he gave in easily when Jere and Steven came knocking at his door, controllers in hand.

Steven and Jeremiah had been quick friends when they were children. They were like balls of energy colliding into each other and bouncing back at rapid pace. It was different with Conrad, as it always was. They’d look up to him, trusted him, and he only occasionally took advantage of that. Like the time, he’d convinced the boys that they’d had a crush on each other. They’d been so polite to each other, it was laughable. Conrad would tell one or both of them a compliment they’d say about the other-he didn’t even have to lie-and they would both walk around with their chest puffed out, both flattered that their best friend loved them. Jere even announced at dinner that Susannah may have picked the wrong Conklin to marry into the family before everyone realised that Conrad had been messing around.

They were good at this game; endless hours over multiple summers had paid off.

Belly’s voice came from behind them, “See you guys later.”

Jere did a double take and immediately abandoned the game, much to Steven’s upset.

“Damn Belly, you look hot.” Jere said, giving her a twirl. Conrad could only watch them. Belly in a cute little top and shorts. Her bruise was still blossoming on her face, but the small amounts of makeup she’d put on barely made it noticeable.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop flirting with my sister.” Steven scolded Jeremiah, his eyes barely ever leaving the game on the screen.

Belly retorted instead, “Shut up, Steven.”

“No, you shut up,” With a quick look to Belly, he added, “Well, you look good, though.”

“You driving with, or are you meeting us there?” Jere was looking at her up and down again.

“I'm not going to the book party. I'm going to the drive-in.”

Conrad turned then. “With who?”

She wasn’t even paying attention to him as her phone buzzed. He watched as she stopped to look in the mirror on her way out. She smiled. Conrad wished he could do the same.  

Steven elbowed his side “Dude, dude, focus. Come on.”

Jere had joked about crashing Belly’s date at the book party, and Conrad was surprised when he found himself convincing the others to actually do it. Maybe it was just the chardonnay that told him it was a good idea.

It was just like when Steven and Jere did it to him two summers ago. He’d been caught out kissing Kelsey Mannis, her lipstick had been smeared all over his face. He didn’t hear the end of it all summer. “Conrad Kissing Kelsey”, they’d sing.

Belly and Cam Cameron had nearly been about to kiss when their car screeched beside theirs. Conrad flexed his fingers. He could see her lean over and say something to him. Next thing, Cam was out of the car heading in one direction and Belly was out and heading the other. Towards them.

Steven and Jeremiah were making kissing noises and all the boys were laughing, even Conrad.

Belly was talking and she was mad. She was threatening to show us his Dramione fanfiction. That made Conrad snort. Conrad could see the tips of Steven’s ears redden. What self-respecting person would write fanfiction anyways?

Conrad stopped laughing as soon as she turned her serious gaze towards him. Her voice was quieter, but resolute, “Please leave.”

He couldn’t hold her gaze this time. “All right, let's go, guys.”

Steven turned to look at him. “Are you kidding me? You were the one who wanted to come, Conrad.”

But Steven put back the car in gear and drove away. Conrad watched through the rear-view mirror as Belly hopped back into the car.

She had barely entered the kitchen when Conrad, taking a sip from his beer, asked, “How was your hot date?”

“Excuse me?” She whirled on him, a bull at the entrance of a China shop, moments before a disaster.

“Okay, relax. We were just having a little fun.”

“You guys are assholes.”

“Belly, come on. All I wanted was to go to a drive-in with a guy that I think is-is cute and sweet, and... and you guys had to come and ruin it.”

“And us showing up, for, like, two minutes ruined that, really? Grow up, Belly.”

“Why couldn't you let me have this one thing? Huh? Admit it. You knew what you were doing.”

“What? What was I doing?”

“Reminding me that you existed.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” But did he? Conrad couldn’t even tell anymore.

“You cared where I was, who I was with.”

“No, I didn't. I don't care.”

“Stop lying!”

“Stop being such a baby!”

“Oh, and you're such an adult? You spent your Saturday night crashing my first date for fun.”

He said nothing. He hadn’t considered that—that it was her first ever date. He hadn’t considered what showing up would do, just that it seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Fine. Fine. Forget it.” She turned to leave, but still angry she threw over her shoulder, “Why don't you go smoke some more pot?”

“Why don't you go look in the mirror some more?” He replied before his brain could think it through.

That stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t turn to look at him at first. But he regretted saying it immediately. He begged himself to take it back, he was about to, but when she looked at him—with such disgust—the words dried up in his throat.

Conrad sat on his bed later, guitar sitting in his lap. He strummed it lightly, some tune he learned a couple years ago. He just kept thinking how he kept fucking up lately. He just couldn’t figure out the right thing to do. Everything he did left him with a pit in his stomach.

He wanted to talk to his mum. He wanted to talk to Laurel. He wanted to talk to Belly. Jeremiah. Steven. Everyone, anyone. Well, anyone except his dad, of course. At least he would never be as big a fuckup as him. He could be strong for his mum when she needed him. He could keep it from everyone else.

Conrad couldn’t stand what his dad did to his mum. How he made her so, so happy, so in love and then ripped that from her at a time she needed it the most. He could never imagine hurting someone he loved like that. That’s what made all of this so hard. Conrad didn’t know whether he should be pulling those he loved closer or pushing them away, at risk of being like him.

Outside, he heard a splash and Conrad smiled.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad had started thinking about what to get Belly for her birthday this year long before summer had started, and he’d found out about his mum. Sixteen. She’d be 16. Every time her thought about it, he’d feel this not necessarily uncomfortable twisting in his stomach and would feel the need to rub the back of his neck.

He needed a special gift for a special birthday. He remembered the gift that he received from Belly when he turned sixteen. It showed up unexpectedly on their doorstep in February in this big brown box, about a week before his birthday. He rubbed a hand over the spot she’d scrawled his name. From the looks of it, she’d been in a rush. Classic Belly.

Inside the package was one of those ships in a bottle. The box definitely didn’t need to be this big to fit it, but Conrad wondered how much it’d set her back— she was only 14, so he doubted she was earning any real cash yet.

Underneath, he found the little note she’d written.

“Happy birthday, Conrad. Saw this sailing boat and it reminded me of you and Cousins. I wish it could be summer all year long. Do you think you’ll compete in the regatta next year?”

He did. He came second.

The ship is still on his desk at home.

So, when it came to Belly’s present, he was stumped. He’d always spent a little longer at the mall after his friends, or his mum, even when it was just supposed to be a quick trip— just searching for something that felt right.

As spring started to transform into summer, Conrad started to get more nervous. He still hadn’t found anything. Everything seemed wrong. Out of pure luck, he managed to find some the day before they were leaving for Cousins.

An infinity necklace.

He’d almost walked past it in his hurry to find something. But it had glinted a certain way that caught his eye.

When he walked out with it, he was smiling.

Conrad didn’t make eye contact with Belly when she downstairs. He didn’t wish her a ‘happy birthday’ either. Like the coward he was, he stared into his cereal bowl.

He’d felt terrible about last night. What he’d done. What he’d said.

He was surprised when she turned down her birthday pancakes. She’d never done that before. He hoped it had nothing to do with what he said last night.

Way to fuck up some more, Conrad.

Instead, they went straight into presents.

Laurel had given her a first edition book with the poem that his mum had taught them as children. Belly started reading it out loud and we all finished it with her. He felt slightly comforted by that poem, whether he felt it was true or not.

Then his mum was giving her a pearl necklace that she’d gotten from his grandmother when she turned 16, and he took his gift out of his pocket and he looked at it in its black back. Suddenly the infinity necklace felt like it was too little and too much at the same time.  

While Jeremiah offered up his gift, Conrad was quick to hide it away again. It felt much heavier in his pocket than it did before.

Jeremiah gave her a lucky charm for her driver’s license. Even Steven got her something she’d liked.

Then everyone was looking at him. His mum saying, “Conrad, uh, do you want to give Belly your present?”

He couldn’t look at anyone, would his face give him away? “Sorry, I forgot.”

“Uh, that's... that's cool.” Her voice sounded a little flat, like she was pretending that it didn’t matter. “Um... I wasn't really expecting anything anyway, so...”

He couldn’t bare it. He had to get out of here. “Oh, so I got to go. Um, I promised Cleveland that I'd show him some knots today, so... Happy birthday, Belly.”

On his way out he heard Jeremiah say to her, “Hey. Why don't we take my car and practice driving before we have to pick up Taylor from the bus station?”

That would make her feel better at least. At least he could count on Jeremiah to cheer her up.

After the day with Cleveland, he called Nicole. She’d been text him on and off, wondering when they were going to hang out again. Conrad craved something simple, something uncomplicated. He truly felt like Nicole gave him that.

He was talking with Nicole as they turned the corner into the backyard. He heard Belly before he saw her. She was whooping in victory while Steven and Taylor argued. Then he saw her.

She wasn’t in a one piece like she usually was when she swam laps alone. She was in a purple bikini. On top of Jeremiah’s shoulders.

“Hey, guys.” Nicole shouted to get their attention, waving as she did so.

“Hey, Nicole.”

When she looked his way briefly, Conrad had to look away.

“Hi. Happy birthday, Belly. Are you guys playing chicken?”

“Um, yeah. It was, it was Taylor's idea.”

Conrad zoned out mildly as they made their brief awkward introduction between Nicole and Taylor and watched as Belly still remained on Jere’s shoulder. He noted his hands on her thigh. Her hands on his head.

What was he even thinking about?

Then Belly suggested they play a real game instead, and up went the pool volleyball net.

He and Nicole sat at the edge with their feet in the water while they watched the others play the game. Until Taylor’s served the ball right into the side of Nicole’s face.

Taylor apologised, saying it was an accident.

“Let me see it.” Conrad examined her face, it seemed fine, but he wanted to make sure. “Let's go inside. I'll get you some ice.”

Belly seemed genuinely concerned, apologising too. He didn’t know how to feel about that. The way that Belly seemed to care for Nicole. Or just care about people in general. “I'm so, so sorry again, Nicole. Feel better, okay?”

Nicole nodded in thanks.

“Come on, Belly. Conrad-” He slowed and turned at the sound of his name “-can take care of Nicole. Let's go inside and look at ourselves in the mirror some more.”

Conrad swallowed. Belly told Taylor about what he said last night. And Taylor knew it was shitty enough to throw it back in his face. “Yeah, have fun with that.”

Alone with Nicole, in his room. It would be any guy’s dream. She was stunning. “Does it hurt?”

“Conrad, I told you I was fine.”

“I know. I just... care.”

Nicole laughed in response, “Well, thank you for taking care of me.”

“Any time.”

She leaned in to kiss him, but his phone started ringing.

“Sorry.” Checking his phone, he realised the time. That he was supposed to meeting with Cleveland and helping him prep for his interview. “Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Um, I'm sorry, I got to, I got to go. Uh... Okay. I'm late.”

He’d missed it. Got there just in time to watch the interview start. Conrad couldn’t help but think he was letting everyone down this summer, even himself.

He was shucking the corn for dinner when Laurel stood over him.

“'Sup, Laurel?”

“I just wanted to check in with you.”

“Okay.”

“How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“‘Fine.’” Her tone was mocking. “We used to talk.”

“We still talk.”

“Barely. You're still my special guy, you know. You're the first baby. You can talk to me about anything.”

“Thank you.” He meant it. But things weren’t the same as they were when he was 10, they weren’t even the same as they were last summer.

“You know... you don't have to hold everything in all the time. You don't always have to be strong.”

“I know. I'm just...” For a moment, he thought about opening up. It was his Laurel. He knew she knew. Her and his mum were soulmates and soulmates didn’t keep secrets like this from one another. He could imagine the weight lifting off his chest by letting her carry some of his burden. But before he could do any of that, she continued to speak.

“It's been a while since I was your age, but I still remember what it was like to have my heart broken. Losing your first love, it hurts, and it takes time to get over it.”

“Aubrey, yeah.” The moment was over. He couldn’t say it now, so he just went along with it as if Aubrey could even compare to the woman—women—currently breaking his heart. “Yeah, yeah, no. That was brutal.”

She rubbed his shoulders, but the weight of the world never left them.

Cam Cameron came over for Belly’s birthday dinner.

Jeremiah and the lot were causing all sorts of trouble, interrogating Cam over his vegetarian status.

So, you let her kiss you with those lips?”

“Guys.” Belly sounded like she wanted to die as the Jere and Steven laughed. “Stop.”

Cam was good natured about it though, “No, I don't judge people for eating meat. It's just, like, a personal choice. I don't care.”

Never one to leave it alone, Jere asked, “So you don't mind if, uh, like, her lips touch a dead animal, and then those dead animal lips touch your lips, right?” That earned him from a kick under the table from Belly. “Ow.”

“I don't mind at all. Um, in fact...” Cam leaned over and gave Belly a quick peck on the lips.

Conrad sat silently, chewing his food, except now it felt all ashy in his mouth, especially as the mums awed over it.

As the boys started fake retching, Conrad couldn’t help but glance up from his plate at her. Just for a millisecond.

The Laurel was interjecting, “All right. All right, all right. Belly's allowed to kiss, but that's it.”

She laughed like that was the funniest joke she ever made.

And then the conversation moved on, Steven and Jere still giving her shit and Taylor coming to her rescue, reminding them all that they did some stupid things not so long ago.

Eventually, Belly said, “You know, um, I'm thinking maybe we should go to Nicole's party.”

Conrad had no idea how to feel about that.

Belly, Cam, and Taylor arrived at the party later than they did. Nicole even set up a cake table for her.

He didn’t know how he felt about how close they sort of were. He figured he should like it. He liked Nicole and Belly’s opinion mattered to him. It should make him happy that they liked each other. It should…

Conrad was making conversation with some guys at the party when he caught Belly’s eye from across the room as he took a sip of his beer.

Time felt slow. The moment infinite, like the necklace he refused to give her. His stomach tightened. It was too much, and she hadn’t broken eye contact. So, he did, moving out of eye line completely.

Conrad couldn’t understand what was going on. Why did Belly always have to make him feel so mixed up in the gut? Like he’d drunk a whole carton of beer by himself and then got rolled over by a wave. Out of control. That’s how Belly made him feel.

Jeremiah was the one that convinced them to play beer pong. Him and Cam versus Conrad and another guy.

“Wait, Cam, have you started the waltz lessons yet? Ms. Covington's a real sadist.” Conrad asked, lining up his next shot.

Cam looked confused. “Who you are talking about?”

“The-the dance teacher. For the ball.” Suddenly unsure of himself.

“Oh. Yeah. Belly hasn't really asked me yet.”

Conrad felt like he’d stuck his foot in it a little and felt bad for Cam. But he also couldn’t help but feel a light, hopeful flutter in his chest.

“Oh, dude, I'm sure she will.”

Then, just like that, she was there. She wasn’t talking to him though.

Jeremiah hugged her and she was asking if Cam was drinking.

“Um, hey, can we leave? Like, now?”

“Yeah, um, yeah. Sure, that's cool. Oh. Uh, I'll see you later.”

Conrad felt that hopeful flutter blink out. She was leaving with Cam. She was probably going to ask him to the ball. And Conrad hated it.

Jeremiah, who’s attention was hard to keep, had already moved on. “Two v. one, all right?”

Conrad stayed at Nicole’s that night.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Despite the summer he’d been having, Conrad couldn’t help but look forward to the Fourth of July. It was his mother’s favourite holidays, and she really did go all out for it. She radiated this kind of energy that was so vibrant that Conrad could almost forget that she was sick, that she was dying.

The whole house was vibrating with that kind of raw, nervous, excitable energy that Conrad couldn’t help but get caught up in it as well.

Walking through the kitchen, Jere was sipping up the leftovers of Belly’s cereal milk.

“Yo, I'm gonna go wash the clams. Did you get the lighter fluid?” Only slowing enough for Jere to reply.

“Mm.” Wiping off the milk from his upper lip, he answered, “Yeah, it's already on the beach.”

Conrad whistled in acknowledgement and walked out the door to go get the clams.

When he came in, buckets of clams at his side, he caught the tail-end of his mum’s comment to Jere.

“Oh, speaking of dads, yours called. He's closing a deal, so he can't come.”

“What?” Conrad could hear the shock and disappointment in his voice, but Conrad couldn’t help but feel a warm, comforting sensation start in his chest.

“Did you say Dad's not coming?” He asked, trying to sound blasé, dumping the clams in the sink.

“Mm-hmm.” Susannah continued to eat the little snacks she’d had put out for the day.

Jere wasn’t done. “But I got some serious fireworks for the show this year.”

“We'll take a video.”

“It's not the same.” Jere just shook his head.

“I know.” Susannah conceded.

Despite his brother’s disappointment, Conrad felt a renewed sense of excitement. Conrad leaned against the kitchen counter. His dad coming home was the one thing he’d been dreading about today, the one gloomy cloud that was threatening an otherwise beautiful day.

Conrad’s face must have given away his delight, as Jeremiah tilted his chin in Conrad’s direction. “What're you smiling over there for?”

That only made him smile some more. “No reason.”

Conrad felt better than he had in a while.

Following the noise coming from the guest room, Conrad found Belly making up the bed for her dad and his girlfriend. Or more like attempting to make the bed. Conrad leaned against the wall.

She didn’t even notice him at first in her frustration with the bedsheets. Conrad was able to take a moment, to lean against the wall and just watch. Watch her. He felt that warm sensation in his chest from early expand further across his chest.

In that moment, Conrad felt light. He felt happy. It felt like it had always felt before everything had changed, before everything went to shit. He knew Belly was a part of that. Watching her in her frustration of something so simple brought Conrad just a little bit of peace. There she was- his girl. Well, Belly was all of theirs. Laurel’s and Steven’s and his mum’s and Jeremiah’s. But his as well.

Conrad felt another genuine smile spread across his face. In good conscience, he couldn’t let this monstrosity go on any further without says something. You got to fold the bottom sheet at a 45 degree angle if you want tight corners.”

Belly looked up at him, a little smile on her lips as she started to follow his advice. Immediately, he said “Yeah, not like that.”

She laughed, throwing up her hands, “Then help me.”

He walked over, grabbing the sheet. “You got to pull this down.”

“Okay.”

“Like this. Come here.” He got on his knees to show her. Happy his hands were doing meaningful work as she was kneeled slightly across from him, watching as he showed her.

He looked up at her. “See?”

“Thank you.” Her smile faded and her face turned thoughtful. “Don't you think it's weird that my dad is staying here with Victoria?”

He couldn’t resist the opportunity. “Well, I'm sure they're not gonna have loud sеx.”

That thoughtful look evaporated from her face, replaced with disgust, like she might gag. “That's foul. Ugh. And why is my mom letting him bring his bitchy girlfriend anyway?”

“Hey. How do you know she's bitchy? What if she's, like... a really nice person or something?”

They both laughed, but she countered anyways “Uh, what if... uh, and-and, like, just hear me out... she's a bitch.”

Her smile was so cute, he couldn’t take it anymore, he threw a pillow at her face. Which only resulted in a fit of cute giggles from her end.

“Stop. It's gonna to be fine, okay?” He added, “Don't worry about it.”

The honk from a car downstairs announced someone’s arrival.

“I'm sorry your dad's not coming.” She added, as she made final adjustments to the bed.

“Don't be. I'm not.” And he wasn’t.

Laurels voice rang out then, calling Belly’s name. Belly’s face was neutral, if not nervous.

Conrad looked back at her and whispered, “The bitch is here.”

All the kids watched on from the windows near the entrance as Belly’s and Steven’s dad rocked up with his new girlfriend.

Belly peered over the door anxiously, on the tips of her toes. Him and Jeremiah looked out the side windows, and Steven looked on from behind, at a distance.

“She's hot.” Conrad would expect Jeremiah to say something like that.

You could almost hear the eyeroll in Steven’s voice. “Dude.”

Jere shrugged like he’d done nothing wrong. “What? I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

Belly’s voice was barely louder than a mumble. “I wasn't thinking that.”

“Yo, that could be their future stepmom.” Conrad’s voice was thoughtful but also comical. The idea seemed so obscene.

A hard hand pushed him from behind. Steven. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Don't push me.” Conrad turned to return the favour. He and Steven getting into a mild slap fight like they had so often done when they were kids.

“Guys, they're coming, they're coming. Ah!” Jere came pushing and ushering him out of the way.

“Go, go, go, go, go.” Steven encouraged as he and Bells tried to make themselves presentable.

Nicole and the other debs arrived around the back. He and Jere greeted them.

He was quick to get Nicole in the pool. They were floating close, in each other’s orbits.

“I can't stop smelling you.” It was true. Nicole smelled good—different to the way Belly smelled. Nicole had this more crafted scent, for lack of a better descriptor. You could definitely tell that it was perfume in that way, like it was an extension of Nicole, an accessory. Belly on the other hand, had always smelled of ivory soap, coconuts, and sugar, but in the kind of way that it was a part of her.

Nicole laughed in response. “Okay, well, it's Le Labo.”

“Mmm. Well, I "le lab" it.” The giddiness of the day was getting to him. He knew it was a cheesy thing to say and sad, moody Conrad from every other day of this summer would have probably puked. But today, he couldn’t help it.

“You "le lab" it?”

They both laughed then. It could be so easy with Nicole.

A little while later, he walked in on Jere and Belly in the kitchen, clearly up to something. It was not surprising. The two of them together was chaos combined.

“What are you guys making?” He noted the red mix in the blender, various ingredients covering the counter.

“Pomegranate margaritas, but with a twist.” Belly replied, showing the extra Kool-aid she had in her hands. It was just like Belly to make something sweet, even sweeter.

But Conrad was on board. Smiling, moving passed her, Conrad reached into the cupboard, grabbing the machine that was on a high shelf. A shelf that they used to not be able to reach. How times had changed. “Well, you got to use the good blender.”

Jere jokingly flinched at the sight of the machine. “Oh, I-I haven't used that thing since the great Kool-Aid debacle of 2011.” ( laughs )

“I remember, the counters were sticky for... two summers?” Conrad

“Yeah. Just about. Dad kept his, uh, briefcase in my room for a year. "As a reminder that all mistakes are not reversible.””

“Wait, won't he be mad if he finds out?”

“Well, he's not gonna find out. He's not coming.” Conrad finished plugging in the blender and smiled conspiratorially at Belly.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah.” She said, finally giving in.

Jere passed Conrad ingredients from where he sat across the counter. “Thank you, sir.”

“Oh, she's going for the good stuff.” Jere commented as Belly reached for the tequila.

Belly only went to put in a dash of tequila, but Conrad held the other end and they played tug of war for control. “Stop it, stop. No, stop.” She was laughing though.

Jere egged him on, “A lot more, a lot more tequila.”

Finally, Conrad decided that half the bottle was enough and put it down, starting to blend it all together.  

“Man, you know what I miss? Huh? Watching Laurel put Dad in his place. You know, she'd walk in, she'd be like, "Adam."”

As if he’d summoned him, Laurel called out “Adam. You came. Happy Fourth.”

And his father was there.

“Dad!” Jere was up and out of his seat, already embracing his father. “You came.”

“Hey. Hey, guys.” His dad greeted everyone in the room, but Conrad didn’t look his way. “Hey, Connie. I'll have a little of what you're mixing up there.”

Conrad wasn’t listening anymore. He knew the others were talking but Conrad just felt a whooshing in his ears. He felt that storm cloud quickly reapproaching, sapping the sunlight of his previously perfect day. What happened to being too busy at the bank? Conrad just couldn’t tolerate the slimy feeling that he now felt for his father where only pride and admiration had existed for him prior. A slick, inky feeling that settled around his stomach and made left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Hey, Connie, can I talk to you for a minute?” That was his dad, catching his attention.

He wouldn’t spend a single minute more with his dad than he absolutely had to. “I'm gonna head to the beach.”

He walked all the way down to where the girls had set up the seats and settled down next to Nicole, she touched his hand and he tried to ignore the unsettling feeling that his father had caused.

When Belly came down with glasses after glasses of “The Belly Special” and suggested a drinking game, Conrad was all too willing to partake.

Everyone was having a good time—him and Belly the most it seemed. At one point, he and Jere separated from the group to throw a football around. But his dad even tried to ruin that. So, when he intercepted Conrad’s catch, he quickly made an excuse to get away.

Jere found him on the beach, digging the clam pit. By the way he was walking up to Conrad, he knew that Jeremiah was mad at him.

“Hey. Can you be nice to Dad for one day?” He stopped in front of him. “Seriously, he's trying.”

Conrad couldn’t care less if he was trying. “Good for him.”

That response earned him a pile of dirt thrown at his chest which stuck to the sweat that had accumulated while he’d been digging.

“Whatever you have with Dad, squash it, all right?” He looked at Conrad seriously, and Conrad remembered how he’d always tried to what was right by Jere. So, he was on the verge of giving in when Jere said, “Please.”

Jeremiah disappeared and he sighed. He could try. At least for Jere. At least for his mum. At least for today.

He pondered this while he finished digging the pit and he pondered it while he walked back up to the house to clean himself up.

Out of nowhere, he heard, “Hello, sea creature!”

He turned to see Belly laughing and waving at him. He gave her a quick wave but continued to the shower.

He’d not long turned on the outdoor shower and got it to a good temperature before he heard footsteps coming his way.

“Oooh, sea creature. Where are you?”

“Uh, I'm in the shower.”

She appeared in front of him then, smiling, and drunk with a margarita in each hand. “Everybody left. But we still got margaritas to drink.”

“Okay, well, I can't drink it in the shower. Can you just put it down and I'll get it after? Can I shower?”

“I've always liked you with wet hair. It's so... romantic.”

“What's so romantic about wet hair?”

She stared at him and then just sighed loudly, shaking her head like he’d fundamentally missed the point, “You just don't get it.”

Conrad watched her take a sip from her drink, biting back a smile, he asked, “How many of those have you had?

“Two, five. It's...  It's not important. Let me just ask you one thing, okay? Did you buy me that infinity necklace for my birthday?”

Conrad couldn’t speak. He didn’t even know how she knew about it. It was in a draw in his room. So, he just stared at her instead, his mouth gaping just a little bit.

Her smile took up her whole face. “I knew it. I knew I was right.”

He suddenly felt so vulnerable standing there, with his wet hair and his gi- Belly looking at him.

“Can I please... Can you give me some privacy, please?” His voice went a little funny when he responded, and he had to turn away from her.

“I knew it. I knew it!” She giggled and then she was gone, margaritas in hand.

Not long after that, Belly had tripped and fell on his mother while she was carrying the cake. So, Conrad and the other boys were enlisted for clean-up duty.

Steven and Jere were doing a terrible job, so he sent them off to go do the fireworks instead.

Then his dad was out and trying to light a cigarette and Conrad couldn’t help but think on the early conversation with Jeremiah. He could try. He could try for them.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Oh. Hey. Did you get everything cleaned up?”

“Yeah, and Belly's upstairs with her dad.” He was worried about Belly. He hadn’t had a chance to go check up on her yet, since he was down here cleaning.

“Why'd you let her get so drunk? You're lucky she and your mom didn't get hurt.”

“I didn't know she was drinking that much.” Seemed like it wasn’t two and maybe was more like five, like she’d said at the shower.

“You're the oldest. You're supposed to look out for the younger kids.”

Conrad shook his head. “I don't know why, but I thought I could talk to you.

“Hey, hold... Connie, hold on. I'm sorry, man. I got a lot going on right now.”

“Just leave, Dad.” Everything would be alright again if he left. At least for today.

Conrad was staring off into the distance on the pier, thinking about the day’s events.  Thinking about Nicole, his mum, his dad, and Belly of course. He was barely paying attention as the fireworks burst in the sky in front of him.

Like always, she seemed to appear out of his imagination. Like when he thought about her long enough, she’d appear. Maybe he was reading too much into it— they do live in the same house after all, maybe it’s more of a statistical probability.

“So... does everyone hate me now?” Her voice was quiet. Conrad knew it was because she was afraid of the answer to her own question. All the confidence of alcohol now gone, Belly seemed shy, regretful.

He looked at her. “Who could ever hate you?”

She let out a little laugh. “So, I think my mom just got railed.”

Whatever he had been expecting her to say next, that was not it. “What?! By who?”

“I don't know.” She laughed again.

“Wow. Go, Laurel.” Laurel deserved some action after the divorce.

Belly laughed and there was a moment of quiet between them. Conrad felt itchy under his skin. Belly knew about the necklace and he felt like he had to say something, he just didn’t know what he wanted to say but he knew he needed to say something. “Belly, about the necklace...”

“Um, I'm sorry I brought it up.” She was quit to interrupt him, to start to dismiss it but Conrad found himself wanting to talk about it, to have this moment with her.

“No, no. I, um... I did get it for you.” They were looking into each other’s eyes. Conrad couldn’t keep doing it for long, but even when he looked away, he was quick to look back.

“Then why didn't you give it to me?”

“I don't know.” He looked away from her then. “I got embarrassed, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Belly, you don't know the effect you have on people.”

And that was the rub of it. Conrad had to admit to himself what it all meant. The necklace. The tabs he kept on her. The jealousy. Conrad didn’t want to feel this way about Belly—Belly—of all people, but he did. She had an effect on him. If he was being honest, she always had. He'd felt the same way when he taught her to dance, or when he saved her at the beach. He just hadn't understood what it all meant. He hadn't understood what it meant until Belly hopped out of the car this summer. He could no longer dismiss her as this little kid, because she wasn't anymore. This realisation couldn't come at a worst time either, with his mood swings and holding it in about his mum. 

But right this moment, he didn't care about anything else. It was just him and Belly, looking at each other.

“Effect on people? I don't... I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yeah…You do.”

And then it was like Conrad was stuck in her orbit, pulled in by her gravity. He was staring into her dark brown eyes, and she was staring back, and the air just felt charged. Nothing could compare, not even the fireworks lighting up the sky.

He was leaning in then. He wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him. They both knew it. Inch by inch, achingly slow, they moved towards each other.

Conrad could only think of her lips, so close he could feel her breath and it made him shudder. He wanted this, more than he’d realised he wanted anything else.

But just as they were a hair away from kissing, a firework streamed right passed them, causing them to spring a part.

Neither of them said anything. He could feel her looking at him, waiting, but now he was unsure of himself. When she turned away, he looked back at her.

Say something. Do something. Kiss her. Run. Conrad’s thoughts were going a mile a minute.

But neither of them said anything.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

When Conrad woke up the next day, the first thing he thought about was fireworks. Not the fireworks that burst in the sky last night, not even the fireworks that rushed past him and Belly, interrupting them. No, Conrad thought of the ones in his stomach, in his chest. Conrad thought of the feeling. He knew it was because of Belly, because of what nearly happened.

It was almost an odd sensation, like his whole life he’d been unknowingly setting up a firework display for them. Always letting her tag along with him and the boys, winning Junior Mint for her at the boardwalk, teaching her to dance, getting her the infinity necklace. It had all been for these moments, these feelings. Conrad felt like he’d finally woken up, slowly but surely and now the fuse was lit.

Conrad couldn’t stop the smile that formed the moment he woke up. He couldn’t stop the one that formed when he saw the good morning text from her either. And, he didn’t want to.

Conrad was secure in himself enough to admit he spent a little extra time in the bathroom that morning. He washed his hair with some expensive but sweet-smelling shampoo that his mum had bought him. When he hopped out, he grabbed a towel. Remembering Belly’s comment from the day before, he couldn’t help but smile, drying his hair enough that it was no longer soaking. But it was still wet. He might have even sprayed on the tiniest bit of cologne.

All dressed, he walked towards her room, not knowing entirely what he wanted to do or say but excited all the same.

Calling out her name, knocking on the door and going into her room, Conrad was mildly disappointed that she wasn’t there. They’d see each other sooner or later anyways, Conrad just hoped it would be sooner.

Seeing Junior Mint on Belly’s bed as he walked out, he felt another rush of affection and he bopped his nose.

His good mood was definitely bleeding into all his interactions today. Jere pointed it out almost straight away. Conrad even gave him the last of the coffee, even after the fact he’d been so careless with the fireworks last night and interrupted the moment between him and Belly. At least Jere enlightened where she was. Deb practice, of course.

Conrad decided he’d go over, just to see her for a minute. He offered to drive Jere since he was late, but Jere was already rushing out the door.

Conrad swore Laurel did a double take when he wished her a good morning, walking away with a pep in his step and keys in his hand.

Conrad had just walked in and leaned against the wall as Jere was leaving the hall where the debutantes and their partners were supposed to be practicing. No doubt Jere had been distracting them.

She looked up at him then, catching his eye from across the room, a smile taking up her whole face. He felt a reciprocating one form on his own. So, he waved.

She waved back.

But so did Nicole, standing in between them. Belly suddenly looked very self-conscious and awkward.

That shook Conrad out of it a little bit, but not entirely. Oh right, Nicole.

Anyways, it was time to leave, so he did with a final wave. Before he’d even left the building, he was typing out a message to her.

“See you when you get back.”

Conrad enjoyed helping Cleveland learn how to sail. He hadn’t bothered with the regatta this year, for parts of the same reasons he hadn’t wanted to commit to football camp, but this felt like a good replacement.

He didn’t even mind Cleveland poking around in his business, in fact, it felt nice to have someone so outside of it all. It felt nice to have an adult who was there to listen, but not to push or scold, but just to exist. It wasn’t like that with his dad, or his mum, not even Laurel at times. As much as he loved them, their expectations could be too much.  

Cleveland picked up on his good mood too, despite the fact Conrad said the Fourth of July ended up being a shitshow. Cleveland knew it was about a girl, at first, he guessed it was Nicole. A reasonable guess considering he had ditched him for her before his interview.

“No, no.” Conrad said, rope in hand. “Um... Another girl.”

Although Cleveland was intrigued, Conrad didn’t give much more information straight away. He did, however, find out that Cleveland had been Laurel’s booty call last night.

After a few hours, they’d done surprisingly well. Conrad asked, “You ready to head back?”

“Eh... not until you tell me about your mystery girl.”

“Uh...” Conrad looked away, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“There it is again. Huh?”

“Uh, it's just... You know, I mean... We grew up together, so I've always thought of her as this little kid. But now... she's... not.”

“And you like her.”

“No. Well, I don't know.” How could even really explain how he felt about Belly. “I mean, uh... I just have... there's just so much shit going on. If we started something, I feel like I could... fuck it up.”

That was the truth, one that Conrad had tried to avoid thinking about all day too. He did want something with Belly, who wouldn’t. But what about his mum? What about her secret? Was it fair to Belly to be with her when he was like this— when he couldn’t tell her everything or when he couldn’t fully control the full swing of his emotions?

Cleveland pondered that, like the hundred-year-old man Conrad joked he was. “Well... if there's one thing I learned from years of overpriced therapy, it's that you can't be good with someone else until you're good with yourself.” Conrad looked over at him as Cleveland added, “That's how I tanked my last relationship.”

Conrad nodded and looked back to the water.

When he arrived home, the ray of sunshine that had illuminated him all day had been quashed by the more ever-present storm cloud. Cleveland was right. How could he even think about giving himself to Belly when he was barely holding it together? If his mum died, Conrad knew he’d drown, he knew that he’d bring Belly down with him. He couldn’t do that.

Seeing the weird painting Susannah had done of Jere, Conrad felt so angry suddenly. He’d been looking after her and keeping her secret and pushing people away when he wanted to keep them close and look at where he was now. He wondered what the summer could have been like if everyone else knew about Susannah, or if he didn’t know, or if she wasn’t dying at all. He swiped at the painting, knocking it to the ground.

It was only a second later that he picked it back up and started to clean the deck. He had to keep it together.

Belly came out of the door. “You're back.”

“Hey.” He flashed her a quick, polite smile in her direction, but he couldn’t look at her properly and kept cleaning up.

“Let me help you.”

To fill the air, he asked,“How's you and your mom?”

“Uh, my... My mo...” She seemed surprised, maybe even confused at the question. “We, uh, we're-we're good.”

“Cool.” He said just to say something.

“I-I broke up with Cam.”

Conrad was faced away from her and took one second to close his eyes. “Why?”

“Last night, you and I almost kissed.”

“Did we? I was pretty wasted. I don't really remember much.” The lie tasted worse on Conrad’s tongue than the cigarettes he’d smoked.

“Wait...” She laughed a confused laugh, “Um, are you serious?”

“Okay, we almost kissed. Wha... What do you want me to say, I'm sorry?” Of course, he wasn’t sorry. In fact, some part of him wished that they got that moment last night so that he could at least know what it would have been like. The other part of him was thankful they hadn’t, he might not have the courage to push her away now, to let her go. For her own good, he rationalised.

She looked at him like she didn’t know him, didn’t understand him. Even though she might be the only one who ever could, who he ever wanted to. “Are you sorry?”

“I don't know. I don't... Belly, I think about you.” All the time, forever, now, then, yesterday, tomorrow. “I do, and you know I do. I just... can't.”

Her face was neutral, but he could see her processing what he’d said. He could almost feel her rearranging her feelings for him, packing them away into a neat little box in her chest. “I'm not waiting for you anymore.”

Conrad watched her walk away. He knew that it was probably for the best, probably the right choice for both of them but if that were true, why did his chest ache.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

The next day, Conrad’s waking experience could not have been more different. He was not entirely sure it could be called a waking experience if he’d barely even gotten to sleep. Everything felt wrong. It was too hot, too cold, too uncomfortable. After hours of fruitless tossing and turning, he’d looked at the clock and it was already 4:30AM. With nothing better to do, he put on his board shorts and got his surfboard.

At first the water looked as tumultuous as he felt, so instead he sat. He waited. He watched. Surely enough the water calmed, as it always did if you waited long enough.

Surfing had always been a comfort to Conrad, that’s the only way to describe it. Conrad had loved football and wrestling and all that stuff, but a lot of it came down to his dad, even the way Conrad quit to spite him. But surfing felt like it was something that was more him. It could be sociable or solitary, just like Conrad, depending on the company and the waves.

When Conrad’s mind threatened to think about Belly, a topic that made it feel like someone was wringing out his stomach like a wet towel, Conrad headed into another barrel.

Jere might have been right, encouraging him to go with Nicole to the festival next weekend. Conrad liked Nicole well enough. She was hot. She was fun. It was definitely a lot less confusing, less likely to implode on him.

Conrad spent at least another hour or two out there before making his way back to sure when Cleveland called and asked him to come over.

“Morning.” He waved at his mum as he approached. She was sitting in her painting clothes. Conrad sometimes liked to look at her and pretend she wasn’t sick. Sometimes it was easy to do, like today when she was so smiley and full of energy. Other times it was hard, like when he was carrying her up the stairs to her bed.

“Morning, hon. Hey, do you have a second?”

“Yeah. Cleveland just called. I got to go...”

“It'll just take a sec.” She met him halfway, waddling over to him in a way that he knew meant she was gonna ask him something big, possibly something he didn’t want to do. “I want you to ask Belly to be her escort to the deb ball.”

“Mom, I can't.” Conrad doubted she would even take him if she asked, even if he wanted to go. He’d seen the look on her face as he let her down yesterday. He doubted she wanted anything to do with him.  

“Why not?” Susannah looked at him earnestly, but he couldn’t respond in kind.

“Just tell Jeremiah to ask her.”

“Connie, you know how much it'll mean to her if it's you. You're her Prince Charming, and we all know it.

“No, that's not...”

“You've always been so good to her. Remember when you were the only one who'd let her tag after you and the boys? I just, uh... I want it to go perfectly for her. Please? For me?”

Conrad wanted it to go perfectly for Belly just as much, but more than that, he wanted it to go perfectly for his mother. This whole summer she had been dreaming and waiting for Belly’s moment to shine. So, he told himself it was for his mother when he said, “I'll think about it.”

She looked so proud of him. “Okay, that's my Connie.”

“I didn't say I would do it.” He reminded her, but what Susannah wanted, she usually got.

He eventually left, but not without Susannah reminding him they needed help setting up later and that he could still sign up if he wanted.

Whatever mood Conrad drowned in the waves, he found waiting for him on the boat. Cleveland’s boat was coming apart in his hands, the wood rot seemingly endless.

Cleveland wrongly assumed that his mood had to do with his dad, and maybe it did, on some small level, but it was just everything. When Cleveland brought up Belly, he couldn’t help but snap.

“How are things looking with that girl?”

“Not good.” Conrad ripped another plank off, it snapping in his hands. He couldn’t stand it, its fragility when it should be strong. “And this isn't looking good either, man. I mean, it just keeps going and going. The whole goddamn thing is infected, and I didn't notice. It's everywhere, and I didn't notice!”

Just like his mother. How had no one else noticed? How had Conrad not noticed sooner? Why hadn’t Susannah done something about it. Conrad felt like he was breathing without air. Like the feeling of a wiping out in the surf and you’re disorientated, and you can’t tell where is up and where is down and your lungs are busting for air but how can you get air when the wave is still crashing into you.

Cleveland put out a placating hand, clearly surprised at his reaction. “Conrad, whoa! Whoa. What is going on, man?”

“My heart's beating really fast, and, um...” Air. Conrad needed air. “It's really hard to breathe.”

“Hey. No, it's normal. You're having a panic attack.”

Cleveland encouraged Conrad to breathe with him, and slowly Conrad felt the air return to his lungs. His heart was still beating fast, but not so fast he thought it was going to explode. His hands still shook though.

“Conrad, what's going on?” Cleveland’s eyes searched his, trying to find an answer there because it was clear that Conrad wasn’t just losing it over this dingy boat that didn’t matter too much in the scheme of things.

Conrad waited for the interruption, like every other time he’d wanted to confide in someone— waited for someone to walk into the conversation, or answer for him.

No interruption came and Conrad felt this sense of relief. It was time.

“It's my mom. She… has cancer again.”

Cleveland sat with him on the edge of the pier as it all came tumbling out, that his mum had cancer, how she was hiding it from them because she didn’t think she could beat it like last time and how he felt like if he told anyone he knew, it might kill her—figuratively and literally. Cleveland in turn, told him about when he started having anxiety attacks, how he’d learnt the strategies to help bring him out of it. Cleveland reminded him that he needed to accept what’s happening,

When Conrad left, he couldn’t help but think of the liberation he felt when Cleveland touched his back and said, “Conrad, it's not on you.”

It’s not on me.

On his way back home, Conrad found his mind back on Belly. The talk with Cleveland helped relieve some of the pressure and guilt he’d been feeling all summer about his mum- not all of it, of course. He’d been carrying all this weight and punishing himself over Susannah when he couldn’t do anything about it. But what was his excuse with Belly? Everything that had—or hadn’t—happened was because of his own choices.

He thought about what his mum said this morning about taking Belly to the deb ball and suddenly he couldn’t imagine anyone else up there with her other than him. Of course, he wanted to do this for his mum, but Conrad found himself wanting to do it for himself too, for Bells. He wanted to be the one beside her as all eyes were on her. He wanted to be the one she danced with, like they had done when they were younger.

Conrad found Belly in the kitchen. She was already dressed in her ‘Team Belly’ jersey for the tournament this afternoon, her hair pulled back away from her face into a plaited ponytail.

“Hey, Belly.” Conrad sidled up to the opposite side of the counter.

She was putting some powder in her water bottle. “Oh, hey.”

“What's that?” He asked.

“My secret weapon.” She gave him a courtesy smile, nothing like the full-face ones he was used to.

A little unsure of himself now, Conrad looked to fill the space between them. “Feeling good about the tournament?”

“Yeah, I'm ready.”

“If you stay ready, you won't have to get ready.” As it left his mouth, Conrad immediately regretted it. He needed a minute to even process it. What did he just say? Why would he even say that?

That earned him a breathy, half laugh. “Mm. That was cheesy.”

“Yeah. You try, you try coming up with a motivational phrase with no cheese.”

“Hmm. I'm thinking…” Belly looked up and around like she was really trying to come up with something. “I'm thinking.”

This energy between him and Belly was so odd. It was so polite almost? Belly didn’t seem upset at him about the other day and she definitely was talking to him and smiling at him, but it was just different than it was before.

He couldn’t leave it like this. “Belly?”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry.”

“For being cheesy?”

He sighed“For being a jerk the other day and pretending like I don't remember when I remember everything. I just keep replaying it over and over again in my head.”

“I-I don't know what to say.”

“I know. It's too little, too late. I get it. Um...” She looked away from him, returning back to her task. Just say it. “Can I take you to the ball?”

Her head snapped up, shaking a little in disbelief. “What?”

“I mean, I already know all the dances. It's no problem.” Conrad couldn’t help a little, hopeful smile escape his lips.

Usually, Belly had been such an easy person to read, easy to predict how she’d act or respond to something. In this moment, though, all Conrad knew was that she was confused, conflicted even.  

The doorbell rang before she could fully respond so as she went to answer it, over her shoulder she threw him a quiet ‘I’ll think about it’.

“Think about it.” That was all he could ask for.

While Susannah introduced the tournament, Conrad walked over and stood next to Belly. He could admit to himself that he was probably standing much closer to her than he needed to be.

She leaned into him to say, “That trophy is going to be mine.”

“Watch out for those two.” He pointed to a team he’d seen practicing while he was setting up. “Her spike is lethal.”

Conrad let his hand “casually” run down the length of Belly’s arm as he walked up to both of their mums.

Conrad found Nicole somewhere around the bar. It felt like the right thing to do, to tell her that his mum asked him to take Belly to the ball. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t explaining that he wanted to, especially when she mentioned Jere, but it just seemed wrong to say it in the moment.

Belly and Taylor were a good team when it came to volleyball, it was hard not to root for them. Conrad was really getting into it, cheering from the sidelines. But when Taylor took a fall and hurt her ankle, it was Jeremiah subbing in.

They did alright against the first team. Conrad watched on as Belly taught Jeremiah the handshake she’d been doing with Taylor to celebrate their plays. Conrad could barely take his eyes away from the game, even when accepting some drink from Nicole.

When they won the match, Belly jumped into Jere’s arms, and he twirled her around. It was so different from the energy in the kitchen between him and Belly earlier. It was so carefree and unreserved in that moment. Belly’s happy smile and Jere’s matching one.

The lethal spiker’s team was next, and Team Belly was not doing so well. Jere was falling all over the place, distracted. Conrad watched as Belly’s eyebrows knit together not only from focus, but frustration as well.

Belly might be the most competitive out of all four of the summer kids. It was likely due to the fact that she rarely won and so often wanted to. She worked hard for her wins and savoured them the most. Conrad noted that she was good at volleyball, really good. He knew she was her team’s captain, but it hadn’t occurred to him, this side of her. Determined. Focused. Also, a little bit brutal. But, so, so frustrated with Jere and really trying to let it slide off her back. Except Conrad knew how much this meant to her, how much she wanted to win.

 It was somewhere after 17-7 when Belly called the timeout. Conrad held his breath. He had no idea what for. Her eyes met his briefly.

She turned to Jere. “I'm so sorry. I have to win this, okay? They'll match my pledges.”

“Yeah. I get it.”

“Conrad, I need you to sub in.” Oh, that’s what he was waiting for. “Now.”

He bounded over as Jere lumbered off the court. Taking off his shirt and putting on the Team Belly one, he asked her. “Where do you want me?”

I’ll go anywhere you want me.

“You start up.”

“All right, let's do this.” Touching the small of her back, he got in position.

They served and set and spiked, and the points started piling up. Effortlessly, he and Belly were this team, dancing around the court where the other needed them to be. Each time they celebrated, Conrad felt himself lingering, savouring. The high fives, the handshakes, the pats on the back. Warmth spread from his hands throughout his body every single time. He was almost sure it was why they were doing so well.

Conrad wanted to win this. One because it would be fun, and he was enjoying himself so much today, but also, he knew how brilliantly Belly would smile if she got to take home that trophy.

When Belly landed that winning spike, Conrad exploded with excitement. Belly’s smile was more amazing than he’d imagined. They ran to each other and collided. She jumped into his arms as he wrapped them around her in a bear hug. He twirled her around, just happy to have her in his arms, to share in this win with her. When they let go, he couldn’t help but grab her arms again and then both twirled around each other, holding each other’s hands.

“Oh, my gosh. You guys were incredible.” His mum ran up to them, trophy in hand to embrace them. She handed the trophy to Conrad. “Oh, you make such a great team. Did you ask her yet?

Handing the trophy to Belly, who was admiring it when she asked, “Ask me what?”

“To be your escort. I told him he had to ask you since, you know, it was taking you so long to decide.”

Conrad had never hated his mother before, but in that moment, he hated her a little bit. He felt the excitement from the match leak out of both him and Belly like someone had pulled the plug from a bathtub.

When he looked back at her, she was clutching the trophy to her chest, smiling as is expected from a winner, but with no real Belly warmth.

Later that night, when Steven asked-begged—him to go to the party with him tonight, especially since Jere wasn’t going, Conrad didn’t put up much of a fight. He even thought it might be fun or, if nothing else, a distraction.

Steven was awed by the house the party was being thrown in. Conrad agreed it was nice, but he much preferred what they had. These other kids might have nicer things than him, but at least he got to be with and be loved by his family, he wondered how many of these kids felt the same way when they were off at boarding school.

Jere appeared at the ice luge out of nowhere, despite saying earlier that he didn’t want to come.

Conrad watched as he embraced a girl but did not kiss her like Jeremiah was prone to do. That’s when he remembered the days event when he was watching Jere and Belly play. Something unsettled him.

Turning to Steven, he asked, “Yo, who's Jeremiah hooking up with these days?”

“Uh, no one.” Steven answered quickly, as if the answered disappointed him. Remembering something, he laughed and scrunched up his nose—very similar to Belly— and added, “Oh, my... No, actually, no, no, no. Shayla has this crazy theory, bro. She thinks he's hooking up with my sister.”

It felt like Steven had pulled a rug out from underneath him. He swallowed, but it was nothing but ash, “Really?”

“Yeah, I know, man. It sickens me, too.” Steven took a sip from his beer, completely unaware of the state Conrad was in.

“That's... Wow.” He was surprised he could even form words. Jeremiah and Belly. Belly and Jeremiah.

“But, uh, Shayla has a lot of crazy theories, and Jere knows I would kill him if he ever touched my little sister.”

Then Jere was calling Steven over and Conrad was on his own with this information that rattled him to his core but made sense in some strange way. He staggered on his feet a little bit and reached for his phone to type out a message.

She had to know. He wanted her to know.

"My mom did ask me to ask you to the ball, but that's not why I did it. I did it because I wanted to." Send.

Conrad felt bad when he lied to Jere about their mum, but he just wanted to keep things the way his mum wanted them to be. At least for a little while longer. Soon the summer would be over, and Susannah could tell them both.

“Okay, all right. Fuck you.” Jere shook his head. “And congrats on your win today. I know how much you hate to lose.”

“It's not about winning for me. It's about doing things the right way.”

“Okay, sure.”

Were they even talking about the tournament anymore?

Nicole saw and called him over then, clearly pissed off.

Outside she ripped into him for lying about the deb ball and about wasting her time. All of which, he should have expected and saw coming and probably even deserved.

What he didn’t expect, however, was for Nicole to hand him a bag of Belly and Taylor’s clothes. He didn’t expect for her to say that she left the girls at Hopper’s Cove naked.

He and Jere arrived in different cars at the same time, finding the girls sitting on the curb bundled up in some sort of tarp.

“Oh, my God, Belly, are you okay?” Jere asked straight away.

In classic Taylor fashion, her voice was venomous when it turned on him. “What are you doing here?”

Lifting up the bag of clothing, he replied, “Nicole... she told me about, um...”

She barely let him finish. “I hope you told her to watch her back.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I...”

“Can you just... Excuse me.” The girls stepped between then. While still shielding themselves from the boys’ views, they got them to take the edges of the tarp.

“Uh, do you want some help?” Jeremiah asked, grabbing one and Conrad grabbed the other.

“Cool.” Conrad couldn’t think of anything else to say.

He was acutely aware that Belly was right near him. Naked. In the street. Belly. Naked. In the street. He found himself wanting to look. Like really wanting to look.

Jeremiah caught his eye then and nodded.

Conrad nodded back. Right, yep, no looking. Not looking at all. Looking far into the distance in fact. Belly’s not naked and everything’s fine. Conrad let a breath out of his mouth.

In his car, it was only Taylor that hopped in.

“It's a crazy night.” Conrad smiled at the absurdity of it. Belly and Taylor, walking from Hopper’s Cove in nothing but a tarp.

Didn't have to be.” Taylor’s tone put him right in his place. “If you stopped playing all these games and just let her go, it would've been a great night.”

Conrad didn’t reply. After all, what could he say to the truth?

He didn’t even consider going to bed yet. He knew it would be fruitless with all this stuff unresolved. So, he texted her and waited on the pier.

“Hey.” He was up on his feet when he saw her coming, making her way over to him.

She stopped in front of him, this anger in her voice that made him choke. “Stop texting me. It's triggering. Bad things happen when you text me.

“I know. I know. I'm sorry.” He had never wanted to disappoint her. In this moment, he could barely look her in the eye for all that he’d done. “I feel like I keep doing the wrong thing when it comes to you.”

He looked at the jewellery bag in his hand. This token of affection that weighed so much, that tried to convey his true emotions with one little, but infinite, symbol.

“This is yours.” He handed it to her, watching as she took it out of the bag to look at it.“Uh, you don't have to keep it or... anything. You could throw it in the ocean, burn it. I... I just...”

Conrad struggled to find the words. The words to say sorry. The words to say please forgive me. The words to say I love you.

She looked up to him, her voice not louder than a whisper but containing so many varying emotions. “What?”

“I just…” He stepped closer to her. He had to. He had to be near her, in her gravity. He reached out an arm to touch hers. He had to feel her and the way it feels like sparklers under his skin where it met hers. “...don't want to lose you.”

His heart sat precariously in this instant. It was so pregnant with possibilities, all of his wants and needs conflicting. He wanted her to say something. He wanted her to say nothing. He wanted her to not move at all. He wanted her to kiss him. He wanted her.

He could feel her inner confliction, see it on her face, even as she looked away from him.

Finally, her heart breaking behind her eyes, she looked up. “It's too late.”

She walked away and left Conrad alone with his heart in his throat.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Susannah mentioned it in passing the next morning. Jeremiah was going to be Belly’s partner to the ball. Belly must have told Susannah before she’d gone to bed for the night, before they had met up on the pier. Conrad had to push down the icy sensation that spread across his chest and made him suck in a breath and hope his mother didn’t notice his reaction.

Of course, it made sense—after his mum spilled the beans about asking her to the ball, after what Nicole did to her because of him, after their whole interaction on the pier last night. It made sense why she’d pick Jeremiah. At least Jere was consistent. All summer Conrad had been pushing her away when he wanted to pull her closer. They’d only been able to get in a couple of blissful moments before he went and ruined everything each time.

As much as it hurt that she was choosing Jeremiah over him of all people, it also gave Conrad some small comfort. Jeremiah would look after her, Conrad could believe that much. Hadn’t they all been doing that for their whole lives? But still, thinking about the fact that she hopped into Jeremiah’s car last night instead of his made Conrad rub his neck. She must have asked then. He just didn’t want to think about what else, if anything, happened between them.

Conrad couldn’t help but feel he’d created this massive canyon between he and Belly. It was one of the worst feelings he’d had all summer—but not the worst unfortunately. He had no idea how to bridge the gap, how to scrape back some semblance of the relationship, the friendship, that they’d had before because, by God, was it important to him. Conrad could accept a lot of things in this world, but a world where Belly Conklin despised him was not one of them.

So, he started out simple. The good muffins. An olive branch.

“Hey, good morning. I, um...” He was nervous when she came bounding down the stairs into the kitchen. Jere was in the kitchen with them, already slurping up some milk. Conrad placed the box of sugar covered muffins in front of her. “I picked up some of those good muffins.”

“I...” Her fingers inched towards the box and Conrad felt a little hopeful. The muffins were a safe bet, she’d never turned these muffins before, so he was surprised when she said, “I'm good. Thanks, though.”

“Okay.” That was all Conrad could manage. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. Surely, he was just reading too much into this. They could still salvage this. This wasn’t a big deal. But, at the same time, Conrad could feel the sands of summer slipping through the hourglass. He hadn’t realised how few grains were left.

Conrad sat back on the counter, thinking this over and listening as his mum talked about the portraits and how Laurel was going to let Belly drive herself over tonight.

Belly was so excited, he only just caught her as she was bounding out the kitchen. “Hey.”

“Yeah?” She turned on her heel to face him.

What could he even say to her? How could he fix this? “Break a leg.”

“That'd be bad.” She gave him a small, joking smile, “I'm supposed to be dancing all night.”

He felt so disorientated. “I just... I just mean good luck. It's, like, a thing people say.”

For a beat, there was silence between them.

“Um... For what it's worth, Jere was the right choice.” It was, wasn’t it? After all Conrad had put her through, Jere was the right choice. Except, if it was true, why was it so hard for Conrad to say?

She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know.”

Conrad smiled at her, and then she was gone. He wanted to be happy for them for sure. He probably was, deep down. Except now, every time he spoke with Belly or about Belly, it felt like someone was punching in the stomach. Hard. He found himself wishing that she hadn’t agreed with him.

Steven came through Conrad’s bedroom door a little while later, barely knocking before. Conrad was sitting on his bed, just strumming on his guitar with no real purpose or tune in mind. Steve had his garment bag and shoes in his hands.

“Dude, please don’t tell me that you knew Belly and Jeremiah were a thing and didn’t tell me either?” Steven looked thoroughly disgusted.

Conrad couldn’t help but, at least partially, feel the same. He looked away from Steven as he answered, voice quiet, “No, I only just found out recently.”

Steven sat on his bed with a sigh. “You know I always thought…” He looked over at Conrad, searching his face for something. He did it in a way that was so un-Steven-like that Conrad waited for him to finish.

Instead, Steven let out a puff of air and shook his head and returning to the Steven they all knew. “I better get going. Shayla will have my ass if I’m late, especially since I’m wearing a suit that’s two inches too short for me. I’ll see you there right bro?”

“I’ll see you there.” Conrad responded.

When they arrived, Conrad took his mother on his arm. Again, Conrad found himself nearly able to believe that she wasn’t sick. That cancer was a long, distant, painful memory from the past and not the reoccurring nightmare it was threatening to become. She was radiant, even in black.

They stood at the front with Jere and Steven who weren’t dressed yet.

“Look at us.” She was already a little choked up. “It's perfect.”

Jere rolled his eyes with equal amount indulgence and love. “Mom, you're not gonna cry, are you?”

His mother didn’t waste a second. “What, and ruin my makeup? No way. It's just... Everything's gonna be different next year. Conrad's going off to college. It may be the last summer we're all together.”

Not for the first time, Conrad felt like crying. He didn’t want to think of the possible trueness of that statement. He didn’t want to think that there could ever be a summer where she was not here, in Cousins, with them all. He kept his jaw clenched tight, maybe the only thing holding back the sea of emotions he was feeling.

Unaware of it all, Jere swooped in, taking their mother into a dance hold. “Just don't forget I get a dance from you tonight.”

They did a little movement and Susannah’s laugh was rich. Jere dipped her and brought her up, but they all watched as Susannah stumbled on her feet a little bit.

“Oh, Mom, you okay?” Jere’s voice was full of concern which his mother dismissed instantly.

“Yeah, no, it's just, uh... it's been way too long since I danced. I, um, must be out of practice.”

Conrad had to get them out of here, get her sitting down. “Come on, um, we should go inside.”

She took his arm again and agreed, and they went inside.

Conrad was glad he caught the guys before they were ready and onstage. This summer had started and was nearly over and Conrad felt like, even though so much had happened, he missed it. Missed them.

“Hey, you guys ready for the escort dance?”

Steven turned to hit Jeremiah mildly, “Dude, I-I actually still can't believe you roped me into this.”

“Oh, come on, dude. The girls are gonna love it.”

“Kind of wish we were all doing it together, you know?” And, Conrad meant it.

Steven and Jere looked at each other, surprised but also trying to hold back a laugh. “Uh, you wish you were doing a dance routine?” Steven asked him.

Okay, maybe Conrad hadn’t meant that. “No, no. No. I didn't mean that literally. I just, you know, we haven't hung out much this summer, so...”

“Yeah, you've been pretty M.I.A.” Jere wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I know. That's on, that's on me. But I was thinking about it. We have, like, a week or so left of summer. What if we all went on an overnight fishing trip?” It was something that that’d always done together, usually they’d go at least 3 or 4 times a summer and they hadn’t even been once this summer yet. They’d all had something else going on, but it mostly had to do with him being so all over the place.

Steven jumped on the offer first. “Dude, yeah, I'm in.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Jere was quick to follow.

“All right.” Conrad nodded, smiling. He looked them up and down again and felt excited. “Man, you guys are gonna kill this.”

He reached in and gave Steven a hug. “Thanks, man.”

Then he hugged Jeremiah. Despite all the Belly stuff that hung between them, they were brothers and they loved each other. “Thanks, Connie.”

 “You guys look good.” As Conrad left the room, he couldn’t help but add, “Kill it.”

Conrad sat and listened and clapped politely as each girl was presented. Based on last year’s experience, Conrad wasn’t sure if he preferred sitting on the sidelines or actually being in it. He figured that he was happy on the sidelines. There was no pressure, no one watching you, no worry that you’d fuck up in front of everyone.

Then they called her name. Isabel Conklin. Calling her Isabel had never seemed right, she was Belly through and through. They’d called her that for so long that they had kind of forgotten that it wasn’t her real name. Conrad remembered that when she was 11 she had pulled out her copy of her birth certificate and waved it around and trying to tell them her name was Isabel.

“You’ll always be Belly to us, Belly.” Conrad had replied, tussling her hair which only resulted in her turning red and stomping away.

The girl who stepped out onto the stage looked like an Isabel though. Her arm was linked through Jeremiah’s, but Conrad couldn’t stop looking at her.

It was a different dress than what he’d seen around the house. It was more her, that’s for sure. She looked stunning and her smile, by God, her smile. She tried to look into the cameras as their lights flashed and her eyes met his from across the room. Conrad smiled at her, and he was so happy when she smiled back, a little smile for him.

As they walked over together, arms linked, Conrad was forced to remember that Jeremiah also existed in this moment too. Of all the emotions that seeing Belly tonight, in her dress, smiling at him, had brought up, Conrad had forgotten that jealousy was there too, and a little sadness. He’d stuffed up and it wasn’t him up there with her, it was Jeremiah.

Conrad swallowed the emotions down. Jeremiah is good. He’s a good person. He’s good for Belly. Better than I am.

Conrad was right, Jere and Steven absolutely killed the escort dance. Their whole table was cheering and hollering as they danced. Even Conrad was smiling and laughing harder than he had in a while. It was nice to see the boys having a good time and making a fool of themselves, like they’d always done. After they’d finished, everyone stood up and applauded.

When the applause died down, there was a little time after that for guests to get drinks before the big dance. All of the tables, including their own, chatted amongst themselves. Conrad half listened to John talk next to him before John and went and got a beer.

Conrad was watching Belly. She was talking with Susannah about something or another when the organiser clinked on their glass to signal for the debutantes and their partners to get into position.

Before she stood, Belly said, “I don't know where Jeremiah is.”

His mother waved off her concern, ushering her towards the dancefloor. “He'll be here in a minute, I'm sure. Go, get ready.”

Belly looked concerned but said, “okay” anyways.

Conrad watched her look around the room for him, for Jeremiah. She was talking quietly to some other debs asking if they’d seen him, if they knew where he was.

Whispers sounded off through the other debutantes as most of them were with their partners and were almost ready to get into position and start.

 “Where is Jeremiah?” they all seemed to ask.

Conrad was wondering the same thing. Apparently so was his mother.

Concerned, she turned to him. “Connie. Connie, have you seen your brother?”

Conrad shook his head. “He was just here a second ago.”

Jere had been at the table and then he wasn’t. Conrad assumed he’d gone to the bathroom, or to talk to one of his mates at another table, but Conrad couldn’t see him now.

What Conrad could see, however, was Belly. Alone. On the surface she only looked a little confused, maybe embarrassed, but he knew that this would be shaking her to her core. All the nerves leading up to the day, and now, she was alone in front of everyone with all the other debutantes and their partners ready to go. No Jeremiah in sight.

Belly’s face was starting to give way to the anxiety he knew she must be feeling. She rubbed at her hands, to give them something to do.

That’s when Conrad stood up. There was no space for thinking. All he knew was that Jeremiah was not here, and he was and as long as he was here, Belly wouldn’t have to dance alone.

She turned in his direction then and their eyes locked. This was another one of those glass moments, that if Conrad wasn’t careful, he would break. So, his eyes didn’t leave hers as he approached her.

When he reached her, time stopped. Conrad felt like it was only them in the room. Just him and Belly. Like it had always been. Like it always should have been. There was only a breath of space between them. He wasn’t sure he was breathing. It didn’t feel like it. It didn’t look like she was breathing either. But she was smiling at him, and he was smiling back.

His voice was quiet when he spoke. It was only meant for her. “I think I remember most of the steps.”

Slowly, he reached and grabbed her gloved hand. She squeezed it back. The warmth of this small touch, radiated through him instantly.

She hadn’t said anything, so he led her into the line.

He was disappointed when he had to drop her hand, despite knowing he’d be holding it again in a matter of seconds.

Then they were dancing. Belly had become a lot more graceful than when he’d taught her how to do the shag those summers ago. She’d grown up right in front of him and he missed it.

Their eyes barely left each other’s unless a twist or a turn deemed it necessary. Conrad felt like he was holding her close, much closer than was supposed to but not as close as he wanted. Hands were in hands, on shoulders, on waists, on backs.

Conrad was on his knees as she walked around him. He was elated. His heart felt like it might burst. It was just this moment. This moment was for them.

Conrad found that the final dip came too soon. He held her there for a split second longer than the other partners did. He watched as her eyes flickered across her face. From his eyes to his lips to his eyes, and repeat. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her right in this second.

But then, they were both up on two feet—her standing in front of him, both of them still so close.

“Thank you.” It was the first time she’d said anything since he stood up.

“I think I messed up some of the steps.” He almost needed to look away from her to take a little bit of the edge off all these emotions that were coursing through him. Suddenly he was so, so nervous.

She was still looking at him, right in his eyes. “You were great.” She whispered.

“I'm glad.” He looked right back and for once, let himself say something he meant, something he knew was right. “Glad that it was me.”

She gave him a small smile, not the huge ones that light up her face, but one that was still genuine, still touched his heart in someplace he often forgot how to reach, because Conrad knew it was a smile just for him. It was private, but it was theirs.

He grabbed both her hands, and swung them a little, holding onto the moment as long as he could.

Naturally, Jeremiah interrupted them then and real life fell back into place around them. “Hey.”

“Hey, Jeremiah, where were you?” Belly’s voice was filled with concern as she dropped Conrad’s hands and turned to him. Conrad’s hands felt so cold now.

Jere ignored her question and turned to him instead. “Conrad, we need to talk, all right? It's important. It's about Mom. I found something out.”

Conrad could see it in Jere’s eyes. He knew about the cancer. For one more time tonight, Conrad’s heart stopped in his chest. Not here. Not now. This is not how his mum wanted it— not how she wanted the summer to go, not how she wanted Belly’s debutante night to go. “Um... Yeah... We'll-we'll talk about this later, okay?”

“No, it's important.”

“It's okay.” Conrad placed a hand on his brother’s chest, lightly, placating.

Jere just looked down at it, processing, when he looked up there was an accusation in his eyes. “You already know, don't you? You've known this whole fucking time and didn't tell me?”

“Jere...” Conrad didn’t have time to say much more before Jere’s fist connected with his face and he fell to the floor.

Jere was on top of him, trying to hurt him, and Conrad just tried to hold him back. He knew how angry he would be, could he blame him? Wasn’t Conrad just as angry when he found out? All summer even. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. His mum was supposed to tell him. He wasn’t supposed to find out on his own. Neither was Conrad. Hell, their mum wasn’t supposed to even have cancer. She’d already beaten it. She was in remission. None of this was fair.

“Stop it.” Susannah’s voice rang out above the rest, angry and chastising.  “Both of you, stop it. What is going on?”

Flinging apart from each other, they both pulled themselves off the floor.

Jere was the first to speak, but it was broken. “Mom...”

Jere didn’t say anything else know, probably couldn’t, so he turned and looked at Conrad instead. Looked at his big brother for help.

“We know, Mom. We both know.”

Conrad could tell that his mum was shocked, speechless in a way she’d never been before. She looked at Laurel for support, but she, too, looked like she had no words.

When no one said anything, Belly chimed in, confused at everyone’s reactions. “Know what?”

Conrad’s heart broke again in that moment. It broke for his mother who was dying of cancer and wanted one final happy summer, all for it to be ruined at the event she’d been looking forward to the most. It broke for his brother who had just found out, for a second time in his life, that his mother was dying and this time there might not be anything they could do about it. And it broke for Belly. Belly who loved Susannah so fiercely and was just as loved by her back. Susannah’s secret daughter who was destined for one of her sons. Conrad’s heart broke for Belly because there might not be anyone else in the world that loved Susannah like her. It wasn’t more or less than what Susannah had with him and Jeremiah, or between her and Laurel, or even her and Steven. But whatever it was between Belly and Susannah was unique and special and Conrad’s heart broke because he knew Belly’s would too.

However, amongst the overwhelming sadness, Conrad felt something else. Relief. It wasn’t his burden to carry anymore. He didn’t have to keep this secret anymore.

They were all sitting on the couch, Susannah was holding Jere’s hand but Conrad sat with his arms around himself, as if physically trying to hold himself together.

Her voice was low and cracked from crying. “I'm so sorry the night turned out like this. It's not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Mom, you're gonna do the trial, right?” Jere asked, his eyes red from crying and holding back tears.

Conrad knew she didn’t intend to. If she had, she would have told them, they wouldn’t have had to find out on their own. This would be an entirely different conversation, one with hope.

His mother let the silence sit for a moment, knowing how her response would devastate Jeremiah. “Uh... No, honey. I'm not. I can't. Chances are very slight. Uh, nonexistent, really, and... I just can't go through that again. It was too hard the first time.”

Conrad felt like his throat had swollen up, like any second, he’d stop breathing.

“Mom, but you could try. You have to try.” Jere was begging.

“I just want to be me when I go. Does that make sense?”

“No. No, it doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense.” Conrad agreed. It’s exactly like what he said to Cleveland. Now that it’s been said out loud, it’s real. Her cancer is real. The possibility of her dying is real. How could any of that make sense.”

“I know, I know. I'm not good at this. Okay? Mommy's not good at this.” She finally turned to Conrad then, putting a hand on his knee. Her voice as sad as her eyes. “I should've known that you knew. I just didn't want to believe it.”

Conrad choked a little, wet tears slicking down his face, bending over his knees. He felt like he could throw up.

“Mom, if there's any chance, you have to. I mean, you have to. Come on, tell her, Conrad.” Jere’s voice was hard and accusing. Conrad tried to say something, anything, but his grief swollen throat would not allow him. “Why aren't you saying anything? Mom, this is crazy. You have to try. You can't give up on us.”

Conrad found his words then.“Mom? Can't you just... I mean, can't you just try? For us, Mom? I need you.”

“Come here.” Susannah took them both in her arms and they cried like they were children again. Then, barely louder than a whisper, she said. “I’ll do it, I’ll try.”

Conrad felt that little glimmer of hope flicker in his chest.

Just like that first day, Belly found him on the beach. Conrad hadn’t even bothered to get completely out of his suit. He’d just unbuttoned it and ditched the bowtie. They sat in the sand, together.

“I can't believe she said yes.” Conrad shook his head in disbelief. He was smiling again. At the start of the summer, he’d been sure he never would smile again but look what had happened.

Belly gave him a small smile in return. “You did it. You changed her mind.”

“Oh, it wasn't me. It was Jere. He did it.” He looked at her, but she was looking away at the sand, at the beach. When she didn’t say anything, he took the opportunity. “Belly, I'm sorry for being so shitty all summer.”

“I mean, you were going through all this alone. I wish you had told me so you didn't have to.”

“I wanted to.” He thought about all the times he nearly let the words tumble out to her. “I almost did a couple of times.”

Again, Conrad found himself staring into her eyes and found her staring back in his. He hadn’t forgotten last night. Hadn’t forgotten the Fourth of July either.

His head moved a fraction, but then she looked away. “Um, we should go in.”

“There's so many things I want to say to you.” If he would just let her. If she would just give him a moment to, so he could do it in a way that was right, in a way he wouldn’t mess up.

“Don't. Not now.” Her tone was firm, and she started standing up.

Conrad was quick to his feet too, he didn’t want to let this get away—let her get away. “Why?”

“'Cause you really, really, really need somebody right now, and... I don't want to be the kind of person who takes advantage of that.” She wasn’t looking at him fully. She kept looking at his face and looking away, carefully avoiding his eyes.

“I don't just need somebody.” Their eyes were meeting now. “I need you.”

She shook her head smally, without breaking eye contact. “I don't want you to need me. I want you to want me.”

“I do want you.” Ah, there it was, the truth at last.

Neither of them could look away. Conrad tentatively reached out his hand, tucking her hand behind her ear and leaving it on her cheek. Just like last night, it was a breathless moment. Conrad’s lungs and heart stopped working in his chest and gravity tightened the rope around them, pulling them in for a kiss.

His heart restarted when his lips met Belly’s. It was everything.

He pulled away to look at her, just for a moment, to take in this scene to make sure he wasn’t imagining it and found that her eyes were still closed, she was smiling and taking it in too. He thought his heart might burst but instead he smiled, and he kissed her again, his hand lightly grabbing the side of her neck and the other snaking around the small of her back while hers held onto his arms.

Belly Conklin. His girl.

Chapter Text

BELLY

Belly’s fingers grazed her lips. She swore they still felt warm from Conrad’s kiss. Conrad Fisher had kissed her. Conrad Fisher had said that he wanted her and had kissed her—passionately. Even in her wildest dreams, she couldn’t have imagined it any better than that. When she’d finally opened her eyes, she was surprised to find that she still stood on the sand, and she hadn’t floated away because that’s what kissing Conrad Fisher felt like.

When she did open her eyes, there was Conrad looking back at her. His face was a gift. For the first time all summer, it was fully open, unrestrained, and happy. The weight of his mother’s secret, now carried by all of them, not just him.

Taking her hand in his, caressing it just a little with his thumb—an action that sent shivers through Belly’s whole body, he asked, “Can we stay out here a little longer, just the two of us… Please?”

Who was Belly to turn down an offer like that?

She nodded and he lightly pulled her to the ground, positioning her between his legs. They sat there, like that, in silence for a long time, Conrad’s arms hugging her shoulders, keeping her close and watching as the sun rose on a new day.

Eventually, they had meandered back to the house, walking close but not quite touching. They stopped at Conrad’s door first and he went inside while Belly lingered at the doorframe. He leaned against the slightly ajar door, and they just looked at each other, both with nervous, joyful smiles.

“Do you want to come in?” The question came out in a quiet breath. He tucked a stray hair behind his ear. Attempted to at least, since it flicked right back. Fondness radiated throughout her.

Belly knew that the offer was innocent, but she declined anyways. “Go to sleep, Conrad.”

He smiled at the floor, shaking his head and met her eyes again, “Same old Belly.”

“Bye.” Her voice, but a whisper, anything louder than that would have felt like a crime.

His voice matched hers, “Bye.”

Their eyes didn’t leave each other’s until Conrad closed the door with a quiet click.

Floating, Belly made it back into her room, closing her own door.

So much had happened, in such a small time, too.

Belly thought back to last night when Jere and came to find her after they’d all found out the truth about Susannah’s cancer, after the dinner of leftovers.

She was in her room when he knocked on her door. His voice still a little cracked and fractured from crying earlier, she barely recognised it when he said, “Belly?”

“Come in.” She put her hairbrush down back on her drawers and walked around to meet him.

His mouth upturned to a ghost of a smile. After the night’s events, Belly was grateful he could manage that much. “Can we sit?”

“Of course.” They both sat on the edge of her bed.

“I’m sorry,” He wasn’t looking at her, instead he was wringing his hands in his lap, “that I wasn’t there for you tonight.”

Belly’s heart broke. “Oh, Jere.”

She was flattered that he was even thinking about her at a time like this, but Jere missing their dance last night was the last thing that he should be worried about. She took his hands in hers and told him exactly that. “Jere, you know I would never, never hold that against you. You had just found out something terrible.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but he was nodding. They just sat, hand in hand.

“Belly… You and me…” Finally, he looked up at her and Belly could see his heart breaking behind those sky-blue eyes. “Right now, we can’t.”

He choked on the last word and Belly enclosed him in a hug, tears forming in her own eyes. “I know, Jere. I know.”

They were clutching at each other. She could feel a wet patch forming on her shoulder where Jeremiah was leaning, crying.

He sniffled, and his voice was muffled against her. “With Mum… With Conrad… Right now, we can’t. I can’t.” He pulled away to look at her and Belly saw understanding in those eyes. “You can’t.”

She was grateful that he’d spoken to her and saw what she’d been running from, her love for Conrad. Her requited love for Conrad. But despite the morning light filtering through her room, she hadn’t slept from the night before and it was catching up to her. So, by the time her head hit the pillow, she was out.

Even though Belly thought that her and Conrad weren’t acting that much different over the last week of summer, everyone clued on pretty quickly.

Laurel had given Belly this knowing, tight-lipped smile that she was so good at. She didn’t say anything to them though and Belly wouldn’t expect her to. Belly did witness a sharp look Laurel had sent Conrad’s way, but half the sting of it was lost since it was followed by loving one.

Susannah’s face said everything that she didn’t say to them directly, which, in fact, was not a lot because she was practically gushing about it. Conrad would roll his eyes, but Belly could tell he was pleased. He said as much when they stole secret moments along.

Belly would catch Jere’s eye in some of these moments, he’d have a sad look in his eyes but when his eyes met hers, he’d smile and go right back to slurping up his milk.

Steven was the worst of the lot of them. Just like how he’d reacted with Jere, his face crumpled in disgust. “Conrad?? Weren’t you just with Jeremiah? God, Belly, you’re a heartbreaker.”

“Okay shut it, Steven, I get it.” She slapped his arm. “I get it.”

He slapped her right back. Hard. Her brother never held back. Except when he said, “Well, whatever. I’m gonna refrain from commenting anymore because you absolutely went off on me last time. Just remember to be careful okay, Belly.”

She would. She would be so careful with this, with them.

Before summer was over, Conrad went away on an overnight fishing trip and, like always, Belly was left behind. As much as she wanted to spend time with Conrad, with Jere and Steven too, she was grateful to get the time alone with Susannah and her mum.

Belly asked if they could do a movie night, suggesting that they put on the movies they usually watched on the first night that she had skipped for the first time this summer.

Curled up on the couch between her mum and Susannah, Belly had a bittersweet feeling come over her. She wanted it to stay like this forever, wanted summers to start and end here with Susannah, with her boys, with her family.

Her mum lightly snored beside her, and Belly thought Susannah was asleep too as she started to get up. Susannah put her light hand on her thigh to stop her.  

“Just sit with me for a little while, my girl.” Susannah spoke softly, so not to wake up her mother. Susannah opened her arms for her.

Belly settled into Susannah’s open embrace and Susannah placed a kiss on her head.

“Thank you for this summer, Belly.”

Belly stirred in her arms. “I would have done it differently, if I knew what I knew now.”

Susannah moved to look at her face and her face said more than Belly could decipher. “Would you, Belly?”

Belly looked away. This summer had been the best and worst of her life. How could she even imagine it differently?

“I don’t know.” That was the honest truth. “I just wish I had spent a little less time worry about boys and more of it with you.”

Belly couldn’t see Susannah’s face, but she felt Susannah smile against her head.

The only sound between them was the noise from the TV. A love story that always made Belly smiled. There was no need for either of them to speak.

Enough time had passed for Belly to think the conversation was over, but when Susannah spoke again, it was soft, and Belly could hear the emotion blocking her voice preventing it from going any louder. “Your life’s gonna be so beautiful, Belly. You’re going to make a lot of mistakes, but the best things always happen after everything falls apart. I just want you to remember to forgive yourself for the mistakes that make it all worth it.”

Belly couldn’t respond, tears welling in her eyes. She hated that Susannah was talking like she wouldn’t make it. She only just agreed to do the trial.

“Just remember to take care of my boys when you make mistakes, too. And forgive them for theirs.”

Belly nodded, but she couldn’t even begin to fathom what Susannah was saying, what she was asking her to do. “Don’t worry Susannah, you’ll be here to watch me make all kinds of mistakes.

“Sure, I will.” Belly chose to believe she meant it.

It was late on the second last night, Belly’s eyes were drooping but she couldn’t even lift her arm to turn off her bedside lamp. She wasn’t ready for summer to end, and all she could only prolong it by staying awake later and getting up earlier.

There was a knock so small at her door that she’d thought she’d imagined it at first. She knew it was real when another, slightly louder knock sounded.

“Come in?” Her voice was muffled from her place in bed—the sound being swallowed slightly by the piles of pillows and the blanket.

Conrad’s head popped through the door, and he smiled at the sight. Belly imagined that from his point of view, all he could see was her head, everything else was covered by her bedding.

“Hi.” He came further into view.

“Hey.” She replied. “What’s up?”

He looked a little unsure of himself then. His eyes flickered back to the door, and he shut it slowly with one hand. It amused Belly to see confident, Conrad so self-conscious. “I wondered if I could sleep in here with you.”

Belly’s eyes widened and her mouth opened to respond. She immediately shut it again when she realised that she didn’t know how she wanted to respond.

Conrad’s ears looked pink now, like he was regretting asking. Belly thought it was cute. “I just mean, we’ll be leaving soon, and I-I don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

He was really babbling now, and Belly just watched on gleefully. She’d never seen Conrad act like this, and she just had to enjoy it while it lasted.

He blew out a breath of air, blowing a piece of hair out of his face. He rubbed his neck and closed his eyes to collect his thoughts. “I just want to spend some time with you before we go. I promise I’ll be out of here before the parents wake up.”

Belly forced a serious look to her face. “You can stay in here the night,” He moved towards the bed, but she put up a hand, “but only if you’re willing to share me.”

Conrad looked stumped, whatever he was expecting Belly to say, that was not on the list.

Finally letting her smile unfold, she pulled back her blankets, revealing that underneath the blankets with her was Junior Mint. The cool air touched her legs, making them pebble slightly.

Tongue in cheek, Conrad shook his head. He should have known.

He slid into bed beside Belly, Junior Mint between them. She noted that he smelt clean, freshly showered. Immediately, she welcomed his warmth.

“Thank you.” He looked up at her. She reached out and brushed hair out of his eyes, letting hers roam his face and memorise this moment.

“I just like that you’re here.” Belly’s eyes were already drooping.

“Aw Belly, don’t go to sleep yet.” Conrad whispered, which only elicited a groan. “Would it help if I said I had something for you?”

Belly peaked opened one eye at him as he reached into the pocket of his pyjama pants and pulled out the necklace he’d tried to give her a week back. Belly’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she opened her eyes fully.

“I’m hoping this time, you’ll take it.” He was joking of course, but still there was a hint of uncertainty. Belly assumed it was because of how poorly the last hand off was.

 “I remember when you explained it to me. Infinity.” Belly’s fingers traced the symbol. “I love it.”

“Here, let me.” They both sat up. Belly sat facing away from him as he clasped the necklace onto her neck.

The necklace felt cool against her warm skin. Once it was on, neither of them moved, not yet. Conrad grazed a kiss where her neck met her shoulder and it made them both shuddered. She looked at him over her shoulder and he placed another kiss on her lips. Feather light. Barely a kiss at all.

They looked at each other, a long while, before Conrad pulled her down to nestle against him—Junior Mint moved somewhere away from the both of them. “It’s time for bed, Belly.”

Then they went to sleep, sweetly and innocently, and Conrad was up and gone before their parents woke up. Just like he said he would.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Leaving the summer home had always been difficult but this year it was particularly hard. Belly and the Conklins had already left, and the house was cleaned and shut off, prepared for when they returned next year. Already the air had turned, announcing that summer was on its way out and the coolness of autumn would soon sink in. There was nothing keeping him here, but still he hesitated, savouring the sight. The lowest of lows of this summer should have sent him packing instantly. Oh, but who can forget the highest of highs?

His mum walked out handing him the car keys, “Ready?”

“Yeah, one sec.”

Conrad took out his phone and sent Belly a message that he knew would annoy her. See you next June.

He barely got the chance to lock his screen before she replied. Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, Fisher.

Throwing his keys up in the air and catching them again, Conrad hopped in the car and turned the music up loud, “Let’s get outta here ladies and gents.”

Once they got back to Boston, Conrad could barely find the time for much more than to send Belly a good morning and a good night text at first. His days filled with packing to move him in his dorm but also driving his mum to and from her first rounds of the trial and keeping the house in order while she was away.

One night, his eyes were blearing as he walked to his room, ready to pass out the moment he was in the vicinity of his bed, when he passed Jere’s room. The door was cracked open slightly and his lights were on. Peeking through, he noticed Jeremiah at his desk wearing headphones— the music must have been loud since Conrad could hear the soft beats of the music as it played. Jere was aimlessly squiggling on a piece of paper, clearly somewhere else.

Conrad knocked and broke him out of his reverie.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jere lifted his headphones off one ear.

Opening the door, a little further, Conrad asked, “Hey. Can we talk for a second?”

“Yeah, sure.” Jere turned his full attention to him, reaching over to his phone to press pause.

Conrad took a seat on Jere’s bed. He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to talk to him about, why he’d chosen to come in here saying he needed to talk, but seeing Jere sit still, lost in thought had been so odd. He couldn’t help himself.

“Are you gonna be okay?” He started, looking at his own hands. “With Mum, when I’m gone?”

It was something he hadn’t thought of until this moment, with the last of his boxes piling up in his room ready to move any day now and their dad moved out, Conrad hadn’t considered the emptiness of the house with just the two of them alone.

Jere fiddled with his phones in his hands. “Yeah, Connie. Don’t worry about us.”

Conrad wished it were that easy. His voice was barely louder than a whisper when he spoke next. “You know I’d stay…” Conrad would have said more if he could, if his voice allowed him, but it didn’t.

Jere threw Conrad his signature smile then and reached out and pat his arm. “Conrad, I’m telling you, it’s gonna be fine. Mum’s doing the trial and you’re going off to college. You know she wouldn’t let you miss out on that anyways.”

Conrad moved to his feet. “You’re right.”

He started to make his way out but hesitated at the door. “Hey Jere,” Jeremiah was just about to his headphones back on but stopped. “About Belly…”

Jeremiah just shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Connie.”

So, he left it at that. Conrad only just managed to click send on his message to Belly before he fell asleep.

The first real time he got to speak to Belly again was the night he moved into his dorms. It was the first time he’d felt proper stillness since they’d left the summer house. Still and silent. Conrad’s roommate hadn’t moved in yet and wasn’t due to for another couple of days since he was coming over from the west coast.

Reaching for his phone, Conrad started video calling Belly. She answered on the third ring.

Seeing her face, her smile, appear on the screen, Conrad allowed a contented sigh to escape.

“Conrad,” Her voice was a false whine, her eyes rolling as if she wasn’t thrilled he was calling, but he could tell she was— her smiling, red cheeks gave her away, “you called me, what are you huffing and puffing already for?”

“Okay, I can just hang up—” Conrad posed a threatening hand over the end call button.

“No!” Belly was quick to let the act drop and Conrad bit back a smile. She let out a little sigh, knowing she’d been caught out, knowing he knew she wanted to talk to him. It softened him.

“I missed you too, Belly.”

Her cheeks reddened further, and she looked away from the camera in an attempt to hide the resulting smile. It almost worked. Almost.

The conversation went from there: the move, his mum’s trial, back to school. Conrad gave her a virtual tour of his room and kept her on the phone while he went and got a pack of noodles to have for dinner.

“That’s not dinner, Conrad.” She rolled her eyes.

“Tell that to the thousands of students on campus, Belly.” He slurped up a noodle, adding, with his mouth full. “It’s fuel for the greatest minds. It’s practically a student rite of passage.”

That earned him another eye roll.

“Just wait, I’ll be right back.” Belly popped up from where she was sitting in her room and disappeared off-screen.

Conrad continued to slurp at his noodles. He definitely could’ve afforded a more enticing meal for the first night, but two-minute noodles just felt right. It felt like he was actually a college student now.

Belly reappeared with a plate of her own food. It was stacked to the brim and Conrad felt like he could taste it through the phone. Suddenly, the two-minute noodles weren’t so appealing.

“Oh Belly, that’s not fair.” He grumbled.

She smirked back at him. “Hey, don’t blame me, I told you to get something else. At least, we’re having dinner together.”

They both sat at their respective desks and ate dinner together. It became a routine, at least once a week.

Conrad had only started to settle into the swing of things when he got the first call from Jeremiah. He’d been in between classes so he was able to answer it.

“Conrad?” He sounded distraught. “It’s Mum, she’s on the floor coughing up blood.”

His stomach fell to his feet. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t talk. He couldn’t breathe. All he could do was listen to the hacking on the other end. Then, it stopped.

He heard on the other end of the line, “Jere, is that Conrad? Give it to me.”

Conrad heard the phone rustling as it passed from one person to another. Conrad still hadn’t taken a breath.

“Connie.” It was his mother. She sounded okay, definitely not great, but as good as someone who had been coughing up a lung in the minute prior could sound. “Connie, don’t worry, I’m okay.”

He loosened his breath then. She wouldn’t lie about this. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m okay. My doctor said that this could be a side effect of the trial. She said it usually happens after the first round at this stage.” Conrad had looked over all the side effects and symptoms of the trials before she started, but the list was so long, he’d felt like he’d gone cross eyed by the end of it. “Jere just caught me at a bad time. You kids didn’t see this side of things last time. I promise, everything’s fine. I’m sorry we bothered you at uni. How’s everything going?”

His mum just changed the subject, as if they hadn’t just given him the fright of his life. He only let her because he knew it would make her feel better—the illusion of normalcy—but Conrad ached to be there with them then. He wanted to be there to make sure everything was going right, that she was taking her meds and going to her appointments.

He missed the first dinner with Belly that night, unable to settle himself after the call today.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Autumn bled into winter, and soon enough light jumpers turned into layer upon layer. Conrad’s life had settled into an easy, comfortable rhythm. University had originally been harder than he anticipated, but Conrad enjoyed the effort it required to do well. He hadn’t been as involved in the party scene as he expected someone like Jeremiah would be, preferring the experience of a late night in the library. Conrad had been the last to leave on multiple occasions and equated it to driving on the roads at 3AM-where the world is asleep, peaceful, and yours for the taking.

Belly had scolded him a couple times for it, concerned that he was not getting enough sleep since he was always up early the next day, but he felt more invigorated than he had in a while. He could probably attribute it to the fact that things were going well for once. No dramas with school, talking to Belly all the time, and his mum was responding to the trial.

He’d been home a couple times, desperate to do washing somewhere that didn’t charge per load. Once, when he got there, he found Susannah dancing around the kitchen with Jere, flour covering the benches and the smell of brownies wafting through the air.

Conrad stood there, laundry in hand, and putting away this happy image of his family in the back of his mind for later.

When Jere dipped her, from her upside-down position, their eyes met and a smile broke out on both their faces, “Connie! Come dance with your mother.”

He obliged, grateful that her energy was returning after a gruelling few weeks of treatment. He took her arms in his and did a two-step with her.

“Jere and I spoil you; you know?” He looked down at her. Both he and Jere had towered over her since they turned 15, but still, she was a giant in his eyes. With fake exasperation, he added, “Most sons would say they’re too old to dance with their mothers.”

Ignoring his exasperation entirely, her eyes were filled with admiration. She reached up and pinched his cheeks a little. “Good thing my boys aren’t most sons. I’m so lucky to have both of you.”

Conrad’s heart swelled and Susannah put her head close to his chest.

Despite his preference for the library, Conrad had been convinced on occasion to go to a party or two, usually by the friends he made in his pre-med courses.  

At one party, he’d been approached by this girl while he was discussing with some of his friends a particularly punishing course they all were in. They were just grateful that Christmas break was around the corner.

Moving into the circle, she put her hand on his forearm. “Conrad, right?”

“Yeah?”

When she didn’t immediately remove her hand, he took his beer in his other hand and lowered the other to put it in his pocket, causing hers to fall away. She didn’t seem to notice, tucking a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear.

“I’m Amelia, I think we have a biology class together.”

Conrad looked at her. She had green eyes and her straight hair had been braided away from her face. Objectively, she was cute, not that Conrad noticed. She seemed vaguely familiar in a way that meant he might have seen her on campus in passing, but that they definitely hadn’t interacted before.

“Look, one of my friends—” She hooked her finger towards a group of girls sitting on the couch, whispering amongst themselves and laughing, “—thinks you’re cute and wanted to know if you wanna toke up with us?"

Conrad didn’t even bother trying to figure out which friend she was referring to, he wasn’t interested in the slightest. “Sorry, I have to pass. My girlfriend got me to quit a couple months ago.”

He’d stopped smoking not long after that first night of summer where Belly called him out for it. Belly had made a point, even using his own words against him.

Amelia showed no signs of being upset by his response, just thanked him, and went her own way.

“Girlfriend, eh?” One of his friends, Joshua, elbowed him slightly.

 “Yeah, you know, Belly.” He shrugged and took a quick sip of his beer. “I’ve told you about her a couple times.”

“You didn’t mention that she was your girlfriend.” That came from Olivia from his chemistry class.

Conrad just shrugged again as they continued to rib him a little bit about it.

He had mentioned her to them a couple times now since he’d turned down a couple offers to hang out on the few weekends he had decided to visit her in Philly. He’d enjoyed the time he got to spend with Belly, but it was mostly time spent with the Conklins as a whole since Steven seemed to invite himself into every private moment with him and Belly. Conrad didn’t mind of course; Steven was practically blood at this point.

Conrad and Belly hadn’t really had a conversation about what they were to each other though they didn’t need to, they just knew but girlfriend seemed right.

Two weeks later, Conrad found himself lying in his bed at home after a day of Christmas festivities. After lunch, everyone, including Conrad, had wandered off to their respective rooms for a post-meal nap— fat, happy and sleepy. Conrad’s head hit the pillow, and he woke up refreshed a couple of hours later.

He looked at the time. It was early evening, but Conrad knew that their day was pretty much over. His mother had been sleepier these days even though she was getting better and Jere would probably stay in his room the rest of the night, doing one thing or another.

Suddenly, Conrad was overwhelmed by two needs; to see Belly and to be in Cousins. A crazy idea formed in his head. He looked at the time. If he really wanted to do this, he’d have to leave now. The trip from Boston to Philly was a long one, and then they’d be driving all the way back to Cousins.

Conrad didn’t bother to take much more than what was on him, throwing on a fleece and grabbing some boots. He had half a mind to stop by the Christmas tree on his way out and take some candy canes they had hanging on it. He knew Belly would want them.

Conrad started up the car. This plan felt crazy, but right at the same time. He suddenly felt like the last real time he saw Belly was in summer. He appreciated their video calls and the days he’d been able to make it Philly, but he wanted to see her, he wanted to be near her, he wanted to be alone with her. He also wanted to surprise her. It considered that it could be stupid to start a 5-and-a-half-hour drive without actually confirming that Belly was down to go to Cousins first, but he figured it would be worth the risk.

The trip felt like it took no time at all. He’d rotated between listening to playlists and podcasts to keep himself entertained. He had to stop at a gas station to fuel up his car and get some chips to keep him from eating any more of the candy canes he’d brought for Belly. He’d already eaten two.

It was past midnight when he was close enough to her house to warrant a call. He felt a little bad knowing that Belly would definitely be asleep by now and he knew how much she disliked being woken up. A fact that the boys used to take full advantage of in the summer house. Blow horns, buckets of water, anything that would leave her grumpy and raging.

Conrad dialled and it only rang a couple times before the line connected.

“Belly?” He could only hear the sound of the phone being moved around on the other end. Belly must have pressed the answer button without even picking up the phone yet. Conrad could imagine her half-asleep, hitting at the phone as if her alarm was going off.

“Belly?” He repeated.

“What?” She snapped. He had definitely woken her up. He’d definitely heard that angry, sleep-ridden tone before.

The corners of Conrad’s mouth turned up. “I’m in my car on my way to your house. Can I see you?”

He heard her sit up on the other end of the line, probably in shock. “Conrad.”

“Belly.”

“It’s a 5-hour drive from Boston. What do you mean you’re on your way to my house?”

“Five and a half actually,” He corrected just to be contrary, but also to let her wrap her just-woken brain around the idea, “so I’m really hoping you won’t turn me down now. I want to go to Cousins. I’m hoping that you wanna come with me.”

She was so quiet on the other end that Conrad thought she might have fallen back asleep, thinking that the whole conversation was a dream.

When she responded, he could hear the smile in her voice and it made him all the more excited, “Park down the street. I’ll meet you on the corner after Mum goes to bed.”

“I’ll wait.”

And he did.

The passenger door finally popped open after about half an hour of waiting on her street. She didn’t hop in the car straight away, she just stayed staring at him, eyes twinkling.

“Hey.” She jumped in then, slightly rubbing her bare arms.

He looked back and noticed she had a scarf and a beanie on but didn’t have a coat on. When he pointed it out, she just replied, “It’s not that cold.”

It made him shake his head as he shrugged out of his own and gave it to her, “Here.”

She finally hopped in the car then, accepting the coat. She smiled as she put it on and wrapped it around her. It was endearing to see how it engulfed her just a little.

Contently she sighed, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Conrad felt his ears redden a little and he raked a hand through his hair. “Me neither.”

It seemed so odd to think a couple hours ago he had just been lying in his bed in Boston without any plans for the rest of the night and now he was in Philly, about to head for Cousins, with Belly.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. “Are you still coming with me?”

Without hesitation, she replied. “Yes.”

With that he popped his car into drive to get this show on the road.

They spoke as he drove about all kinds of things. He told her about how he wanted to be a doctor over a researcher since he was able to see what a difference they made with Susannah. He told her how Susannah was getting better. In turn, she told him about all the latest drama with Taylor and her other school friends and what sort of trouble Steven was up to. Apparently, he was going to be spending New Year’s with Shayla.

Conrad felt his eyes constantly wandering in her direction. She talked with such expression on her face, or even with her hands, that his eyes gravitated towards it. While she talked, he took her in. Her voice, her face, her smell. The video calls had nothing on this Belly. The real Belly.

Conrad’s hand itched to reach over and put a hand on her thigh, or hold her hands, but he didn’t want to distract her. He just wanted to keep listening, keep talking. So, his hands remained firmly on the wheel.

The house looked mostly the same, except the outside looked slightly duller. The warmth of the paint, not enough to combat the cold outside.

It was so cold when they first got in the house, the first thing Conrad did was rush up and get another jacket for himself since he’d given Belly his.

When he came back down, she was on the couch, covered in blankets.

“I’ll start a fire.” He offered.

As he poked and prodded and fed the fire, Conrad finally came to the realisation that he was in Cousins. He was in Cousins. Alone. With Belly. The fire poker suddenly felt slippery in his hands.

Once the fire had started, he turned to face her. He shifted on his feet, unsure what to do at first, before his body made the decision for him and he chose the furthest seat from Belly possible, which only confused her. Her eyebrows crinkled and Conrad flinched inwardly. Why had he done that?

Belly was clearly wondering the same thing since she asked, “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

She opened the blanket up, an offer, to slid in next to her. He took her up on it.

He wrapped and arm around her and she snuggled into him.

Conrad felt like he was whispering when he said, “I don’t want you to be scared.”

He risked a look at her, she was looking up at him with her big eyes. He didn’t see any doubt in her eyes, there was nothing but trust there. Trust in him. It made his heart swell three times over.

“I’m not.” Her words confirmed it.

He let a smile take over his face. “Good.”

He tilted her chin up a little more and then he kissed her.

It was the same as it had been in summer, and it was different at the same time. It was long and slow. Conrad was careful to take his time with it, to savour it. He’d been thinking about it for months, since the last time. He wasn’t going to let it get away from him now.

Again, he was overwhelmed with her presence. The scent of her shampoo. The feel of her lips against his. His hands were adventurers who travelled well known paths. He wanted them to explore but didn’t want them to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. So, they travelled from her hair to her back to her thigh and back. Careful.

He pulled back from her just a fraction once, to ask if she was okay. She nodded and recaptured his lips, and he couldn’t even think to argue.

When they finished, he kept his eye closed, finally tired despite how quickly his heart was beating. She placed a hand on his chest. They said nothing.

Eventually, they fell asleep like that, on the couch.

In his dreams, she says, “Conrad. There’s only you. For me, there’s only ever been you.”

In his dreams, he says, “It’s only you for me too Belly. Forever.”

They woke up when Belly’s phone started buzzing a third time. Laurel had been trying to contact her.

Conrad watched as Belly spoke with her. Belly was gonna be grounded when she got home apparently, but at least Laurel didn’t sound too mad. She’d even asked about Conrad when she said they were together.

Hanging up, she turned to him. “What do we do now?”

“Whatever we want.”

“I want to go to the beach.”

The beach was a rough experience. The wind was cold and harsh and so strong that they could barely hear each other.

When they got back in the house, Belly put her hands on his cheeks. She may as well have put two ice blocks there.

Instead of pulling away, he said, “Ahh, feels good.”

He meant it. He was grateful to be here in this moment with Belly. Even with her ice blocks for hands.

She laughed in response, giving him a fake serious look, “That’s because you’re cold hearted.”

He reached up and took her hands then, giving them a little rub with his thumbs before pulling her close enough so he could put her hands in his coat pockets. Anything to melt them.

“For everyone else, maybe.” He kept looking at her hands, but he knew she was watching his face. “But not for you.”

He felt, more than saw her, get on her tiptoes, and place a kiss on cheek.

After that, he started another fire and she made hot cocoa, just enjoying each other’s company and joking around some.

He can’t remember what they’d been joking about when she slapped him playfully, and he’d grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. It didn’t seem important anymore.

He watched a piece of hair fall in front of her eyes. He loved her hair. He moved it out of her eyes. Belly didn’t even seem to be breathing anymore.

Aware of the sun slowly setting, Conrad sighed and said, “I’d better get you back.”

“Yeah… I guess we’d better go.”

But they didn’t move.

Instead, he touched her hair again. “I love how soft your hair is.”

“Thanks.”

Then their lips were crashing together again. It was fast and frantic and wanting. It wasn’t like their other kisses. All Conrad knew was how much he wanted her in this moment. The touch, the taste of her drove him wild. He felt hungry for her kiss, but still insatiable when he had it.

Belly was responding in kind. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It made him want her all that much more.

When her hand slithered up his shirt and she placed it on his chest, he shivered despite the warmth that spread throughout his body from the feeling of it. This was all he wanted. He was desperate for her. He knew they could go further if he wanted.

Noticing his response to her touch, she asked “Are my hands too cold?”

“No.” He pulled away from her slowly, letting go. This wasn’t right. Not like this. “I don’t want to rush anything.”

Her eyebrows knotted. “But I though you already—”

Conrad felt his face burn. “Yeah, I mean, I have. But you haven’t.”

“Oh,” She looked away from him. He tried not to kick himself. This is not how he wanted this to go, but he wanted to do it right. She met his eyes again. “How do you know I haven’t?”

Conrad had not considered that. If his face got any hotter, he was afraid he might explode. “I just thought you hadn’t—I mean I just assumed-”

“You thought I hadn’t done anything before right?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, no.”

“You shouldn’t make assumptions like that.” She said, looking at him sternly.

“I’m sorry.” He blinked. And then again. “So-you have then?”

She just stared at him. The wheels were turning in his head. They definitely hadn’t done anything, and she’d only had her first date with Cam Cameron last summer. Did she do something with him? Or did she do something with Jeremiah? He didn’t even want to consider the possibility. Surely she hadn’t done something since their kiss at the end of summer.

He finally opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. “I haven’t. Not even close.”

He didn’t let his face show how relieved he was, but she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek anyways. “You’re really sweet to me.”

He looked at her serious, hoping she’d understand the truth behind his next words. “I just— want to always know that you’re okay. It’s important to me.”

Her reply settled him. “I am okay. I’m better than okay.”

He nodded and stood up-hand outstretched. “Good, let’s get you home then.”

Then he took Belly home and went back to Boston in a significantly better mood than when he left.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

In the weeks after Valentine’s Day, Conrad could tell it was the beginning of the end. His world had become this neatly wound ball of yarn—soft and perfect, but he could feel it starting to unravel. The more he tried to rewrap it nicely, the more it came undone until he was left with nothing but knots in his hands.    

Susannah had started deteriorating at the end of January. Conrad only found that out later. She was able to keep it hidden for a while—from him, from Jeremiah- but her cancer wasn’t responding to the treatment as it should’ve been by now. He was even angry at Laurel for not being more upfront with him about how his mother was doing, considering she had been spending more time in Boston to help her.

It had made him so mad. It was like summer all over again, except this time he was actually kept out of the loop. Susannah let him live in this happy little fantasy world for weeks, all the while knowing that she wasn’t getting any better. Conrad wanted to kick himself. If he was home, he would have noticed. But he wasn’t.

No, Conrad was at college. His joyful experiences of late-night libraries now seemed like a delusion as they turned into a necessity, his courses proving to be much more difficult than expected especially with his mother’s prognosis lingering over him. Conrad often slammed his biology books closed with tears in his eyes. What use was it all if he couldn’t even help his own mother?

She had sat the both of them down when he was home for the weekend, her rarely unsmiling face serious. Conrad could already feel it in his throat—the suffocation. Whatever his mother was going to tell them, it would leave him breathless, gasping for air.

“Boys…” It was all she could manage before the tears started. Susannah. Jeremiah. Conrad. All of their faces were streaked with silent but ravaging tears, and she enclosed them in her arms the way she had the night of the ball.

“It’s not working.” The way she held them to her, she had covered their ears slightly as if the news would be better received muffled. It wasn’t.

Conrad’s body shook. Jeremiah was frozen.

Susannah took their silence as permission to continue. “It hasn’t been working since January. The doctors weren’t sure at first, which is why I didn’t tell you straight away, but the last couple of scans have shown that my cancer is progressing.”

She turned their faces to hers then. If she hadn’t, Conrad wouldn’t have been able to look at her. There is something so crippling about watching your parent breakdown in front of you, like watching a pillar that supports everything you hold dear crumble before your very eyes.

When she next spoke, it was in a fierce whisper. “I’m still fighting.” Once again, quieter, “I’m still fighting.”

Without remembering when they left the couch, Conrad found himself in his room, his face perpetually wet. Except this time, his tears weren’t out of sadness, but anger. He paced in his room, unable to find comfort on his bed or at his desk.

It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t fair. She’d beat it before. She deserved to be better. She was better. The trial was working. How could it be working and now it’s just not?

There was a football on his bed, probably from when Jere had asked to throw it around before his mum told them she wanted to talk. Conrad snatched it up, his fingers tightening on it with enough strength that he was surprised it didn’t pop in his hands.

Without thinking, he pelted it at the wall. He could only watch as it rebounded straight into his desk, knocking over the boat in a bottle Belly had given him for his 16^th birthday.

Conrad lunged for it as it started to roll off his desk. His finger grazed the bottle, just as it shattered on the ground.

“Fuck.”

Conrad sat on the floor and wrapped his arms around his knees and wept.

It all became so hard after that. College. Studies. Belly. He had loved it all. Truly, deeply. Except Conrad would have dropped out right then if his mother would have let him, but she wouldn’t, and Conrad wouldn’t risk letting her down now.

It was easier to focus on his studies than it was to talk to Belly. His assignments and exams made him frustrated, but Belly made him feel everything. He just couldn’t feel everything right now. He was already feeling enough with Susannah.

When he’d see his phone ring for their virtual dinners, he longed to answer. Seeing her face filled him with the love and peace and longing he craved and desired right now, but he was also sure she didn’t know the true extent of how Susannah was doing. He couldn’t be the one to tell her, to crush her. He didn’t want his grief over someone who was still living to infect her sunny disposition. Conrad could barely manage his emotions and as much as he loved her, he couldn’t manage hers as well.

Except sometimes he couldn’t resist, needing to see her, to listen to her talk. Sometimes, it’d make him sad and that made him feel bad. Other times, it’d make him happy and that made him feel worse.

Conrad sat alone in his dorm room, squinting at his textbooks, dreading the idea of any of these topics coming up on his finals. Eric, his roommate, had barely been around all semester for one reason or another. It seemed like a small mercy to Conrad since he thought Eric was generally pretty repugnant. He was always forwarding him obscene porn videos and Conrad’s objections spurred him on further. At least he was tidy. Jeremiah used to live in a hurricane.  

The end of Conrad’s pen was starting to suffer some serious bite damage while he tried to decide what was important enough to note down. The pit in his stomach had nothing to do with cellular structures and functions, and everything to do with the texts he and Jeremiah had been exchanging.

Neither of them felt like they could trust Susannah at the moment to tell them how she was actually doing, so Conrad had to rely on Jere’s reports. Was she eating? More or less than yesterday? Has she been getting sick? Coughing blood? Tonight, the answers were: no, way less, yes, and yes.

Conrad had been spending all afternoon reassuring Jere that it wasn’t snooping, he was just keeping an eye on her, so Conrad thought it was him when the phone rang.

The distinctly feminine voice that came out the other end was not Jere. “Conrad?”

“Belly?” How was it possible to feel like Conrad’s heart was sinking and soaring at the same time?

It had been a while since they’d spoken on the phone. He’d preferred to text mostly, feeling like he was a little more in control of himself, of his feelings. When they spoke on the phone, he felt like he lost a little of that.

Laurel had told them that things were going downhill by now, the texts from Steven and Belly told him that much. Even Belly’s texts were still hopeful, so sure that Susannah could still turn it around, his fingers always hesitated when typing back to agree with her.

He knew that she’d seen Susannah a couple of times, usually when Laurel went back and forth between Boston and Philly on a weekend and could get Belly back in time for school. His mum would just rave and rave about it for a week afterwards. I saw our girl today. Isn’t she beautiful? He’d agreed. How couldn’t he? But Conrad wasn’t sure that Belly was looking at Susannah with objective eyes. She didn’t notice Susannah’s thinness or the way her eyes had started to sink in. Belly was blinded by love when she looked at Susannah. He knew because she looked at him the same.

He knew his attention was divided while she spoke. He needed to study. He needed to talk to Jeremiah. He wanted to talk to Belly, but he also wanted to run in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing the first weekend of April?” Her voice quivered a little bit at the end.

He leaned towards his phone, which was on loudspeaker on his desk, and eyed it suspiciously even though she couldn’t see him. “Why?”

“It’s my prom.”

He grimaced. He couldn’t help it. He knew this would be important to her, but it’s the last thing he needed right now. “I didn’t even want to go to my own prom.”

“I really want to go, and I want you to come with me.”

Conrad thought about how he already struggled with everything, even when they were just texting and calling. In truth, he was worried what would happen the next time they saw each other in person. “Can’t you go with your friends?”

She didn’t reply on the other end of the phone, and he wondered if she were chewing on nails like he was chewing on his pen.

“I’m sorry, I just really don’t feel like going. Finals are coming up, and it’ll be hard for me to drive all the way down for one night.” It was true, all of it, but it still felt like a lie to Conrad.

“That’s okay.” Ice. That’s what came through the phone when she responded. After how he’d been reacting lately, he didn’t exactly blame her for it. “There’s plenty of other guys I can go with. No problem.”

Okay, he didn’t want to go, but he definitely didn’t want her to go with someone else. “Never mind. I’ll take you.”

“Don’t worry. Cory Wheeler already asked me. I can tell him I changed my mind.”

“Who the hell is Corky Wheeler?”

“Cory Wheeler. He plays soccer with Steven. He’s a good dancer, maybe even better than you.”

He knew she was just trying to get a rise out of him to get him to come, and on some level, it was working. Belly had learned how to press his buttons. He considered giving in, just to see the way her nose would scrunch up in delight when saw him in a suit again, but it seemed so unimportant in the scheme of things.

His mouth spoke before he was finished thinking about it. “I’m sure you’ll have fun then.”

She exhaled through her nose and Conrad could imagine her shaking her head in frustration with him. “I’m sure I will.”

Then the line disconnected. She’d hung up on him.

Conrad took the pen from his mouth and threw it at the wall in front of him, raking his hands through his hair. He stood up from his desk and crashed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.

He hated that it felt like he was letting her down. He hated the thought of her going to prom with this Corky Wheeler. He wanted to want to go. Conrad thought about how electric it had felt dancing with Belly at her deb ball, how every inch of him wanted to be the one to dance with her. Except it felt like this far away memory now, like it happened years ago to different people, or like it was something he’d seen in a movie.  

Conrad knew he was messing this up with Belly. She was his girl, someone he cared for, someone he loved, and he could give her this one thing to be happy, and he was just making an ass of himself.

Belly had probably texted Taylor already telling her that he’d said he wouldn’t come, even encouraged her to go with someone else. If it was even possible for Taylor Jewel to dislike him more, this would probably be it.

After dinner, he decided to call her back. She didn’t answer, so he left a voicemail.

“Hey, I’m sorry about before. Don’t with Cory Wheeler or any other guy. I’ll come.”

Conrad hoped that she understood that he didn’t want to, but he would. For her.  

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad was only able to experience one moment of peace the night of Belly’s prom.  He had been standing at her doorstep, adjusting his tie, when she opened the door. And there it was: peace.

Conrad couldn’t even comprehend how stunning she looked. She wore a violet dress with her hair out and cascading down her back like waves of the ocean. Conrad thought of the times he’d been privileged enough to run his hands through that silky hair.

Then she smiled at him, and Conrad was flooded with all these conflicting emotions. He wanted to hold her, pull her close and never let go. He wanted to kiss her until they were both gasping for air. He wanted to cry and tell her he doesn’t know what he’s doing, with her, with his mum, with his life.

Realising that he’d stopped mid adjusting his tie when she’d appeared, he finished it up. Despite all the things he wanted to say, to do, all he could manage was, “You look nice.”

Her right eye twitched slightly and the brightness of her smile dimmed just a little. It would have been imperceptible to anyone else. Not Conrad, though. “Thanks. So, do you.”

She didn’t reach out and hug him like she looked like she was going to before. Conrad was both grateful and disappointed at the same time.

At Belly and Steven’s school, it was a combined junior-senior prom, so Steven was going as well with Shayla.

Laurel took so many photos of the lot of them that they all had sore cheeks afterwards. His mum called them too, wanting to talk to everyone before the big event.

When Conrad had told her that he and Belly were going to prom together, she almost exploded out of her skin in happiness. She’d been messaging him about it incessantly since she’d found out. Conrad was just glad that she was excited about something.  In the recent weeks, the cancer and the treatments had been wreaking havoc on her, and it was harder to find her in moments of genuine happiness.

Laurel passed the phone to him.

“Connie, be sweet to her, okay? A perfect gentleman.” Conrad couldn’t see her, but he could hear the twinkle in her eyes from over the phone.

He swallowed. “I promise.”

“Make it a night she’ll always remember.”

As they head out, Laurel took a couple final pictures in front of the house.

Shayla and Steven were having a blast, posing all different ways and laughing, but Conrad felt like a tinman next to them, needing his joints oiled up- needing a heart too.

Belly must have noticed. She’d been all smiles so far, but Conrad could tell they were a fraction too big to be genuine.

She looked up at him when no one else was paying attention. “Is everything okay?”

 “Yeah.” The smile on his face felt like a lie.

Even if Conrad wanted to enjoy the night, the sparkling lights, the music, his body wouldn’t let him. Each step towards the dance felt like they were leading to the guillotine. He couldn’t swallow, everything felt and tasted like ash.

He would sneak looks at Belly. There was a distance between them tonight that he knew he created. He noticed it in the way she avoided his eyes just slightly, looking at his nose or his eyebrows, or the way that they sat close, but not close enough to touch like they’d done in the past. He tried to ignore the way her eyes glassed over when they both realised he’d forgotten her corsage. Shayla was kind enough to offer part of hers, but Belly had declined, saying that Conrad could get her two next year.

“Whatever you want, Belly.” But he knew she noticed the way he looked away, the way he said it.

Conrad would have been content to sit at the table all night and talk to Taylor’s dumb boyfriend, but when Belly begged him to dance, he had to say yes.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as his found her waist, and they swayed in sync. The dance was nothing like the one they’d done at the deb ball last summer, both in complexity and emotion. Conrad didn’t feel his heart soar like it had last time. Not the gratitude and luck he’d felt to be at her side. No, this time Conrad felt an impeding sense of doom. He felt a desperate need to keep this all together, but it felt like he was trying to hold onto water. There was nothing he could do but let it slip through his fingers.

But he could have this moment. Just this one.  

“I’m glad you came.”

Conrad faltered under her gaze. The constant lump in his throat like a cancer, killing everything good. “Me too.”

She knew it was coming. She must have because she was avoiding it. Back at their table, he asked if she wanted to go talk somewhere private, but she asked to stay a while. So, they sat quietly for a while.

Without looking at him, she asked, “Did you mum make you come?”

Susannah hadn’t asked him to go, but he was here in part for her, wasn’t he? He might have pulled out earlier if she hadn’t been so excited for it.

“No.” He waited too long to answer. He could see it all over her face.

When they were out in the carpark, excuses to get out of here, to not stay the night, were already bubbling from his throat. Trying to explain that he’d take her home, but then he should get back to college.

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’m sorry.” He fiddled with the keys in his hands.

She hadn’t approached the car.

“What happened?” Her voice was crackling with emotion. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. It’s not you. It has nothing to do with you.”

“Will you please just talk to me? Will you tell me what’s going on?”

How could Conrad explain it to her? He barely knew what was going on himself. He knew he loved her, so much, but loving someone requires giving them a part of yourself and Conrad couldn’t give her that when he was falling to pieces. The pieces of him belonged to his mum right now. They belonged to his studies. They belonged to his anger. His sadness. His frustration. Belly deserved all the pieces, not just the leftover ones that were rusted and shattered. Belly deserved something that sparkled.

“Okay, fine, then.” Her voice shook with emotion, but this time Conrad couldn’t distinguish between sadness and rage. Maybe it was both. “If you won’t say it, I will.”

He didn’t even know what he was going to say, so he was definitely surprised that she would know. “If I won’t say what?”

“That we’re over. That, whatever this is, it’s over. I mean it is right?”

Conrad didn’t want that at all. But maybe it was better this way. She deserved so much more than what Conrad could give her at the moment. Belly deserved someone who was whole, someone better than him.

Could he let her go, though? Dancing with her at the ball. Christmas with her in Cousins. Valentine’s Day under the stars. The virtual dinners. She was one of the only ones who understood about Susannah, one of the only ones who ever would be able to understand.

He could stop this now. “Belly—”

“Don’t,” He shut his mouth, she was backing away from him, staring at him like she barely knew him. “Just don’t. Don’t say anything to me.”

“Just wait a minute. Don’t leave it like this.”

“You’re the one leaving it like this.” Then she was walking away as fast as her shoes would allow her to. Her shoulders were shaking, sinking in on themselves. Conrad had never seen her so small.

“Wait!” But she didn’t.

Conrad hit his fist against the hood of his car. Pain radiated through it, but Conrad was grateful he could feel anything other than the icy spikes radiating from his stomach and through his blood.

He hopped in his car and drove off. He only made it a few streets over before he had to accept that his tears were clouding his vision.

“Fuck.” He slammed his hand against the wheel of the car. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK.”

Each swear was punctuated by a hit to the wheel, until his head bowed from the weight of his emotions. Conrad covered his eyes with his hands as if that could stop the tears streaming down his face.

His mum was dying, and he just let Belly get away. What was he going to have left?

No, Belly didn’t get away. She escaped him. She survived him. He hadn’t known what he wanted to do, if he was going to break up with her, just talk to her or pull her closer, but whatever it was gonna be Belly chose first. She felt the change between them, and she made the decision and he hated it, but it was probably the right choice. If he let her stay, if he kept her for himself, he would destroy her-the same way he was destroying himself. Belly could survive the breakup and she would survive Susannah’s death, but Conrad wouldn’t. He knew that whatever was coming was dark. Abysmally so. He couldn’t risk bringing her with him and putting out her light.

After 10 minutes, he started the car again and started the drive home.

His mum was surprised to see him, but he was able to fend off the questions most of the next day feigning that he was tired, until they were eating dinner around the TV the next night.

She peppered him with questions about how Belly looked, the theme, the corsage, their dances and in response Conrad fed her lie upon lie. They felt like ash on his tongue, but Conrad couldn’t face the way her face would drop in disappointment if he told her the truth. If he told her that he broke his promise and he wasn’t a perfect gentleman. If he told her that he broke the heart of her favourite girl in the world. If he told her he’d broken his own.

He could see Jere watching him out of the corner of his eyes. Their mum was so excited to talk about it that she didn’t notice he wasn’t telling the truth, but Jere did. Conrad was just grateful that he waited until Susannah had gone to bed before saying anything about it.

“So, you guys danced all night, huh?”

“Just leave it.” Conrad leaned back against the couch with his eyes closed. He couldn’t do this now. He’d had the whole drive to go over everything again and again. He felt like a raw nerve.

“Did you even go to prom? Or did you lie to Mum about that, too?”

He opened his eyes and glared at Jere. Hard. “Yeah, I went.”

He was wishing he hadn’t.

“Somehow I doubt you guys danced all night.”

As fun-loving and uncaring as Jere usually was, when he wanted to something to hurt, he knew exactly which wound to rub salt in. “Why do you have to be such a dick? What do you care about the prom?”

He shrugged, but it was stiff, not fluid like it was when he was just joking around. “I just hope you didn’t ruin it for her. What are you even doing here, anyway?”

“We can’t all be Mr. Prom King.” He said it quietly, afraid his voice would crack if he spoke louder. Then he got up and started packing away the leftovers, “Are you done eating?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

When Susannah’s cancer really started progressing after that, Conrad couldn’t help but blame himself. He knew, logically, that breaking up with Belly didn’t have any impact on her health, but he also figured that a broken heart wasn’t helping to fight against the cancer either.

Laurel had come up to Boston the next day right as Conrad was leaving. Laurel spent more time here than she did in Philly now. Conrad felt kind of bad that Steven and Belly were losing so much time with their mum, but he was losing his mum forever and they would get Laurel back, so he figured it was okay.

He was scared for Laurel though. Conrad had known his mum his whole life, but so had Laurel, and she had like 40 years on him. He couldn’t even imagine what this would do to her, if this is what it was doing to him.

He was saying goodbye to his mum in the foyer when Laurel came through the door.

“Connie.” She took him in her arms in a quick, tight hug like she was so good at. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, unable to speak and waved them off. He stood on the porch long enough to catch his breath and hear his mother ask, “What was that about?”

“He hasn’t told you yet?” He didn’t hear his mum say anything, so he assumed she shook her head. “The kids broke up, Beck. After prom.”

He rushed to his car after that just in case his mum tried to ask him about it. She texted him about it later, but he didn’t reply.

They didn’t talk about it until he came back a week or two later. Susannah was so feeble she couldn’t do much without help. She spent so much time in bed now that they had to be careful she wasn’t going to get bedsores.

When he came home, she was asleep in her room, so he sat by her bed reading one of his many textbooks. He recognised the words, but the meanings escaped him. His highlighter hung from his mouth.

Her hand on his shoulder got his attention. “Connie… Why didn’t you tell me?”

Instantly, he knew she was talking about Belly. He covered her hand with his own, putting down his book and highlighter. “Mum... I just couldn’t.”

He couldn’t tell her. He couldn’t talk about it. He couldn’t think. It wasn’t just Susannah though; he hadn’t told anyone really. Everyone who did know, Belly had told.

Susannah looked at him, waiting for him to go on.

“Do you­-” He looked away, leaning over his knees, and staring at the floor. “Do you wish I was different?”

“Oh god, Connie, no.” She tugged him up onto the bed with her, and they cuddled without saying anything else.

Susannah died a month later.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Physically, Conrad was at his mother’s funeral. He was aware of that. He was aware that he was sitting in the front pew of a church they’d only ever been to for Christmas services when he was a child and in front of him, in a closed casket, was his mother. He was aware of people coming up to him, saying things about how sad this is, how sorry they are, and Conrad’s mouth responded automatically. He was watching everything unfold from outside his body.

The Conklins were here. Laurel had come up the day it happened and hadn’t left since. Steven and Belly had only just arrived. They greeted him and Jeremiah. Belly and Jeremiah collided and gripped each other like they were life rafts, and the other was the only thing keeping them from drowning.

Conrad didn’t move from his seat. He doubted he could, even if he wanted. Distantly, he wondered if grief could cause rigor mortis in the people the deceased left behind.

“Hey.” Belly sat down next to him.

“Hey.” It felt like the first time he’d spoken in days, despite responding to everyone’s condolences.

She squeezed his shoulder, and he found some comfort in that touch. He wanted to lean into it, wanted her to hug him, but he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t ask. So, her hand dropped away, the warmth of her falling away with it.

A preacher gave the eulogy. Kind. Compassionate. Graceful. That’s what he’d said about Susannah. Gone.

His father gave a speech after that to explain about the wake. Conrad couldn’t even fathom it when Susannah had told them that Adam was moving back in for her last weeks. It didn’t make sense how she could still love him after all that he’d put her through. It didn’t make sense that she wanted him there at the end. But, she did.

“Before we finish, Susannah had one last wish,” Conrad stirred in his sit, closing his eyes shut. He had all funeral to prepare, but he still wasn’t ready. “Our son, Connie—Conrad—is going to perform the song ‘I’ll be seeing you’ by Billie Holiday on his guitar from one of Susannah’s favourite movies.”

It was some small miracle that Conrad was able to stand up and make his way to the stool and guitar that had been set up for him. He rubbed his fingers together, trying to stop their shaking. He picked up the guitar from its stand and leaned it against his knee.

He started playing the intro, but when he was supposed to start singing, his mouth opened, and nothing came out. He stopped. He started again. He got out a couple words, but they were strangled, smothered by grief.

Conrad couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do this for his mother. One of her last wishes. He was struggling. He could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on him as he butchered one of his mother’s favourite songs.

He only got two stanzas in before he looked up to her then, a plea in his eyes. She understood the question behind them and was beside him in an instance.

Conrad had been surprised when he’d find out that Belly could actually sing. Whenever she’d sung at the beach house, it had been in this joking, fun manner, but when she tried, she could really sing. She’d do it when she was doing her maths homework and had forgotten they were still on a call. He’d never remind her right away, content to just listen while she worked away at the problems.

He let Belly take over, choosing just to be the instrumental to her lyrical.

“I’ll be seeing you

In every lovely summer’s day

In everything that’s light and gay

I’ll always think of you that way.”

Even her tear-choked voice was better than what he was able to manage on a good day. It was angelic. She knew the song just as well as his mother did. They had watched the movie a bunch of times together over the last couple of summers-just her, Laurel, and his mother, thick as thieves.

Everyone was quiet when they finished. It seemed wrong to clap.

Conrad stood up to move to his seat for the preacher to read the Lord’s Prayer and Belly followed. When they sat, he leaned toward her and whispered, “Thank you.”

She didn’t say anything, just gently squeezed his shoulder and turned back to listen.

Afterwards, the processional formed. Everyone came up and offered their condolences again. Belly and Jeremiah’s were hugging like before, except this time neither of them could stop the violent crying.

When she hugged Conrad, it was quick. She’d looked like she wanted to say something, but then the next funeral goer was ready to talk to him.

Not half an hour later, Conrad watched his mother’s casket be lowered into the ground.

Conrad’s ex-girlfriend had come to the funeral. He wasn’t surprised. He had actually seen her a couple times over the past weeks. The first time, he’d been grocery shopping. There had hardly been any food in the fridge when he came home, and Adam was just starting to move back in, so Conrad had said he was going shopping and left the house.

He’d been staring at cereal boxes wondering what Jere even eats anymore when he heard his name. He turned around, and there was Aubrey in a burgundy coat and matching beanie that offset her brown skin.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, leaning in, and giving him a hug. Conrad felt comfort in the way she still smelled the same, like lemongrass. He let his arms tighten around her quickly.

“Just doing some shopping for my mum.”

She took her lip between her teeth and nodded. “I heard about her cancer’s back. I’m sorry, Conrad.”

She put a comforting hand on his arm. She had to leave soon after that, she and her family had been on their way out when she spotted him.

When she texted him later, Conrad found himself replying. They had been friends for a while before they dated. She had been around the first time his mum had cancer when he was 15 so it was nice to have someone who understood but was still separate from it.

Conrad couldn’t stand to be in the foyer of his home, with this many people lingering around, blowing their noses into tissues, eyes wet from the service. The house had only ever been filled with this many people when Susannah had thrown a party. He couldn’t accept the ghost that now haunted the space.

Instead, he went into the basement, not even bothering to turn on the lights. He crashed on the couch, arms over his eyes.

He heard the basement door open and close, and soft footsteps sounded down the staircase.

“Conrad, it’s me.” He didn’t bother to move, besides lifting his arm up and peaking at her from under it.

Aubrey came along the other side and lifted his head up and placed it in her lap.

“Aubrey-” He started.

“Conrad, we don’t have to talk, but I can just be here for you.” She began running her hands along his head, and it felt so good to be comforted, to not feel the pressure of someone or something. It felt familiar. It felt safe. It felt like something he needed right in this moment. In response, he let his hand stroke her leg.

They sat quietly for a while like that, her hands stroking his head, his stroking her leg. He let his eyes close. He could just pretend everything was okay.

Then Aubrey said, “Hey.”

He knew it wasn’t meant for him. His eyes opened and Belly was frozen in place, mortified that she’d stumbled into something seemingly intimate. He sat up. He couldn’t look her in the eyes, so instead he looked at the plate of food in her hands.

“Is that food for us?”

“My mother sent it.” She drifted over, like an untied buoy, and placed the plate on the table next to them.

“Thanks.” Aubrey’s tone was a polite dismissal.

Belly started to back out of the room and started running as soon as she got to the stairs. Conrad was up and following. What was he going to tell her? That it wasn’t what it looked like? Even if it was, it’s not like they were together anymore.

“Wait a minute!” He caught her by the arm in the foyer.

“What do you want?” She tried to shake him off. “Let go of me.”

“That was Aubrey.” He offered it as if it were some sort of explanation, letting go of her.

He watched Belly’s face flinch as she processed the information. “Sorry, I interrupted your little moment.”

Conrad rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Oh, grow up.” He scoffed.

He knew how much she hated being treated like a child, especially by him and the other boys. Maybe he had chosen something better to say instead, because she looked at him with such spite in that moment, she practically spit when she said, “Go to hell.”

All bets were off now. It was his mother’s funeral, or did she just forget? How can she say that? “I should have known you’d be like this.”

He started to walk away. He tried, but she stood in his way, “What do you mean?”

“I knew it was a bad idea, starting something with you. You’re just a kid. It was a huge mistake.”

It was only partially true. He’d been worried about a lot of things when he first started seeing Belly, when he first started admitting his true feelings for her, but her being a kid wasn’t one of them. Except, right now she was acting like one and it disgusted him. If anyone had the right to act out today, it was him and Jeremiah, but they were keeping it together, so she should too.

He said it to hurt her, and it worked. His comment landed like a punch. Her face crumpled slightly.

“I don’t believe you.”

The both of them had the attention of the whole foyer now. This was worse than the attention he’d been trying to avoid in the first place. Instead of reply, he just shrugged and tried to move passed her.  

“I hate you.” Her face was red.

He was over it. He was fed up. He was grieving, and he shouldn’t have to put up with this bullshit from Belly too. “Good.”

Tears started welling in her eyes then. “I never want to see you again.”

Then she was pushing past him and running away. He heard her trip on the staircase as he slinked back into the basement. Away from his mother’s mourners. Away from Belly.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Susannah’s grave was barely even cold when Conrad found out that his dad was trying to sell the Cousins’ house.

He’d come home briefly to pick up a few textbooks for his summer semester. His studies had been hard enough on their own without the burden of his mother’s passing, and now it was unbearable. For the first time in his life, he was failing. He had to enrol in summer classes if he had any chance of making it to next semester.

His dad had taken over Susannah’s office which, in the months before, had become Laurel’s office while she’d been helping take care of her. Before the wake, a bunch of stuff had been shuffled into the office, including his textbooks. He’d barely noticed until now.

He shuffled through the room, looking underneath everything that Laurel and his father had deemed unsuitable for prying eyes. He saw the textbook peeking out from underneath some papers on the desk. Conrad was about to move them aside when he saw a photo of the beach house on one of them.

He read the page and reread it, snatching up the others and reading them too. His dad was selling their house, her house. Adam didn’t even have the dignity to tell them.

“The bastard.”

His dad’s planner was there too, and Conrad flicked through the pages. The movers were coming in a few days to pack up their things. Well, not if Conrad had anything to do with it.

He hopped in his car and drove back to Brown, dropping off his textbook that he somehow managed to remember. He threw a bunch of things in a bag.

As he was rushing back out of his dorm room, he crashed into Ari the RA.

“Woah. Hey, where are you going?”

He didn’t stop. “I’m going to the beach.”

He was half out the door when she called out, “Don’t you have exams coming up?”

None of that mattered. He was on his way to Cousins.

Conrad missed two classes, but he arrived just in time to send the movers away.

The house still smelled like her—Susannah. He let his hands run over everything, the couch, the tables, the counters. All of this, all of it was hers. Conrad’s jaw clenched at the idea that any of it would belong to someone else. It couldn’t. It wouldn’t.

He spent two days alone in the house. It was strange. In all the summers he’d been here, it had never been this quiet. The only time it had ever come close was Christmas with Belly, and even then, their laughter had echoed throughout. Conrad pushed the thought out of his mind.

It had been two months since they’d spoken, longer than that since they’d been happy. Of everything that Conrad avoided thinking about, Belly was one of the biggest. She would creep into his mind at different hours of the days, and he would have to shove her back out again. Conrad was afraid to touch the happy memories at risk of souring them. If he took them out and examined them, if he revelled in those joyful moments, it would only make him feel guilty. How could he think about being happy when his mother was dead? The sad, the angry memories were just as bad. They embittered him.

Go to Hell. I hate you. I never want to see you again.

No. If he thought about them, he would lose himself in that ever-growing canyon forming in his stomach. If he thought about them, he would have to think about what he said, what he did.

He gripped onto those feelings of rage and disgust and disappointment as if they were tangible, something that could keep his head above the constant and crashing waves.

He’d had spent the morning on the water, grateful that the surfs were large and punishing. He was dumped by wave after wave, but it was something he could handle.

He noticed Jere in the kitchen straight away and scoffed. Jeremiah shouldn’t be here. Conrad’s face shifted into something unwelcoming.

He noticed her a second later. He wasn’t expecting her. Belly. He only allowed his eyes to look at her for a fraction of a second, but the pang in his chest made him look away. Instead, he turned his hard glare at his brother.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Conrad’s voice was stone.

“I’m here to pick you up and take you back to school. You really messed up, man. Dad’s going out of his mind.”

“Tell him to screw himself. I’m staying.”

“Con, you’ve missed two classes and you’ve got midterms on Monday. You can’t just bail. They’ll kick you out of summer school.” Jere explained as if it wasn’t Conrad’s life he was talking about.

“That’s my problem.” He couldn’t ignore her presence anymore. He still couldn’t look at her, but everything in him needed to know. “And what’s she doing here?”

She was backing away now.

“I brought her with me to help.” Jere looked in her direction. Conrad noted the hint of concern there. “Look, we’ve got all your books and everything. You can study tonight and tomorrow and then we can head back to school.”

“Screw it. I don’t care.”

“What’s your problem?” Jere asked. Conrad almost wanted to laugh. What wasn’t his problem these days?

“Right now, this is my problem. You and her. Here.” He needed both to be gone. He hated that they were here to try and save him. He didn’t need saving. The house needed saving. He turned to Belly then; she’d been frozen by the sliding doors. “Why do you want to help me? Why are you even here?”

He didn’t keep the iciness from tone or the sharpness from his stare. Her mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. She closed it. He waited for her to try again, but she didn’t.

It was bitter sarcasm in his voice next. “I thought you never wanted to see me again. You hate me, remember?”

“I don’t hate you.” Her voice was as small as the child he treated her like. Then she was gone. Out the door. Vanished in the wind.

He wished that made him feel better. He raked his hands through his hair.

Jere stared at the spot where Belly vanished from. He took a step towards it, like he considered going after her, but decided against it. When they were younger, Jere would always chase after her when she was upset. He'd hated the thought of anyone being sad, especially Belly.  

“Like I said, Jere, I’m not going anywhere.” Jere turned his gaze back to him. “But I can’t stop you from being here either.”

Conrad got up then and went and got changed. He left the house. He didn’t want to be here when Belly got back.

By the time he’d gotten back, Belly had already been and gone. When she did come back, he and Jere were drinking beer on the back deck. She was carrying a paper bag. He could smell the clam rolls from here.

She sat down beside Jere. “Pass me a beer.”

The old Conrad would have said something. He wanted to, but he couldn’t muster up the energy to. He just continued to stare out at towards the setting sun.

Belly and Jere bickered in the background; except he wasn’t really listening. Instead, he reached in and grabbed out one of the rolls and dug in.

She noticed this, like she noticed everything. “You’re welcome.”  She added.

He just grunted his thanks. He didn’t trust himself to say anything.

Jere’s phone started buzzing on the table. They all stared at it, but no one moved to answer it. Conrad could assume who it was. Jere had said earlier that their dad had been calling every 15 minutes since they’d arrived in Cousins.

“I’m not leaving this house. Tell him that.”

Jere sighed and took the call inside.

It was just him and Belly out there now. The air was heavy with everything said and unsaid between them. He expected her to say something. In moments like these, she always did.

Instead, she sighed and got comfortable in her seat, her eyes staring out as the sunset painted the skies wonderous colours.

Conrad could pretend, for a second, that everything was fine. Like this summer was like all the others, that his mum was okay, and that he and Belly were… were something—something good.

The next day after Jere and Conrad went surfing and picked up dirt bombs. It would have felt like old times, if it wasn’t for that dark pit that had settled in Conrad’s heart after Susannah died.

Belly came down while they were in the kitchen eating them. Her shorts were so small, he couldn’t help but appreciate the length of her legs. He looked away quickly. Neither of them noticed as Jere offered her a dirt bomb and she dug in.

They turned to him to ask what was going on next.

“You guys should head out soon, if you want to miss the Fourth of July traffic,” Conrad said.

“We’re not leaving without you,” Jeremiah told him.

Conrad exhaled. “Look, Jere, I appreciate you coming here. But as you can see, I’m fine. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Like hell you do. Con, if you’re not back on Monday for your exams, you’re out. The only reason you’re even taking summer school is those incompletes from last semester. If you don’t go back, then what?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure things out.”

 “You keep saying that, but dude, you haven’t figured out shit. All you’ve done so far is run away.”

Conrad glared at him. He wanted to punch Jere mainly because he was getting on his nerves, but also because he was right. He didn’t let his eyes flicker to Belly. Instead, he thought about how he ran from his dad straight here. Or, how he ran from summer school.  

When he didn’t respond, Belly spoke instead, “So, how are you going to become a doctor without a college degree, Conrad?”

His head whipped in her direction. It felt like he was back in the car with her at Christmas on their way to Cousins. When he was hopeful. When he was going to be a doctor. When he was someone completely different. That Conrad was buried with his mother.

“I never said I was going to be a doctor,” he snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She did know—that’s what irritated Conrad the most. He had told her, and she remembered like she always did.

“Then tell us,” Belly said.

No one spoke.

He wasn’t sure if it was the way she said it or their expressions as they looked at him, but Conrad debated telling them then. It would be just as simple as saying, “Dad’s selling the house, and I’m trying to save it.”

Except if it was that simple, why couldn’t Conrad just say it? Why hadn’t he said it when they first arrived? They might have left already if he said it, or they might have stayed. No, Conrad wanted to keep this to himself. He wanted to let Jere keep that image of their father he’d once shared intact. It was his job to protect him, just like he’d promised Susannah.

Conrad stood up. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m gonna head back out there. Thanks for the dirt bombs, Jere.” He turned to Belly and said, “You have sugar all over your face.”

If everything were normal, he would have found it endearing.

He had to pretend that he wasn’t running away when he left this time.

When he returned to the house an hour or so later, Belly was swimming in the pool.

He lifted her towel from where it was lain out on the seat and took its place.  

Like so many other times before, Belly didn’t notice him. She went back and forth and back and forth. Regardless of how many laps she did, how many breaths she took, Belly’s pace remained the same. Conrad found comfort in its familiarity, her strokes like a pendulum swing.

She noticed him finally, and Conrad ignored how it made his heart skip a little.

She smoothed her hair back as she hopped out of the water in a gingham bikini he’d never seen before. She never used to wear bikinis, her preference usually for a swimmer’s one piece. Belly only started wearing them last summer. He remembered the purple one she’d worn when she, Jere and the others played chicken last year. He looked away before she noticed that he’d been watching. She was still in her own little world. She wrapped her arms around her body, shivering slightly. He held out her towel without a word and she wrapped it around herself.

She took a seat down next to him. They didn’t look at each other.

He felt the need to say something. He wanted to talk to her despite himself. “Do you still pretend you’re at the Olympics?”

“No,” She hugged her knees to her chest. “Not anymore.”

“When you swim,” he started to say. He almost didn’t finish his sentence. Belly just gets under his skin so easily, and he was still angry at her and everything that happened between them, but grudging respect won over, “You wouldn’t notice if the house was on fire. You’re so into what you’re doing, it’s like you’re someplace else.”

Before she could respond, he started getting up and going back into the house. As the door, slid shut, he heard her call out, “That’s why I like it.”

Conrad didn’t expect Sandy Donatti to show up at the house herself. He’d seen her name on a couple of the documents from his dad’s office. They’d even been pencilled in for a lunch last week.

They were going back and forth about the fact that Conrad had sent away the movers when Belly made her way down the stairs. Sandy looked in and noticed her, her mouth forming in a straight line. “I was told the house would be empty.”

“You were given erroneous information. I’ll be here for the rest of the summer.” He gestured back at her. “That’s Belly.”

“Belly?” she repeated. Was she deaf and dumb?

“Yup. She’s my girlfriend.” He answered without hesitation. Conrad hadn’t noticed he’d said anything wrong, until Belly choked a little in the background.

Crossing his arms and leaning against the wall, he continued. “And you and my dad met how?”

Sandy became nervous then, and Conrad knew he had her on the ropes. With a play of the dead mum card, he sent her packing, saying she would be reaching out to his dad.

“Make sure you let him know the house is off the market.”

Then she was gone.

Conrad closed the door, and without turning in Belly’s direction said, “Don’t tell Jeremiah about the house.”

“Why not?”

He wasn’t going to answer at first. She must have thought he wasn’t going to answer at all since she started moving back upstairs.

“I’ll tell him about it. I just don’t want him to know yet. About our dad.”

She stopped, and leant against the railing, down at him. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Conrad looked at her, his eyes steady.

Belly had always been pretty easy to read. If it were any easier, her thoughts would just be projected onto a TV screen. She knew his dad was an asshole, and that he wanted to protect Jere from that a bit longer. Except Conrad could also tell that she believed Jere already knew and that he definitely deserved to know the house was for sale.   

For some reason, it annoyed him. Why should it surprise Conrad that Belly cared about Jere? It shouldn’t, they’d been thick as thieves for years. But if she cared about him too, she should have already said yes.

“So can you do that for me, Belly? Can you keep a secret from your BFF Jeremiah? I know you two don’t keep secrets from each other, but can you handle it just this once?”

He felt her glare in his bones, and her mouth opened to respond, probably tell him to fuck off. He didn’t give her the chance.

“Please?” It was a plea. If he let the asshole bit go for a moment, she’d do it. He knew she would.

“All right. For now.”

“Thank you.”

That afternoon on the waves, Conrad considered telling Jere about the house, but he hadn’t pushed him about school, so he didn’t want to ruin it. Conrad figured that they could enjoy this solitude in solidarity.

They had been joking around as they made their way up the stairs. He saw Belly first, she sat with her towel covering her whole body with her knees to her chest and a beer held tightly in her hand. He wondered why until he noticed his father sitting next to her.

Conrad felt all his muscles go taut, and Jere mumbled a swear next to him.

Conrad didn’t bother to say hello like Jere did, he went straight inside with his father on his heels. He noticed that Jere and Belly didn’t follow immediately, except he did hear her giggle at something Jere had said. Something stirred in his stomach.

Conrad went straight the fridge and got a beer, and Adam started going in on him and Jeremiah about messing with the sale and Conrad not being at college.

Jeremiah was clearly surprised about the house, but it didn’t stop Conrad from shooting shots back at his dad saying he didn’t care about Susannah and only cared about money and Conrad wasn’t like that.

When Adam said he knew what Susannah would have wanted and that he “lost” her too, Conrad saw red. He punched the wall closest to him, wishing it were his father.

“You didn’t lose her. You left her. You don’t know the first thing about what she would have wanted. You were never there. You were a shitty dad and an even shittier husband. So don’t bother trying to do the right thing now. You just fuck it all up.”

Jeremiah said, “Con, shut up. Just shut up.”

Conrad swung around and shouted, “You’re still defending him? That’s exactly why we didn’t tell you!”

“We?” Jeremiah repeated. Conrad had made them out to be some co-conspirators. The colour drained out of his face as he turned to Belly. 

Her head shook, in a placating way, “I just found out today, I swear—"

She couldn’t finish because Adam cut her off, “You are not the only one hurting, Conrad. You don’t get to talk to me that way.”

“I think I do.”

Conrad and his father stared each other down. No one else was moving or breathing. He could see that his father wanted to hit him, and Conrad’s eyes dared him too. Adam might be bigger, but Conrad could take him, he just wanted the excuse.

Instead, Adam looked away. “The movers are coming back, Conrad. “This is happening. You throwing a tantrum can’t stop it.”

He left soon after, saying he’d be at the inn in town and would be back in the morning.

It was a while before anyone else spoke, like they’d been frozen in the moment.

Jere was the first to speak. “I can’t believe he’s really selling the house.”

Jeremiah had a much higher opinion of their father than Conrad did. “Believe it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?” Jeremiah demanded.

It was enough to ignite an argument between them too. Conrad saying that Jere didn’t need to know and Jere firing back saying he had every right to know, and that Conrad hadn’t saved the house anyways. Conrad retorted calling him a kiss ass and who doesn’t actually see who their father what he is: a dirtbag.

“Don’t call him that.”

“What kind of guy cheats on his wife and then leaves her when she has cancer? What kind of man does that? I can’t even stand to look at him. He makes me sick, playing the martyr now, the grieving widower. But where was he when Mom needed him, huh, Jere?”

“I don’t know, Con. Where were you?”

Conrad sucked in a breath. He would have rather been punched. He had thought about Susannah every day he wasn’t by her side. He had tried—tried to be there, but she wouldn’t let him stay away from school, despite the fact he couldn’t even focus when he was there. He’d offered to stay. He wanted to.

Jeremiah would take it back, he was about it, but Conrad tried to play it off instead. “That’s a low blow.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremiah said.

Conrad shrugged, brushing him off like it didn’t matter either way.

And then Jeremiah said, “Why can’t you just let it go? Why do you have to hold on to all the shitty stuff that’s ever happened to you?”

“Because I live in reality, unlike you. You’d rather live in a fantasy world than see people for who they really are.” Some small part of him thought this about Belly as well, how she had lived with this fantasy of them rather than notice his cracks.

Jeremiah must have picked up on this too because he bristled, his gaze flicking to Belly and back to Conrad. “You’re just jealous. Admit it.”

“Jealous?” Why had he looked at Belly when he said it?

But the next thing he said wasn’t about her. “You’re jealous that Dad and I have an actual relationship now. It’s not just all about you anymore, and that kills you.”

Conrad actually laughed. It was a bitter, terrible sound. “That’s such BS.” It was his turn to turn to her. “Belly, are you hearing this? Jeremiah thinks I’m jealous.”

They were both looking at her then, expectedly, waiting for her to pick a side. Belly looked like a deer in headlights, frozen in terror. Her eyes shifted wildly between them with indecision.

Jere turned back to him when Belly still hadn’t responded. “You’re an asshole, Conrad. You just want everyone to be as miserable as you are.” And then he walked out. The front door slammed behind him.

“Am I an asshole, Belly?” Conrad asked Belly, even though he suspected he already knew the answer, he wanted to hear her say it. He grabbed a beer, just to give his shaking hands something to do.

“Yeah. You really are.” She confirmed. She went over and peered out the window as Jeremiah drove off. A crease had formed between her eyebrows—the same one that belonged to her maths problems.  

“He’ll be back,” Conrad said.

“You shouldn’t have said that stuff.”

“Maybe not.” He conceded.

“You shouldn’t have asked me to keep it a secret from him.”

He could tell she was regretting that she did what he asked.

Conrad shrugged, but his eyes glanced at the window as the Jere’s taillights vanished out of view. He’d be back. He had to come back. If anything, Jere wouldn’t abandon Belly to be here alone with him forever. He wouldn’t punish her like that.

Grabbing another beer, he threw it to her. She caught it and popped the top like she’d done it a thousand times, except Conrad noticed the tiniest little wince when she took a sip. Her lips smacked loudly.

His heart ached a little to see the small ways Belly had changed since they’d spoken last. “So, you like beer now, huh?”

She shrugged. “It’s all right. I still like Cherry Coke better though.”

At least some things hadn’t changed.

He almost smiled when he said, “Same old Belly. I bet if we cut your body open, white sugar would come pouring out of you.”

“That’s me,” I said. “Sugar and spice and everything nice.”

He thought about the funeral when he said, “I don’t know about that.”

A quiet hang over them.

She took another sip of her beer, putting it near him. “I think you really hurt Jeremiah’s feelings.”

He shrugged. “He needed a reality check.”

“You didn’t have to do it like that.” She bit at her thumb nail, still staring towards the door Jeremiah had left through.

She was probably right, but Conrad couldn’t seem to do anything right these days. Instead, he saw an opportunity to turn it on her, to pry. “I think you’re the one who hurt Jeremiah’s feelings.”

It was just starting to come into vision now, all the looks he’d caught Jere sending her way, the fact that Jere even asked her to help find him in the first place. He even seen Jere go into her room the other night to talk. He was probably more hurt that Belly hadn’t said anything to him, hadn’t picked his side than anything else Conrad had said. He wondered how much of it Belly was picking up on. She had always been oblivious to that kind of thing. She had been when it was him and her.   

She gave him a sidelong glance. He wanted her to ask what he meant, but instead she said, “What now?”

“What now with you and Jeremiah or with you and me?” His voice was teasing, but the question was genuine.

Maybe it was cruel to tease her like this, knowing he can’t offer her anything. He could see her cheeks redden.

“What now with this house, was what I meant.”

He leaned back against the counter. “There’s nothing to do, really. I mean, I could get a lawyer. I’m eighteen now. I could try and stall. But I doubt it would do anything. My dad’s stubborn. And he’s greedy.”

She looked to her feet, considering her words, “I don’t know that he’s doing it out of—out of greed, Conrad.”

Belly didn’t know their father as well as he did. He felt his face shut like blinds. “Trust me. He is.”

“What about summer school?”

“I couldn’t care less about school right now.” School would always be there, but the beach house wouldn’t be.

“But—” She tried.

He cut her off. His tone allowed for no further conversation. “Just leave it, Belly.”

He didn’t want to be in the kitchen with her anymore.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad was glad that when Jeremiah returned the animosity between them had dissipated, multiple cases of beers taking its place with the announcement of a party to celebrate their last night with the house they loved so dearly.

They had scoffed down almost all of the pizza Jere had brought while he was out before Belly reappeared again. She’d lingered at the base of the stairs trying to scope out the situation and whether she should escape back to her room.

Jere’s smile to her opened up his whole face, and Conrad wondered how long it had been since he smiled like that.

She looked like she could have fallen over in relief, but instead she gave him a returning smile. They let her in on their plan then about having a party with some people from town as she scoffed down the small slice of pizza they’d left her.

Jere went into the kitchen and came back with three cups, giving one to each of them.

“Smells strong,” Belly inspected the brown liquid in her cup with caution.

“That’s because it’s tequila,” Jere sang. He lifted his cup in the air. “To the last night.”

“To the last night,” They echoed.

Belly barely reacted. Conrad was almost impressed when she said, “This is pretty good. Not strong at all.”

Jeremiah burst out laughing. “That’s because yours is ninety-five percent water.”

That would make more sense.

Conrad laughed too, and she glared at them both. “That’s not fair,” Belly said. “I want to drink what you guys are drinking.”

“Sorry, but we don’t serve minors here,” Jeremiah said, taking a seat next to her on the floor.

She punched him on the shoulder. “You’re a minor too, dummy. We all are.”

“Yeah, but you’re really a minor,” he said. “My mom would kill me.”

Conrad felt his face shutter closed when he brought her up. Even the air seemed heavy. The house carried all sorts of memories of her, it was like existing in her presence, but bringing her up was like reminding him that she was actually gone.

Then Belly was on her knees in front of the TV stand searching through the drawers.

“What are you doing?” Jere asked.

“Just wait.” Satisfied she’d found what she was looking for, she took out a disc and put it in the DVD player.

Conrad had insisted to Susannah that they didn’t need a DVD player anymore, not with all the streaming services nowadays, but she would always smile and say that it’s better safe than sorry. He swore that she enjoyed the experience of going to the video store and renting a physical copy. Even if the stores were basically almost extinct now, Cousins still had one.

The TV blinked to life, the video starting to play. His face popped up on the screen. Or Conrad at 12 to be more precise-pimpled and brace-faced. Belly and Jere were laughing, and he leapt at the remote to try and turn the TV off, but Jere got it first, keeping away from it.

Then his mother was on screen, talking to their father with as much exasperation as love. It was hard to watch now that he’d seen how far they’d fallen.

“Turn it off.”

“Come on man, let’s watch.” Jere said.

He wanted to protest, but he also didn’t want to stop looking at his mother, how her brightness blinked out the sun. Except then the camera turned away from Susannah and fell on Belly.

Both Jere and Conrad cracked up immediately at the sight of her. This is why she put it on, to give them a laugh at her expense. His heart warmed for her, even as Jere likened her to a beach ball. Conrad had to agree with the way her cute belly rounded and the colour of her swimmers.

Belly was laughing too. “Watch it.” Her voice turned pensive. “That summer was really great. All our summers here were really … great.”

Conrad poured them all another shot of tequila, and Conrad and Jeremiah couldn’t help the way their sides split when Belly reacted to her non-watered-down shot.

“Suck on the lime,” Conrad gestured to the one on the rim of her drink and she did, shooting him a grateful look.

Maybe it was the tequila, but when she laid out on the floor with her hair fanned out, she looked a bit like an angel. Not for the first time, he imagined how that hair had felt as he slid his hands through it. He let his hand run over the couch as he thought of the last time they’d been here together, remembering where they’d sat, what they’d been doing.

No. He couldn’t think about that. Not too quickly, he got up and went and splashed some water on his face. He wasn’t drunk, but his body felt more relaxed.

As he was coming back in the room, he heard the smack of lips against skin, followed with Belly going, “Mwah.”

“Aw, man!” Jere protested. “That’s not a real kiss.”

“You didn’t specify.” Belly retorted

“Come on, Bells,” he said. “That’s not how we kissed that other time.”

Conrad fully entered the room then. He could have ignored it, could have let it go, but he felt like he’d been rubbed with sandpaper. Conrad wiped his hands on his jeans and said, “What are you talking about, Jere? Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

Belly head snapped in Jere’s direction, and at least Jeremiah had the dignity to look embarrassed. “You have a girlfriend?”

Conrad didn’t know what to make of it, her tone, her look of betrayal and confusion.

Jeremiah stared daggers at him as he explained about his on-off girlfriend Mara who he was currently off with.

“Do you love her?” Belly had been listening intently.

“No.” His response was immediate.

“Okay, my turn. Conrad, truth or dare?”

He was lying on the couch facedown. Despite his objection to playing, their childish persuasion tactics won out. For his truth, Belly asked if he’d ever hooked up with Angie from the boardwalk. She didn’t believe him when he said he hadn’t and so he admitted that he’d tried and got socked for it. Conrad thought Jere might actually fall to the floor in laughter, and Belly was right there laughing with him.

Conrad propped himself up on his elbow. “Okay. My turn.”

Conrad felt like he was staring at her soul through her eyes. It had been so long since he’d looked at her properly. The whole time she’d been here he avoided looking at her like this, because when he did, there was nothing else. It was just them, even with Jere here. It was just them.

Despite the conflict behind her eyes, he knew she felt the same. Then her eyes glanced to Jeremiah, who was looking between them, and the conflict was gone.

With complete seriousness, Belly said, “Nuh-uh. You can’t ask me, ’cause I just asked you. It’s the law.”

“The law?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” She leant her head against the couch.

“Aren’t you at least curious about what I was going to ask?”

There was so much he could have asked her, wanted to ask her. About them. About her and Jeremiah. About her in general. The alcohol in his system allowed him to admit that he’d missed her in these months.

If he was going to ask anything though, he would have asked about the infinity necklace.

He’d caught glimpses of it since she’d been here. At first, it had shaken him. He thought she might have thrown it in the ocean like he’d suggested when he tried to give it to her the first time. But she was still wearing, after all these months.

For the most part, it had been tucked away under her shirts. She never wore it when she was swimming, never with anything that might display it. But when she’d lean over to pick up something, it would slip out of place. She always put it back without thinking. It didn’t seem like she was consciously trying to keep it a secret, more like keeping it hidden had become a practiced habit.  

“Nope. Not even one iota.” She was examining her nails when she spoke, pointedly avoiding his gaze.  

Liar.

Changing the subject, she stood up and tried to toast to the last night-which Jere promptly reminded her that they’d already done that.

She tried again. “Here’s to … here’s to everybody that isn’t here tonight. To my mom, and to Steven, and to Susannah most of all. Okay?”

Conrad looked up to her, his heart pushing and pulling in his chest like the tide, a bittersweet tang. He lifted his cup in the air, and Jere followed suit. They all down their shots and Belly’s face scrunched in disgust.

Then she was asking about the party and what time it was. When Jere said it was an hour or two before people were going to start arriving, she shot up from the floor.

“I have to get dressed!”

She was already rushing towards the staircase as Conrad asked, “Aren’t you already dressed?”

 Like a bullet, she shot upstairs without answering.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

By the time Belly came back downstairs, a sea of summer faces had already appeared in the house. He’d known these people almost all the summers of his life but even their presence couldn’t fill the space in the house left by Susannah. Conrad took a swig of his drink to remember this was a send-off, in more ways than one.

As Belly descended down the stairs, he watched as she replaced a look of irritation with a smile. Conrad didn’t think the smile was fake per say, but there was a forcefulness to it that she never had with a true smile. He’d seen her true smile enough, had enough directed at him as well, to know better.

He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed as she greeted people and started moving throughout the house handing out drinks and collecting cans as if she was a waitress instead of a partygoer.

“What are you doing?” He asked when she was close enough.

“I’m trying to make everyone feel at home.” She gave him a one shouldered shrug before turning to snap at someone with their feet on the tables.

He was going to make some joke when he looked up and saw Nicole talking with Jere in the kitchen. “Shit.”

Belly had seen her at the same time as well. He was worried that she might go over to her. He wasn’t sure how they’d left things after the whole skinny-dipping incident. He remembered vaguely about Belly saying they talked at the ball, but so much happened that night it was hard to remember the specifics.

He hadn’t spoken to Nicole since she had rung him out for wasting her time because he was pining for Belly. The last thing Conrad wanted was for her to see how he’d royally screwed up with her too.  

With one hand he grabbed the tequila bottle and the other he grabbed Belly’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

Conrad wrote off the electricity in her grip as a side effect of the tequila. Her hand still felt the same in his. The heart might forget but the body doesn’t. Conrad gave a little sigh of relief that Belly didn’t drop his hand or push him away. She hadn’t said anything, but her eyes had taken this dreamy quality, and he knew she would come with him.

They’d made it as far as the sliding doors, Conrad’s hand on the handle, when Jere called out, “Guy! Come say hi!”

He and Belly both turned in their direction. Conrad saw how Jere’s eyes fell to where Belly’s and his hands connected. It was so quick that if Conrad had blinked, he would have missed it. But he hadn’t.

He dropped Belly’s hand, the other still firm on the tequila bottle.

Without his hand tethering her down, Belly floated away and embraced Nicole in a tight, unstable hug. “Nicole!”

“Belly!” Nicole hugged her back. Meeting his eyes over Belly’s shoulder, Nicole gave him a little nod in greeting. Nicole held Belly at arm’s length. “Girl, you’re drinkless. There’s no margaritas lying around for you?”

Belly blushed a little bit as she was reminded of the Fourth of July last year and shook her head. The memory also popped into Conrad’s head of a drunk Belly approaching him in the shower.

“Well, that won’t do.” Nicole grabbed a beer and held it out in Belly’s direction. “Here.”

Belly accepted it with a smile, not the forceful one from early, but laid back, easy. She popped the top and lifted it up. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Jere and Nicole took sips of their own drinks.

Belly was drinking another beer before the others had even finished their first. She clearly had not learned from the margarita incident last year.

She skipped over to the speaker and turned up the music and went back to Jere, throwing an arm around his neck and dancing.

“Belly–,” he protested.

“Just dance, Jere!”

Conrad watched Belly’s hand travel down Jere’s arm to grab his hands and pull him to the dancefloor as if it happened in slow motion. Conrad followed slightly only to stop and watch them from his post at the doorway.

Belly looked so free,-spinning and twirling and dancing-giving out smiles like they cost nothing. So many of them were directly at Jeremiah as they danced together. Conrad watched the way his brother’s absorbed her energy and amplified it which only encouraged Belly further. It had never been this way between he and Belly. She always gave, gave, gave, and all he did was take away. Conrad felt a different kind of sadness to the grief he’d let take over him these months.

Belly wiped away the sweat from her brow, “Can we swim in the pool? One last time?”

Jeremiah said, “Screw that. Let’s swim in the ocean.”

“Yeah!” Belly had this feverish look in her eye as if that was the best idea she’d ever heard.

“No,” Conrad said, moving from his position at the wall, closer to her than he needed to, even when he was talking to Jere, “Belly’s drunk. She shouldn’t swim.”

Belly looked at him and frowned. “But I want to.”

It was like a telling a toddler what they could and couldn’t do.

He laughed. “So what?”

“Look, I’m a really good swimmer. And I’m not even drunk.” Belly walked in a line that might have seemed straight to someone who’d been spun around ten times.

Even if she could have walked a straight line, Conrad had already counted her for multiple tequila shots and multiple beers.

“Sorry,” He clicked his tongue, with a little shake of his head. “But you really are.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re no fun.” She looked to Jere. “He’s no fun. And he’s not the boss of us. Right, everybody?”

Then she was streaming out of the house, faster than she’d ever run before.

“Shit.” Conrad couldn’t even think to let go off the tequila bottle before he took off after her.

Conrad had played football, and even though he hadn’t played in a while, he should have been able to catch up with her faster, especially considering the size of his strides. Except chasing Belly felt like he was running through quicksand.

He wondered if he ever would have caught up if she hadn’t stopped and turned around to look at him.

“Come back to the house,” Conrad said.

She didn’t say anything, instead she grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a swig. She was giving him a devilish grin and her eyebrow ticked up as she stepped into the water.

Even though she was barely in the water, he couldn’t help but remember the time he had to save her when she’d swam out too far. His heart was beating just the same as it had then.

“Belly,” he warned, a low growl. “I’m telling you now, I’m not going to pull your dead body out of the ocean when you drown.”

“Are you gonna stop me?”

He sighed and looked back toward the house.

“I mean, ’cause I am a stronger swimmer than you. I’m way, way faster. You probably couldn’t catch me if you wanted to.”

He was looking at her again. She was right. Conrad could chase after her all his life and still not catch up. He wished she’d just come in. “I’m not coming after you.”

“Really? You really aren’t?” It might have been his imagine, the tiny bit of hurt and questioning in her voice.

The water was up to her knees now. He knew he would go after her. He always would. Sometimes, he just wished he didn’t have to.

Down the beach, someone shot off a firework and this time was grateful for a firework to distract them. It gave him the opportunity to move towards her and throw her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Her request was accompanied by the pounding of her hands against his back.

“Belly, you’re drunk.” He didn’t know why he even tried, clearly she was beyond reason at this point.

Again, she demanded, “Put me down right now!”

Fine, if that’s how she wanted it. Conrad dropped her on her ass in the sand without an ounce of grace.

“Ow! That really hurt!”

He raked a hand through his hair. He hated that she was acting like this. He turned towards the house. If Conrad stayed a moment longer, he might yell at her about scaring him, about being reckless.

“Wait!”

He turned around, careful to try and keep his emotions off his face. No point sparing her his anger if he had it all over his face too.

“Just wait a second, please. I need to tell you something. I’m really sorry for the way I acted that day.” Her voice was so achingly sad he had to stop breathing. Belly’s face was flooded with tears. They reflected the moonlight so much it looked like shooting stars were streaking down her face instead. “At … at the funeral, I was awful to you. I was horrible, and I’m so ashamed of how I acted. It wasn’t how I wanted things to go, not at all. I really, really wanted to be there for you. That’s why I came to find you.”

Conrad blinked once and then again. He hadn’t expected her to apologise. In fact, as annoyed that he’d been when she first arrived, she’d been as much a balm to him as an ache. “It’s fine.”

Hopeful eyes met his. “Do you mean it? You forgive me?”

“Yes,” he said. “I forgive you. Now stop crying, all right?”

She’d moved so close that he couldn’t tell if the salt he could smell was from the beach or the tears that were already starting to dry on her face. God, she was so close, but he couldn’t back away either. He should. He should. He should. Except it was so good to be in her orbit again. His body always seemed to thrum with energy when she was close. He wanted to give into it.

She wasn’t breathing. Neither was he. He resisted the urge to look at her lips, it’d be all over if he did that. He couldn’t even imagine what kissing would do to either of them right now. He was suddenly aware of how much they’d both had to drink. It was the only explanation to why he wasn’t thinking clearly, why he wasn’t moving away.

She took another step, and Conrad was brought back to reality. Before anything could happen, he said, “Let’s go back, okay?”

He started to leave before she could reply, and she trailed behind him silently. Conrad found himself wishing she’d say something anyways.  

Perceptive as he was, after they came back in, Jere cleared everyone out. The party was truly over.

Conrad crashed onto the couch facedown. He was so sick of these emotions that weighed down his limbs, he’d take any form of relief at this point.

Jere was complaining about the mess the party had made and how their dad was going to react, and Conrad couldn’t find it in himself to care. It could be a tomorrow problem.  They could clean it, or their dad could hire someone to clean it. It would serve him right for selling the house.

“Your jeans are wet,” Jere said. “You’re getting sand all over the couch.”

Conrad sat up, rubbed his eyes. “What’s your problem?”

Jere looked like he was going to get up and walk away but thought better of it and sat straight back down, his leg bouncing. “What the hell happened outside with you guys?”

“Nothing.” Had Conrad wanted something to happen? He didn’t know. Well, something had happened, Belly was left in tears again and Conrad felt like he’d be ringed out like a sponge too.

“What does that mean, nothing?”

Jere didn’t know when to leave well enough alone. “Nothing means nothing. Just leave it, Jere.”

He figured that’d be it except Jere saddled him with a level stare.

“Do you still like her?”

Conrad couldn’t speak for a moment, he could only stare back. He took in the way that Jere was looking back at him. He wasn’t asking out of curiosity or concern for Conrad and Belly. No, he was asking out of necessity.

Conrad didn’t like Belly. No, he loved her. It was a bitter pill. He couldn’t admit to Belly, even when she looked at him with those piercing eyes. He could barely admit it to himself.  There was no way he could admit it to Jere.

Instead, he asked, “Do you?”

Jere turned red in response. “I’m not the one who took her to the freaking prom.”

That wasn’t an answer, but neither was his response.

Conrad thought that over and then said, “I only took her because she asked me to.”

“Con. Do you like her or not, man?” Jere barely even him time to respond, before adding, “Because I do. I like her. I really like her. Do you?”

There it was, out in the open. Jeremiah liked Belly.

He didn’t blink, didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

Jere scoffed and walked away. They both knew he had lied.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Even without the morning light seeping into his room, Conrad would have woken up early. The emotions from his conversations with Belly and Jere last night and the fact that today was truly the last day in the beach house suffocated him like a blanket he couldn’t kick off. If he stayed in bed and did nothing, he was worried that the weight would actually crush him. Instead, he wandered downstairs and started cleaning, just to keep his handles busy.

The party had seemed like a good idea last night, but in its wake, it just made the house feel emptier and wrong, seeing his mother’s beach house trashed. He thought they would come back to this house every year for the rest of his life, just like Susannah had. Now, these were going to be his last memories of the house-random people filling up the house and making a mess, Jeremiah and Belly dancing together and the conversation with Belly on the beach.

It was all his dad’s fault. The selfish prick thinking he knows what’s good for them, what Susannah would have really wanted. Adam had acted like being there for Susannah in her last weeks was enough for the time he was absent in their marriage. He crushed a beer can in his hands and thought about pegging it against the wall. It was only his mother’s memory that stopped him.

When the previously locked front door swung open, Conrad’s head snapped in its direction. “Laurel?”

She was the most unkept he had ever seen her, her clothes mismatched like they’d been put on in a hurry and her hair was mostly up, but some bits were hanging out.

“Where is she?”

“Who? Belly?”

Her eyes could have melted him on the spot. “Yes, Conrad. Where’s Belly?”

Conrad would not risk being eviscerated by Laurel this early in the morning. He gestured upstairs. “I think she’s still asleep in her room.”

Laurel took two steps at a time.

Even downstairs, Conrad could hear their arguing. Laurel was insisting that they leave immediately, and Belly was trying to explain that they needed her here, that Adam was selling the house. Even Conrad flinched when Laurel insinuated that Belly was just here to get drunk and fool around with him.

When all her attempts to reason with her mother, to explain, failed and only made Laurel angrier, Belly said, “Susannah will never forgive you for this, you know. For losing her house. For letting down her boys.”

The slap resounded throughout the house.

Conrad froze. It felt like even the wind outside did, too. That sound was so foreign in this house. It did not belong. Throughout their summers, the kids had definitely slapped each other on occasion when play fighting or playing games. But this one was full of malice, and that was one thing that hadn’t existed in this house before.

When the sound of Belly’s steps came rushing down the stairs, Conrad forced himself not to look at her, forced his hands to reach and pick up more beer cans. Conrad knew that she wouldn’t want them to see her like this. He knew that she would go to the beach to be alone for comfort only the ocean could offer.

He was able to finish cleaning the lounge room before his hands started shaking. He sequestered himself to his room so he wouldn’t have to hide them, sitting on his bed and staring as they tremored. Maybe they had grown tired of letting everything slip through them, so they weren’t going to bother being stable at all.

He had come here to save the house, and he hadn’t even done that. Belly and Jere had come here to help him, and now they were all leaving worse off than when they arrived. Belly had looked like she’d taken an emotional beating after their conversation last night and got a physical beating this morning. All because of him.

Conrad wanted to blame his dad, wanted to twist this disaster against him, except a kernel of anger ignited for Susannah. If she hadn’t died, none of this would be happening. The house would be fine. He and Belly would be fine. He and Jere would be fine. Their whole family would be okay. Instead, they were mourning her and falling apart at the seams.

All this time, Conrad had tried to ignore that this anger existed for his mother. It wasn’t fair to be mad at someone who’s dead, who can’t be here to get you to forgive them. But how could he forgive her for dying?

His growling stomach eventually forced him back downstairs. Belly was in the shower, and Jeremiah’s car was missing from the driveway, so Laurel was alone in the kitchen when he walked in.

“Conrad.” She gave him assessing glare.

He nodded. “Laurel.”

He wasn’t even sure how to interact with her now. He noted that she looked a lot more put together than she had when she arrived this morning. Her hair was pulled up into a familiar, slicked-back bun, she’d found some different clothes to put on and he ached wondering if they had been Susannah’s clothes.

She pat the seat next to her at the counter. Accepting her invitation, he slid into the seat.

“Your dad’s coming over soon. For breakfast.”

Conrad shook his head and went to stand up, but Laurel’s hand on his forearm stopped him.

“Conrad, I know you hate your father right now, but I’m going to do what I can to try and stop the sale.” Laurel must have seen the hope light up in his eyes because she added, “I can’t make any promises. Legally, he has every right to do what he wants with the house, but I can at least talk to him about it.”

Conrad wanted to speak. He wanted to thank her, except the words couldn’t make it passed the lump of emotion in his throat. Laurel looked at him like she knew what he was trying to say anyways. He sometimes forgot that she was his Laurel. Of course, she knew.

With a small and quiet voice, she sighed. “It’s what Beck would have wanted.”

He managed it then. “Thank you, Laure.”

Belly came into the kitchen then, looking better. He could just smell her shampoo over the muffins in the over. Or maybe he was imagining it.

After Laurel burnt herself taking the muffins out of the tray and dropping them on the floor, she put them back in a basket to give to his dad anyways and ran her finger under cold water. Conrad felt smug satisfaction at that.

Laurel offered a muffin to Belly who all but inhaled the thing and then Laurel said, “You and Conrad take the recycling out.”

Without a word, Conrad picked up two of the heavier bags and left the half-empty one for Belly to take. They walked out to the trashcans, Belly trailing slightly behind.

“Did you call her?” Conrad asked. It seemed like an obvious question. He didn’t call Laurel, and he doubted that she’d be first up on Jere’s call list. Of course, it would have been Belly.

She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, suspicion laid behind them, “I guess I did.”

Simply, he said. “Thanks.”

Her eyes widened a little bit and she stared at him. “Sometimes you surprise me.”

He didn’t look at her when he said, “And you hardly ever surprise me. You’re still the same.”

He meant it as a compliment. Of all the things that had changed, Belly was always the same. Conrad had heard once that when gymnasts or dancers performed certain tricks that required lots of spinning, they had to pick something to focus on—something unmoving, unchanging–so they don’t lose their balance. In a storm, Conrad thought he might pick Belly as his something.

Except she clearly didn’t take it as compliment. “Thanks a lot.” She dumped the garbage bag in the bin and shut the lid a little too hard.

“No, I mean …”

She looked at him waiting for him to finish his sentence. Conrad opened his mouth to say something except then Jere was bounding out of his car with grocery bags in his hand.

Belly and Jere greeted each other. Belly couldn’t even look at him, but Jere reached out and gave her hand a squeeze and thanked her. Conrad let his gaze fall to the ground.

Then they all walked inside together and cooked in cleaned in preparation for his father.

His father was an unsuspecting victim of Laurel, lured in by the sight of a feast and the assumption she was here to create order like she’d always done. She immediately set him straight. She was here for Beck’s boys.

Conrad nearly jumped across the table and rung his father’s neck when Adam said that the house wasn’t part Laurel’s too. Belly’s jaw even dropped.

Despite the insult and her reddening face, Laurel was still firm and calm. When his father got up to leave, saying he wasn’t going to argue with her, she ordered him back to his seat and kicked the kids out. It was time for the adults to speak alone.

Conrad opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it when he saw the red-hot flames behind Laurel’s eyes that melted Adam back into his seat.

He, Belly and Jere rushed out of the kitchen. He felt much younger then, sitting at the top of the stairs, straining to hear the adults talk. Conrad sat at the very top stair, while Belly and Jere shared the one below.

“What the hell, Laurel? Did you really think you could railroad me into changing my mind?” His father huffed.

“Excuse me, but fuck you.”

Go Laurel.

Belly slapped a hand over her mouth.

Conrad felt vindicated. To hear someone talk to his father with the same rage in their tone as Conrad had felt in his heart was just so… satisfying. To have that person be someone he respected as much as Laurel? Oh, that was just the cherry on top.

Below him, Jere’s head was ducked like he might cry, or be sick. Or both. Conrad watched as Belly grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Jere tried to pull away, but she held tighter. Conrad blinked. Then he looked away.

Laurel went in, telling his father everything that needed to be said. The house was for them, the boys. She would stop him if she had to. Conrad didn’t want to acknowledge the small chips that formed around his heart when his father’s voice gave away his own grief over the wife he’d lost.

“She’s everywhere here. She’s everywhere.”

Laurel’s voice verged on gentle, “I know. But Adam? You were a sorry excuse for a husband. But she loved you. She really did. She took you back. I tried to talk her out of it, God knows I tried. But she wouldn’t listen, because when she sets her mind on someone, that’s it. And she set her mind on you, Adam. Earn that. Prove me wrong.”

Conrad knew his father had said something, but even straining his ears to listen was not enough to catch it.  And then Laurel said, “You do this one last thing for her. Okay?”

Belly turned up to look at him, and Conrad thinking out loud rather than saying it to her specifically, “Laurel is amazing.”

There was understanding in her eyes. “Yeah, she is. So was Susannah.”

Conrad looked at her. He was reminded that Belly was one of the only other people in this world that loved his mother as ferociously as he and Jere, that when she said she was amazing it was because she had truly known Susannah. Conrad was also reminded that if Belly had not been here, neither would have Laurel, and Conrad would have lost this house with everything else he’d lost and given up.

Laurel had Adam. By this point, it was obvious. He didn’t need to listen to the rest. He got up and went to his room.

Conrad cried in relief.

When Jere came and got him later, saying his father had asked for him, he was sure the other shoe had dropped. He kept his face neutral. He couldn’t let anyone see what was stirring beneath.

“I’ll make you a deal,” his father said, sitting at the table like it was his desk at the bank and Conrad was just some person asking for a loan instead of his son.

Warily, Conrad said, “What do you want? My trust fund?”

His father’s jaw tightened. “No. I want you back at school tomorrow. I want you to finish your exams. If you do that, the house is yours. Yours and Jeremiah’s.”

Jere cheered and grabbed their father in a hug. Conrad was not so easy excited. “What’s the catch?” Conrad asked.

“No catch. But you have to make at least Cs. No Ds or Fs. Do we have a deal?”

“I haven’t studied,” he said. “I might not pass.”

Conrad didn’t know why he couldn’t just take the win. Even despite the difficulty of his courses, he’d been able to maintain his good grades-excellent even. He had time to figure it out, even if he only got Cs, they’d be able to keep the house. Except his father’s response was important to him, the make of a man.

“Then no deal,” His father said. “Those are the terms.”

Conrad squinted his eyes. Exactly what he thought Adam would say.

Urgently, Jeremiah said, “Con, just say yes, man. We’ll help you study. Won’t we, Belly?”

Conrad looked at Belly. Would she be allowed to stay? Would she even want to? Belly had done so much to help him in the last couple days, and it had mostly just backfired on her.

None of this even seemed to occur to her. Belly turned to Laurel without hesitation. “Can I, Mom?”

Laurel nodded. “You can stay, but you have to be home tomorrow.”

Belly turned back to him with a little nod. “Take the deal.”

Well, if even Belly agreed. “All right,” he said at last.

“Shake on it like a man, then,” Adam said, holding out his hand. Conrad refrained from rolling his eyes. He’d always thought that phrase was dumb. Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw Laurel mockingly mouth it too.

Reluctantly, Conrad extended his arm and they shook.

“Thanks, Dad,” Jeremiah said. “Really, thanks.”

“I need to get back to the city.” Then he nodded at Belly. “Thanks for helping Conrad, Belly.”

 “You’re welcome.” It seemed like it was an automatic response—it’s what you say when someone thanks you. Except she took on this pensive look afterwards, and Conrad wondered what she was thinking about.

Laurel left not long after Adam, except she at least helped clean up after breakfast.

The three kids walked her to her car.

“You boys will get her home tomorrow?” she asked, throwing her bag onto the passenger seat.

“Definitely,” Jeremiah said.

Then Conrad said, “Laurel.” He hesitated. “You’re coming back, aren’t you?”

Laurel looked so surprised that he’d say that, it almost broke his heart. This house was barely a house without the Conklins. The shambles of it only just survived the disappearance of Susannah, it would shatter without her, without them.

“You want an old lady like me around?” she asked. “Sure, I’ll be back whenever you’ll have me.”

“When?” His voice sounded small, like a child needing to be cared for. He needed to make sure she’d be back. It’s what Susannah would want.

Then, in a gesture that was so much like his mother he wanted to cry, Laurel touched his cheek. If he closed his eyes, he could’ve pretended it was her. He leaned into it slightly.

 “Before the summer’s over,” She said, “And I’ll come back to close the house up too.”

Then Laurel was driving away and the house was still standing and he was here with Jere and Belly and Conrad felt kind of okay.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

After the parents left, Conrad and Jere crashed like a bunch of rocks. Belly tried to get them to stay awake at first, throwing a pillow at him and saying he needed to study if he actually was going to meet his end of the deal. It took some convincing, but the boys wore her down and she agreed to let them nap for an hour.

While he slept, he dreamt of a time at the start of the semester when he and Belly video chatting. It was during that brief period of time when everything was good—he and Belly had just started calling each other more regularly, his mum was responding to the treatment and uni was just getting started.

Conrad had been out running when he found this lookout point that just looked over anything. Dusk was just settling over the city, so the sky was still colourful, and lights were twinkling as they were being turned on for the night. Everything just glowed in a way that made even the mundane look extraordinary. Conrad wanted to inhale it.

Belly called then and Conrad answered straight away, despite being slightly out of breath and sweaty.

“Bells!” He didn’t use that nickname with her often, but it had felt right in the moment. He liked the way she would try to hide the smile it caused.

“Look who’s finally somewhere other than the library.”  She quirked a mocking eyebrow.

“What can I say? I needed a change of scenery.” Conrad was glad she called. He wouldn’t have thought to call her in the moment, but now they were talking, he realised that she was the perfect addition to the landscape.

He just took her in through the phone. His heart was still beating fast from his run.

She leaned closer to the phone as if trying to inspect the background. “Where even are you anyways?”

“Have a look for yourself.” He flipped the camera.

“Oh, Conrad. It’s amazing.” She cooed.

Conrad flipped the camera around and they shared a smile. “Isn’t it?”

What wasn’t amazing was Belly waking him up by spraying water in his eye.

He jolted up straight away. “Hey.”

He used the bottom of his shirt to dry his face.

An innocent smile appeared on her face as she sang, “Rise and shine.”

She had a much harder time waking up Jere. He’d always been the kind of guy who could sleep through a bomb warning, so she had to resort to dumping the whole contents of the spray bottle on his face.

As she walked them to the kitchen, she explained that she’d given them an additional half an hour to sleep. As they entered the threshold, it was clear that Belly had been busy while they’d been sleeping. She’d gotten his laptop from his room and the textbooks that they’d brought down for him. The whole room was better than any study group layout he’d ever seen before. Pens, paper, binders, books, lamps. It was all hear and organised by subject.

“What the—” Conrad said.

Jeremiah clapped his hands together and high fived Belly. “You’re amazing,” he said. His and Jere’s noses must have picked up the smell at the same time as both of their heads snapped to the McDonald’s. “Yes! Mickey D’s cheeseburgers! I’d know that smell anywhere.”

Belly smacked Jere’s hand as he reached out to grab one. “Not yet. There is a reward system in place here. Conrad studies, and then he gets food.”

Jeremiah frowned. “What about me?”

“Conrad studies, and you get food.”

Conrad raised his eyebrows at Belly. “A reward system, huh? What else do I get?”

She turned pink, and mumbled, “Just the cheeseburgers.”

Conrad let his eyes run down her from head to toe and considered what other reward systems he’d be open to Belly offering as a bit of encouragement to study. An item of clothing for a correct answer maybe? If Jere wasn’t here…

He didn’t try to hide his appraising look, —Hell, he had done it when she was looking right at him—so Conrad was slightly satisfied when her pink cheeks transitioned to red.

“As much as I like the sound of a reward system, I’m gonna pass,” he said at last.

“What are you talking about?” Jeremiah asked.

Conrad shrugged. “I study better on my own. I’ve got it covered. You guys can go.”

Jeremiah shook his head in disgust. “Just like always. You can’t handle asking for help. Well, sucks to be you, ’cause we’re staying.”

“What do you guys know about freshman psych?” Conrad said, crossing his arms.

Jeremiah sprang up. “We’ll figure it out.” He winked at me. “Bells, can we eat first? I need grease.”

Reaching into the bag, Belly said, “One each. That’s it.”

After they ate their cheeseburgers, he let Belly run the show. It was fun to watch her in charge for once. Conrad was going to read, Belly was going to make note cards and Jere was going to highlight, until the boys said that it’s probably better if she did the highlighting. For the first time in a while, Conrad let others help him.

After Belly was satisfied that were done with the psychology stuff, she let Conrad put on his headphone and work on his English paper.

The music had been in between songs when Conrad heard the tail end of Belly and Jere’s conversation.

Jere was saying, “We weren’t that serious, trust me. She was just a girl.” He was probably talking about Mara. “It wasn’t like how it was with Conrad and—”

He let his eyes briefly look up from his screen, just in time to see Belly flinch a little and Jere let the conversation drop. Conrad darted his eyes back to his screen, not wanting either of them to know he’d heard them.

Was Jere really implying that what Conrad had had with Aubrey was something serious? Conrad guessed that it had felt serious at the time, but it was nothing like what Conrad and Belly had. Jere had never seen any of it and for multiple reasons too. When he’d dated Aubrey, they’d all gone to the same school and lived in the same town, it was obvious when they were together, and then it was obvious when they weren’t. With Belly, Conrad was in college, and they lived in different states. What Belly and Conrad had, was private and it was between them. Jere wouldn’t know about any of it.

Conrad figured it was like the quote from that Jane Austen book his mum had been so obsessed with that she tried to make 13-year-old Belly read it too, if he loved her less, maybe he’d be able to talk about it more.

Conrad didn’t even remember if he slept that night. Belly had tapped out at around 4AM. After that, he remembered going to his room, remembered getting changed into fresh clothes at some point, but he can’t remember if he’d slept in those couple of hours because he was right in the same place Belly had left him in when she’d gone to bed when she came back down.

She’d walked in and was about to walk right back out when he looked up. She was still in her pyjamas.

Belly used to always wear a big t-shirt to bed but not today, today she was wearing something different. Her hair was mussed from the night’s sleep, but she was wearing these matching little pink shorts and tank top that were covered in tiny red love hearts.

“Nice pjs,” he said. His face was neutral when he said it, but they did make him want to pick her up and take her somewhere private.

Her face matched the colour of the hearts, and she fiddled with the hem of her shirt. Scowling, Belly said, “We’re leaving in twenty minutes, so be ready.”

She was already heading upstairs when Conrad said to himself, “I already am.”

She looked so unsuspecting as she started locking up the house. Both Jere and Conrad were watching her do it.

Then Conrad turned to Jere with a mischievous look he felt like he hadn’t expressed in months, “Should we?”

Belly turned around, started to say, “Should we what?”

Jere returned the look, and Conrad knew he didn’t have to explain what he was thinking, Jere was thinking the exact same thing.

“Yeah. For old times’ sake,” Jeremiah said.

Realisation dawned on her face. “No way,” She was backing away from them but there was nowhere to go. “No freaking way.”

She squealed and squirmed as Conrad grabbed her arms and Jere took her legs, sending her into the pool with a splash.

The boys were laughing when Belly resurfaced, and like she’d done every year, she splashed back at them in anger and yelled, “Jerks.”

Which only made them laugh harder.

When she came back out, she was wearing a sundress. Conrad noted that it was the first time he could see the infinity necklace just out in the open. It glinted in the sunlight. He wondered if she even noticed. They’d already been packing up to leave when they’d thrown her in the pool, and she was rushing to change and get going.

But still, he filed the information away. It was something important.

They took one car so Conrad could study in the back. They were all quiet as they started to leave Cousins. No one said anything, but Conrad could tell that they were all thinking about Susannah.

Eventually the quiet stopped when Belly turned up the music, and she and Jere sang together.

Jere serenaded Belly in the front seat, “And tell me how they got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame, girl.”

She put her hand on her heart and fake-swooned for him, like a groupie.

“Fast fast slow, whichever way you wanna run, girl.”

Belly backed him up at the chorus. “This just can’t be summer love …”

Conrad was going to throw up if he had to listen or watch anymore of this.

From the backseat, he growled, “Can you guys please turn the music down? I’m trying to study here, remember?”

“Oh, sorry. Is it bothering you?” She wasn’t sticking her tongue out at him, but she may as well have been with the tone she used.

He just narrowed his eyes at her in response.

Conrad caved to sleep not long after that, coming back to consciousness as Belly and Jere were hopping into the car after Jere had filled up the tank. Conrad was still a little blurry eyed in the back.

Belly must have gone inside to the convenience store as she was carrying two Slurpees. She was sipping out of one and handing the other to Jere.

“Aw, thanks, Bells. What flavour did you get me?” He asked.

“Drink it and see.”

He took a long sip and nodded appreciatively. “Half Coke, half cherry, your specialty. Nice.”

Belly settled back into her seat, putting her feet up on the dashboard.

From the back, Conrad said, irritably, “Where’s mine?”

“I thought you were still asleep,” Belly replied matter-of-factly. “And you have to drink a Slurpee right away or it’ll melt, so … I didn’t see the point.”

Conrad glared at her. “Well, at least let me have a sip.”

“But you hate Slurpees.” Which was true. Conrad didn’t like sugary drinks, he never had.

“I don’t care. I’m thirsty.”

Belly handed him her cup, turning around. The drink was so sweet, exactly something that Belly would enjoy. He let the taste roll over his tongue and didn’t react because Belly was watching him expectantly.

He put his hand out to give it back and their hands touched, sparking between them. As she started to pull the drink back, he held it a fraction of a second longer. And then he said, “I thought your specialty was cocoa.”

She stared at him with her mouth slightly ajar, likely thinking back on their Christmas in Cousins where she’d said exactly that.

Conrad stared right back at her, and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something, say something except she just closed her mouth and looked away.

He took out his note cards to keep studying, and Belly looked out the window. The car was quiet.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Ecstatic. That’s how Conrad felt after his first exam. Despite the last-minute preparation, despite running away to Cousins, he had flown through the test with the confidence of an expert in the field.

Jere and Belly had camped out on the lawn near where they had parked when they originally arrived at the university. Conrad’s walked over to them fast. He couldn’t wait to tell them.

He could feel his eyes gleaming as he said, “I killed it.”

And then, for the first time in so long, Conrad smiled in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to since Susannah had died, maybe even before that. It was big. It was shining. It was joyful. But, most of all, it was unrestrained. He and Jere high-fived so hard it was like a clap of thunder.

Then, there was Belly. He felt his joy reflect on her and bounce back tenfold. She was proud of him. She was happy for him. Belly was here. His heart might’ve exploded. He grabbed her and whirled her round so fast. This was the kind of joy that even Conrad couldn’t push down.

She was laughing and it was like music to his ears. “See? See? I told you.”

She knew. She always knew.

He had to hold her, to touch her, to be near her. So, not for the first time in the last couple days, Conrad threw Belly over his shoulder. This time neither of them were upset. They weren’t yelling or raging or crying. Instead, she was laughing as he ran around with her like she was a football, and he was evading the opposition to get her to the end zone.

Eventually, she shrieked for him to put her down, concerned about her sundress.

He set her down, gently, in front of him. They were close, and breathless, and laughing. Conrad hadn’t removed his hands from her waist. Not yet.

“Thanks,” His voice was low—his words only meant for her ears to hear. “For coming.”

All of this was possible because of Belly. The house had been saved. He wasn’t going to be kicked out of summer school. Every good thing he had left was because of her. He was such a moron to give her up, let her get away.

His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second. His blood thrummed. He wanted to kiss her. Not a sweet gentle kiss either. He wanted to give her a hair-in-hands, impossibly close kiss to show her just how thankful he was to her. For coming. For being here. For existing.

One second more and he might’ve just done that if Jere hadn’t come over and said in an unusually strained voice, “You still have one left, Con.”

Belly straightened her dress.

Conrad looked at his watch. “You’re right. I’m gonna head over to the psychology department. This will be a quick one. I’ll meet up with you guys in an hour or so.”

Conrad rode that high all through his next exam and, just like his psychology exam, he felt like he nailed that one too. Like he’d said, it had taken no time at all to finish up, so he all but skipped backed to the car.

He’d made a decision about Belly. He didn’t want to waste another minute—another second—without her. After all this turmoil about his mum and their relationship, he wanted to give into his feelings for Belly. Of course, he was still all mixed up about Susannah’s death, but that shouldn’t stop him from finding happiness with Belly too. He could lean on her. She could lean on him. Together, they could get through it all.

Conrad didn’t know what he’d been doing when he walked up on the car, otherwise he might have spotted them sooner, might have been able to turn away, but he he'd been distracted. He only saw them when he was right at the hood of the car.

The world that had just started falling back into place dropped out from underneath him. Jeremiah and Belly were making out in the car. Conrad felt unstable. He felt ill. He put a hand out on the hood to keep his balance, not trusting his feet to do so.

It must have made some noise because they sprang apart from each other. Jere looked mostly pretty guilty, but Conrad could also see a glimmer of satisfaction under there. Conrad had known that Jere liked Belly, so kissing her was probably everything he’d hoped for, even despite the fact they’d been caught out. Belly, on the other hand, looked downright horrified. She was covering her mouth, eyes wide, conveying her apologies. Except, her hair was mussed because Jere’s hands had just been in it and her face was flushed from kissing. They must have been doing it for a while for her to look like that.

Conrad’s shock made way to anger. He said, “No, don’t stop. I’m the one who’s interrupting.”

He turned on his heel. He had no idea where he was going but he could not be there another moment.

Over the blood rushing in his ears, he heard the sound of the car door open, and Belly call his name. He didn’t turn around, not until she grabbed his arm. The hate that was welling up in him must have made it to his eyes because Belly winced when he looked at her.

“So you like Jeremiah now?”

He asked to be cruel, to be sarcastic, and the look on her face suggested that he succeeded, but his voice also betrayed that his chest was caving in on itself. He needed her to answer. He wanted her to say no. He was desperate for her to say no.

Instead, Belly gave a frantic little shrug, shaking her head, and said, “I don’t know. Does it matter to you if I do?”

Of course, it mattered to him. How come she couldn’t see that?

Conrad stared at her, and then he leaned forward and touched the necklace around Belly’s neck. It had been hidden since he’d come back from this exam. She’d gotten a Brown jumper and put it over her dress.

“If you like Jeremiah, why are you wearing my necklace?”

She froze. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

If it hadn’t meant anything, Belly wouldn’t still be wearing it, especially because of everything that had happened between them. They’d been broken up for months. They’d said cruel and disgusting things to each other at the funeral. Despite all of that, she was showing up to the Cousins house months later to help him, and the necklace was still hanging from her neck.

He let the pendant drop from his fingers. “You know what it means.”

They’d never talked about it, not even when he’d given it to her-twice. He’d never told her how much time he’d spent looking for something that was just right to give her before he found the infinity necklace for her at Tiffany’s. How perfect it had been because he was the one to explain the concept to her. He didn’t need to tell her because Belly would know.

The necklace was a confession. It was his confession. He’d paid attention to her all this time. He had loved her all this time, even if he didn’t know it at first. Giving it to her was him announcing that he’d finally realised.

It meant that he loved her. It meant that she loved him.

She shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Then give it back.”

She physically took a step back at his request, her eyebrows knitted. He watched the heartbreak play out on her face and he waited for an argument or plea to fall from her gaping lips. Except then her face shuttered closed to him in a way he’d never experienced before. It was like she’d reached some understanding about him, about them, that she'd never realised before this moment.With shaking hands, she struggled to unlatch the necklace from her neck. When she got it, she dropped it in his palm. Suddenly it was the heaviest thing he had ever carried.

Surprised registered on his face for the tiniest moment before he was able to control his face and slip on that cold, cool face he’d perfected to hide the cracks.

He stuffed the necklace into his pocket. “Then leave,” he said.

When she didn’t move, he said, sharply, “Go!”

Belly looked frozen on the spot, but Conrad couldn’t be in her presence anymore. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hide his evaporating heart from her any longer. Instead, he let his anger take over.

“Go to Jeremiah. He’s the one who wants you,” Conrad said. “I don’t. I never did.”

His words were whips that found their mark. Belly recoiled in pain, and she stumbled away.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

By the time Conrad arrived back at the car, Jere was pacing-the nail of his thumb in his mouth. Even after half of an hour of walking his anger off, he still watched to punch Jere’s face into oblivion when he saw it. However, Conrad still needed a ride. They had all come in the one car, so they’d all have to leave in the same one too.

Jere noticed him then. “Where did you guys go?? Where’s Belly?”

So, she hadn’t come running straight back to Jeremiah after Conrad sent her away? Conrad didn’t know if that provided him any solace or not.

He didn’t hold back the bite from his voice when he said, “You’re not keeping tabs on your new girlfriend, Jere? Pity. You never know what you might lose when your back’s turned.”

Jere dropped his gaze and rubbed the back of his neck, “Con, man, don’t be like that.”

Conrad hopped back in the car and let the slam of the door speak for him. He couldn’t tell if the car was hot, or he was, so he would down the window.

Jere leaned in, his arms folded and braced on the door, trying to get Conrad to look at him. He didn’t.

“Connie… It’s Belly…”

He said it as if that was an explanation. It’s the fact that it was Belly that had driven him off the ledge. It was Belly. It was his Belly. It was his girl, and Jeremiah was just… some asshole. Some asshole who acted like he knew everything and everyone better than they knew themselves.

Every time Conrad thought of opening his mouth and saying something, the image of them all entangled popped back into his brain like it’d been branded there, and like a bull, he saw red.

Instead, he sat in the back. Quietly. His jaw clenched so tight if he was in his right mind, he’d worry some teeth would break.

Belly didn’t come back for some time. It was so long, in fact, that when he saw her in the distance walking to the car, the first emotion that came flooding through was relief. Everything else crashed over him in the next breath.

Jere let her drive.

Conrad couldn’t look at either of them, couldn’t speak, and no one else tried either. They just sat in silence in the car, even the music felt like it had stopped existing.

They had been driving for a while before they rain started hitting. Belly tried to drive through it, but when traffic started to slow to a stop, they decided to pull over at a gas station and wait it out.

They waited. And waited. And waited. But the sky did not let up, determined to make this miserable day stretch as far as it could.

At one point, Belly’s belly growled so loud, they could all hear it over the thunderous rain. She tried to cover the noise with a cough. Jere jumped out and ran in the gas station and when he came back, through her some snacks.

Conrad rolled his eyes.

“There’s a motel a few miles down,” Jere said, wiping his rain- soaked forehead with the back of his arm.

“Let’s just wait it out,” Conrad said. It was the first time he’d spoken since they’d left.

“Dude, the highway’s pretty much shut down. There’s no point. I say we just crash for a few hours and leave in the morning.”

Conrad didn’t say anything. Neither did Belly, who was inhaling the snacks like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“Belly, what do you want to do?” Jeremiah said it very politely, it wasn’t the kind of formal tone you used with someone you’d known your whole life and grown up with. There was an air of separation to it.

“I don’t care. Do whatever you want.”

By midnight, they were stumbling into a hotel room.

The boys let Belly take the bed, setting up to sleep on the floor on either side of it. She’d try to argue at first because there was two of them and they could share. Jere just told her to take it because she was the girl. The Belly Conrad knew would have fought it a little more, especially since Jere phrased it like that, but the day must have taken it out of her because she accepted it without another word.

They all slid into their respective beds.

Conrad’s mind wandered to the day’s events. He’d been able to avoid really thinking about it all day in the car, focusing on the world that passed or the raindrops that fell, but now, in this silence, trying to fall asleep, there was no escape.

Is this what Belly had felt when she had seen him and Aubrey together in the dark basement? They hadn’t been doing anything close to what her and Jere had been doing, except if she had felt a fraction of what he felt now, it’s no wonder she acted like that.

Every word from their conversation replayed in his mind on a loop, and he scrunched his eyes closed tighter to make them go away. Regret was fighting for dominance of all the other emotions, and it was winning. The things he’d said in anger had found their marks, but they were cruel and untrue.

In the room, Jere started to snore, and Conrad could hear Belly huff slightly in annoyance. She turned over, facing in his direction. They couldn’t see each other, but he had to say something.

He swallowed, his voice, a whisper. “Earlier, when I said I never wanted you. I didn’t mean it.”

It was one of the worst things he’d ever said. He couldn’t let it linger between them any longer than it already had. She needed to know that it wasn’t true. Even if he was still mad at the both of them, Conrad thought he might breakdown if he didn’t say it out loud.

She didn’t say anything. Conrad wasn’t even sure she was breathing.

He said it again to reassure her it wasn’t something she’d imagined. “I didn’t mean it.”

He thought he might say more. He even opened his mouth a couple of times to say something, but nothing came out. Because he had no idea what he wanted to say.

So, all he said was, “Good night, Belly.”

He couldn’t sleep that night- the events of everything that happened between them played like some sort of movie in his head. Screaming, crying, laughing, kissing. There was as much love as there was hate in their story.

If he just thought about what he truly wanted, it always came back to her. Belly.

Except it wasn’t that simple. Looking back on everything had happened, Conrad noticed a trend. He was the problem. Sure, Belly had caused her share of difficulties and misunderstandings between them, but most of them were a reaction to him, to his feelings and actions. Conrad had a history of pulling her close and pushing her away.

As the hours ticked by on the clock, let the realisation roll over him like a sickness. It wasn’t right what he was doing to her. How could he justify lashing out at her for trying to be with someone who was open and honest and unfailing when all he’d done is confused her? Even if that someone was his brother.

He knew if he said that he wanted to be together, she’d say yes-if the necklace in his pocket was any indication. Everything in his body ached for him to say it now, to reach over and touch the hand that dangled from the bed and tell her he loved her and none of it mattered, and they could be together. They’d kiss and everything would be right in the world again. But for how long?

Conrad was still messed up about Susannah’s death. Like a ghost, it haunted him. At times, he felt he needed an exorcist to expel the violent and shaking anger from his body. In others, he felt like he needed an altar devote his sorrow. Conrad often found himself begging for God—any god—to correct their mistake. How could Conrad even come to terms of a world without Susannah?

And by that time, he’d remembered his promise to his mum too—the one to look after Jere and take care of him.

His heart and his head were split into two. So, Conrad would do what he always did when they were in opposition, and side with his head.

He would let Belly go. He would let Jere be with her. He would keep his promise to his mother, and he would protect Belly from himself. Conrad wouldn’t drag her down with him anymore. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, and she deserved better than that. Belly deserved everything that he couldn’t give her right now, but Jeremiah could.

If he had to let her go to be with anyone, at least he knew that Jere loved her like the whole summer family did. He’d take care of her.

The next morning, Conrad told Jere it was okay with him that Jere liked Belly as long as he took care of her. Then when Belly came out and looked at him with hopeful eyes, he kept his face blank, and the love in her eyes sputtered and blinked out. Conrad had killed it, and a little bit of his own heart withered and died with it.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

“Conrad, are you even listening?”

He wasn’t. He was staring at his textbook, but his mind was somewhere else. His dad had texted him and Jere saying that he wanted to have a family dinner soon. It’d been a couple months since their last one which had been sometime between Susannah’s death and Adam trying to sell the Cousins’ house.

He twirled his pen in his fingers.  “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

Joshua kicked him under the table, forcing him to look up at his study group, most of which were staring at him, arms crossed.

“Okay, I deserved that.” Conrad rubbed at his shin a little bit. “What are we talking about?”

“Transferring.” Olivia gave him a sympathetic smile. “Have you thought about it?”

Conrad rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Brown’s a good school.”

Andrew shrugged and said, “Yeah, but don’t you want to be at a great school.”

Conrad nodded. He hadn’t thought about it all that much. The last year and a bit of university had just kind of happened to him. If his mother hadn’t gotten sick and died and everything else hadn’t gone to shit, Conrad wondered if he’d already have a transfer lined up. Hard to say. Now their family was held together by sticky tape in the aftermath and Conrad didn’t know whether to stay close or run further away.

Calling Laure had become this thing that ended up happening all the time without Conrad even realising it. It was mostly when he missed his mum, or he needed some motherly advice. He wasn’t sure that the advice that Laurel gave him was ever really that motherly. She didn’t have that soft touch that Susannah used to have—which was comforting in some ways but painful in others—but she always gave it straight.

That had been laughing about something Steven had done in front of the Dean of admissions when Conrad heard overly excited knocking at the door from Laurel’s end of the phone.

“Is that the man himself?” Conrad asked still laughing.

On the other end, he heard the giddy noise of Belly’s laugh, and Conrad let the sound wash over him with closed eyes. He tried to ignore the icicles that churned in his stomach at the same time warmth spread in his chest.

Slightly muffled, Belly said, “Mum! Look who’s here.”

“Laure!” Jere.

The warmth was gone now, and only ice remained.

Laure, temporarily distracted from their conversation, was greeting his brother, and Conrad couldn’t do anything but listen to how they all laughed together like it was the most natural thing in the world. It shouldn’t have felt so alienating. They had all known each other forever. It shouldn’t have been that different from when they interacted at the beach house without him. Except Conrad remembered when it was him, remembered when he was the one driving down from uni to surprise Belly. Now it was Jere.

“Mum, Jere and I are going to the movies.” Conrad could hear her fading away. “Oh my god, Jere, we should get Twizzlers for our drinks like we used to do when we were kids.”

Laurel had been the one to tell Conrad that Belly and Jere had become “official”. She’d dropped it just in the middle of conversation, assuming that Jere had told him already, and Conrad acted like it didn’t make him suck in a breath. He’d just carried on with the conversation like normal, but when he hung up, he had to place his hands against his desk to stop them shaking.

He wanted to believe he’d prepared for it. He’d given Jere the go ahead. He knew it was only a matter of time, especially since he’d pushed Belly away that one last time in the motel. Except how does one prepare for their heart to shatter? Even if they’re the one that took the hammer to it.

Finally, Laure was back on the phone. “Sorry, Connie, where was I?”

Conrad coughed, reminding himself how to speak. “Actually Laure, I’ve got to catch another study group in 15, so I better go.”

She sighed. “Beck would be so proud.”

It would have been easier swallowing glass. “Thanks Laure.”

That night, Conrad realised that being 5 hours away was still too close. The idea of being on the East Coast anymore felt so suffocating. He took out his computer and started applications for The University of California. His GPA was good, better than good even. Conrad had a real shot of getting in, and it would be an easy choice to explain. It was a top medical school, especially if you were interested in primary care like Conrad was. Conrad would never have to explain that the real reason he was moving across the country was because the girl he loved was now dating his brother.

They were all there to send him off. The Conklins and the Fishers reunited.

Conrad hadn’t packed much. California would be a fresh start, fresh everything. He’d mostly packed just clothes. A couple books, some photos and his guitar also made the cut, but basically everything else would stay here. His dad had agreed to store some of it in case he needed it.  

They all stood around the gate entrance. Conrad had a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Aw man, I can’t believe you’re leaving us.” Steven pulled him in by his hand and gave him a hug and a pat on the back. “You’re just getting too good for us, bro.”

Conrad exhaled through his nose. That’s not exactly how Conrad thought of it.

“My boy’s going to a top medical school.” Adam didn’t try to embrace him, knowing that Conrad probably wouldn’t like it, but his face was proud. As proud as his father could look, that is.

Laurel almost looked misty-eyed, “I wish he didn’t have to move to California to do it.” She gave him a quick, tight hug, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You better become a damn good doctor.”

Conrad chuckled at that. “No promises, Laurel.”

Jere and Belly stood to the side; Jere’s arm slung over Belly’s shoulders. They were laughing and joking, like always, and Jere was staring at Belly with his heart in his eyes. Belly was smiling back up at him. Conrad made sure not to look at them for too long. They tell you not to look at the sun.

He and Jere hugged quickly. Things between them had mostly improved, but it was hard in moments like these when Conrad had to see them together as a couple, but Conrad schooled his features. It was practically second nature to him now.

“We’ll talk soon right, Connie?”

“Of course.”

This would be good for them. Conrad could be a much better brother to him from a distance where he didn’t have to watch Jere and Belly be in love, where he wasn’t pining for her.  

Belly was the last one to say goodbye. Conrad wished everyone wasn’t watching them except she always had the ability to make moments feel private even when they weren’t.

He swore their hug lasted forever, but he knew that really it had only been a couple of seconds, if that.

Before they let go, she whispered in his ear, “You’re gonna do great, Conrad.”

He could hear the pride in her voice, thinking that he’s made some noble choice to move and be the best doctor he can be. Really, it was out of selfishness that he was going. Conrad felt like he was just surviving here. Surviving his mother’s death. Surviving giving Belly up. Conrad wanted the chance to do more than survive.

Then, she was out of his arms and back in his brother’s, and Conrad was flying across the country so he didn’t have to see it.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

“What do you mean you never learned to play chess?”

“I mean,” Belly looked him straight in the face, a mocking smile on her face. “That I never learned to play chess.”

Conrad was dumbfounded, looking at Belly. She was lying on her bed, swinging her legs in the air like she hadn’t said the craziest thing he’d ever heard. “But we used to play all the time at the beach house.”

“Correction. You, Jere, and Steven played chess all the time. I was only ever allowed to watch. Any time I even sat down to play, you boys got bored and ran off to do something else.” When he just stared at her in response, she continued, “But, I get the gist of it. Knight, King, Queen, prawn, all that.”

“Prawn?” Conrad clutched at his chest as if she’d shot him. “Belly, how could you even say something like that to me?”

She hopped off from her bed, over to where he was sitting at her desk, now with his head in his hands trying to wrap his head around it.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, “Conrad it doesn’t matter.”

“Belly. I can’t live like this.”

Without another word, Conrad stood up and started walking out the door.

“Woah, woah, Conrad, where are you going?” Belly laughed, trying to block him from the door.

He gave her a stern look, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her out of his way.

Conrad left the Conklin’s house.

He returned thirty minutes later. Walking straight through the lounge room-after being letting by Laurel—and into Belly room where she was back on her bed, texting him furiously if the buzzing in his pocket was any indication. He placed a travel-sized chess board on her bed.

“Okay, Conklin, let’s do this.”

The chess board was one of the things that had made it to California with him. Conrad had meant to pack it away and put it in storage with his other stuff, but it took up barely any space in his luggage that it almost felt like a crime not to take it.

Walking back into his room after taking a shower, Conrad stroked his hand over the closed set, lost in thought.

“What’s that?” Agnes asked.

Conrad looked up. He’d thought she left when he went to the shower. She usually did.

They’d been seeing each other for a couple months now- two, almost three. Conrad thought it was nice. It felt really laid back. If he was honest, it was more of a study partner with benefits kind of situation, but he liked her well enough.

They’d just finished up on one of their “study breaks”, usually that signalled the end of their real studying for the night. Once they finished, one of them usually left. Most of the time, Conrad left first, but this was his room.

“A chess set.”

“Do you play?” She asked.

His hand stopped moving against the box, and he looked down. “Not much anymore.”

Agnes sighed, falling back on the bed. “Who’s got time for anything but pre-med these days anyways?”

Conrad agreed. He hadn’t done much else other than study since he’d moved to California. He’d been able to make it to the beach for a surf three times, maybe four.  

“Hey Agnes, I don’t want to kick you out or anything, but I’ve actually got somewhere to be.” Conrad rubbed his neck.

Agnes got up from the bed and straightened herself up in the mirror. Her short, wavy hair had been mussed up from when they’d had sex, but it took her no time to look like the respectable lab student she claimed she was.

“No worries, I’m supposed to meet some of the girls from my dorm in about 15 anyways, so I was on my way out anyways. I’ll see you later at the library for actual studying.”

She didn’t look disappointed, or even offended, and Conrad found himself glad. He was also glad when she didn’t ask what his plans were.

As she went to go out the door, she’d walked past him a step and seemed to change her mind. Stepping back, she leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then she was gone.

Conrad put a hand to his cheek. The feeling of it didn’t linger.

Conrad wasn’t exactly ashamed of where he was going. He’d just preferred not to tell anyone about it.

He’d done some research after one of his psych classes and figured he would attend a session— if only to soothe the nagging voices of the et al. Then he was attending them weekly for a while, but he’d dropped off in the last couple weeks or so since the semester had really started picking up and he was also spending more time with Agnes. Mostly to study. Sometimes not.

He walked into the building. The room had a little sign out the front, ‘Grief Group 1:30PM to 3PM’.

Conrad mostly just listened. Some of the others had lost loved ones to cancer as well, and he found comfort in hearing about the stories that resembled his and in the ones that didn’t. How some responded with anger and bottled it up and how others had just let it wash over them. Conrad thought the latter seemed better off.

It wasn’t that Conrad couldn’t talk to anyone else about Susannah. Admittedly, it was harder since he’d moved across the country. He sometimes talked to Laurel about it. Whenever Jere brought her up, Conrad struggled to speak afterwards, so the conversation never got far, and sometimes Jere just acted out like Conrad was doing some stoic man shit. He wasn’t. He just didn’t know how to comfort his brother when he could barely comfort himself. Conrad never tried to talk to Adam about it.  

“Conrad, is it?” The older lady running the session, Rosette, put a light hand on his shoulder. “Do you want to share?”

“Oh, okay.” He cleared his throat.

He’d barely told them anything in the time he’d been here. When he started to talk, he found he couldn’t talk about Susannah’s death straight away. He couldn’t even talk about the summer leading up to it. He couldn’t mention the how or the when or the why, because he was still figuring that out himself.  So, instead he talked about the aftermath.

Afterwards, the group dispersed for coffee and some snacks, and Conrad took a Styrofoam cup of coffee with shaky hands. He felt… better.

An older man approached him, offering him a cookie from the tin he was holding. Conrad took one.

He placed his other hand on Conrad’s shoulder. It was heavy. Sturdy. “Hey kid, I’m Maurice, I’m sorry for your loss. It’s just tragic that you lost your mum and that girl. Was it a car accident?”

Conrad’s eyebrows knitted together. “That girl?”

“Yeah, from the sound of your story, you lost your mum and that girl, uh, Belly, around the same time, right? Based on what you said, it sounded like they were close, so I thought that they might’ve gone together in a car accident or something.”

Conrad swallowed. Maurice wasn’t exactly wrong about him losing them at the same time.

“Uh, actually, no.” He looked down into the brown liquid swishing in his cup. “My mum died of cancer.”

Maurice looked surprised. “Oh, and the girl?”

Conrad tried to laugh it off, but his chuckle came out, sad. “She’s alive and well, Maurice.”

Maurice apologised and quickly moved on to offer some of the others refreshments.

Conrad took another sip of his coffee and looked out the window. More to himself than anymore else, Conrad said. “Alive and well.”

It was like Agnes could read his mind in the library that night. Conrad was staring at his textbook thinking about what Maurice had said at the group session, when Agnes asked if he’d ever been in love. Once, he told her. It had been something that dawned on him slowly, like waking up from a dream. He hesitated when Agnes asked if he was in love with her, because the truth was, he wasn’t. He really liked her, but it wasn’t love.

Her words lingered with him after they left her lips.

“You’re an honest guy, Conrad. But you don’t let people in. It’s impossible to get close to you. I think you still love that other girl, at least a little bit. Am I right?”

Then they went back to their studying, and they both knew it was over between them.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

When the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Belly in the ugliest Christmas pyjamas Conrad had ever seen, holding a fire poker like she was ready to strike, he thought he was hallucinating.  

His candy cane fell from his mouth. “What in the world?”

He was confused, however, why he’d be hallucinating this. Maybe all the time delayed on that plane had rotted his brains.

Then her arms were around him and she was squeezing him tightly, a little breathy laugh escaping her lips, and Conrad knew he wasn’t imagining this. When Conrad dreamed of her, there was always something missing that reminded him it wasn’t real. He hadn’t realised how much was missing until this moment. Her scent. Her energy. Her in his arms.

“Why are you holding a poker?” It was the only thing he could think to say.

She stepped out of their embrace, and Conrad missed her warmth immediately. She looked sheepish when she said, “I thought you were a burglar.”

“Of course you did.” He had to bite back his smile. He had thought she was Steven, except in his defence it was Steven’s car in the driveway so that was a logical deduction. Belly assuming he was a burglar? Not so logical.

He followed her back to the living room and sat in the chair opposite the couch. The only light was from the flickering TV light, and Conrad could see that Home Alone had been playing. No wonder Belly let her mind run away from her.

He knew he still had that shocked look on his face, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t expecting her, and it had been almost year since he’d last seen her. “What are you doing here?”

“I was all alone at home, and I just felt like coming. What are you doing here? I didn’t even know you were coming back.”

He wasn’t planning to, but he’d missed Christmas last year since he’d only just moved to California. This year he didn’t have an excuse to miss it, not that he wanted one. It was nice to be back on the east coast, back in this house.

“My dad sent me a ticket at the last minute. It took us forever to land, because of the snow, so I got here late. Since Jere and my dad are still in New York, I figured I’d just come here.”  

He squinted at her. Now the shock had faded slightly, and he was able to get a good look at her face, Conrad could see brown stuff smeared all over her face.

“What?” She asked, smoothing down her hair that was sticking up at the back. She turned slightly to wipe at the corners of her mouth.

“You have chocolate all over your face.”

She wiped her mouth with the back of my hand. “No, I don’t. It’s probably just dirt.”

Amused, he raised his eyebrows at the near-empty can of chocolate-covered pretzels. “What, did you just put your whole head in it to save time?”

“Shut it,” Belly said, but she was smiling.

An easy silence fell between them, and Conrad watched as a Belly’s face turned pensive. She shivered, and he realised how cold the house must be. Conrad felt so hot though.

Taking off his coat, he said, “Want me to start a fire?”

“Yes! I couldn’t get it going for some reason.” She snuggled further into her blankets. She was practically swallowed by them.

“It takes a special touch,” Conrad said with an air of fake authority because he knew it would make her roll her eyes. It did.

He bent over towards the fire to light it and he was overcome with such a strong sense of déjà vu. The Christmas before last. That’s when they’d been here together, just like this, joking and laughing. Except here they were two years later, together again, but not together at all.  

It almost felt the same, but Conrad knew it wasn’t. A year away had changed him. It must have changed her as well. How could he expect her to be the same when he wasn’t?

Not that any of that mattered now, she was Jere’s girlfriend—not Conrad’s. They had just celebrated their first anniversary. He’d heard they were happy.

Conrad’s fingers started to shake a little, and he knew if he lit the fire now, he’d want to sit here and bask in its warmth, in hers. Who knows what he might say if he did that. Conrad thought back to the way Maurice said he’d described Belly like she’d died. Like Conrad had grieved her. Had he?

“It might be too late for a fire. I think I’m just gonna go crash.” Abruptly, he stood up and headed for the staircase. Then he turned back and asked, “Are you sleeping down here?”

“Yup,” Belly replied. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

Conrad started again towards the staircase and stopped when he reached it. He looked at her over on the couch, watching him. “Merry Christmas Belly. It’s really good to see you.”

“You too.” She smiled back at him, and his heart reached out towards her, but his feet took him upstairs to his room.

Conrad was awake in his bed for a long time after that. Being here in the winter but knowing Belly was in her room like she’d been every summer, encompassed all of the similarities and differences Conrad felt. It was all the same, just a different season.

Adam had texted him while he sat at the counter, eating his breakfast. He’d said that they were still delayed getting back from New York, so they wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning. Adam said Conrad was welcome to let himself in and wait for them. He knew he should, but he heard Belly’s bedroom door open, and he figured he might just stay a little while longer.

He'd just put a spoon of cereal into his mouth when he heard a smack and Belly go “Ow.”

He stood over her where she was lying on the ground at the base of the stairs, tears forming in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching out a hand to help her sit up, but she waved him off.

“Leave me alone.” She huffed, blinking fast.

“Are you hurt? Can you move?”

“I thought you were gone,” Belly said.

Did she hope he was gone already?

“Nope. Still here.” He knelt down beside her. “Just let me try and lift you up.”

She shook her head. Conrad rolled his eyes affectionately. Leave it to Belly to make a big deal about accepting his help.

Conrad got down on the floor next to her, and they both just laid there, looking up at the ceiling. Even lying next to her just felt electrifying. Conrad wondered how far he’d have to move his hand to touch hers. It didn’t feel far at all.

No. He couldn’t think like that.  

“How bad does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten?” He asked just to say something, but he also just wanted her to talk some more. “Does it feel like you pulled something?”

“On a scale of one to ten . . . it hurts an eleven.”

“You’re such a baby when it comes to pain,” Conrad said, but a little bit of worry crept into his voice. It sounded like a solid fall.

“I am not.” Belly’s response didn’t give him a lot of confidence considering it sounded like she was about to start crying.

“Hey, that fall you took was no joke. It was just like how animals slip and fall in cartoons, like with a banana peel.”

Her head snapped in his direction; any hint of tears gone. “Are you calling me an animal?”

He tried to keep his face straight, but the corners of his mouth were betraying him. When he turned to look at her, she was already looking at him with indignation and they both burst out laughing.

Mid-laugh, Belly stopped and said, “Ow.”

He sat up and said, “I’m gonna pick you up and bring you over to the couch.”

“No,” She protested weakly. “I’m too heavy for you. I’ll get up in a minute, just leave me here for now.”

Conrad frowned. “I know I can’t bench-press my body weight like Jere, but I can pick up a girl, Belly.”

He still made an effort to go to the gym when he can, but it was like a religion to Jeremiah who’d go stir crazy if he skipped a day. Conrad was offended that Belly thought he wouldn’t be able to carry her.

She just blinked at him. “It’s not that. I’m heavier than you think. You know, freshman fifteen or whatever.”

Her face reddened.

Conrad hated that she was even thinking about something like that at a time like this. He wondered if anyone had made a comment to her about it. Steven. Or Jeremiah. He knew it’d kill her to bring up her weight. They’d talked about it a couple times when they used to talk over the phone. She’d tell him about how being a chubby kid affected her, and how sometimes she was worried what would happen if the weight came back.

“Well, you look the same to me.” It was the truth. She still looked beautiful.

Then, very gently, he scooped Belly off the floor and into his arms. She held onto him with one arm around his neck. Even after all these years, she smelt the same.

Without looking at him, she added, “It was more like ten. Freshman ten.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Conrad carried Belly over to the couch and set her down. “I’m gonna get you some Advil. That should help a little.”

She looked up at him, and Conrad swore it was like how she used to look at him. Before Jere. Before Conrad had fucked it up. But then Conrad blinked, and Belly had already looked away and had gone back to rubbing at her sore head, and he went to the kitchen and got her an Advil.

Conrad and Belly spent the rest of the day together, but not together, as was so familiar to them. It was fine with Conrad though. He’d didn’t have to be the sun or a planet— he’d accept being a star if it meant he could be in her solar system even just briefly. Distant and passing through.

He took the distant thing seriously. He tried to keep a fair amount of space between them. While she watched movies in the lounge room, he read in the kitchen. They shared canned soup and the rest of her pretzel for lunch, but he sat across from her at the table.

Except he still felt like he was so aware of her. The way she’d speak. How she’d tuck her hair behind her ears. The sound of her laugh when he said something. Even the easy silence had an impact on him.

When it started driving him crazy, he went out for a run. He let his legs fatigue as the worked against the sand, and he welcomed the sting of the winter air against his cheeks.

He stopped running and braced his arms against his knees as he doubled over to catch his breath.

“She’s Jere’s girlfriend. Jere’s. Pull it together.”

She was watching Casablanca when he came back. Her nose was tinged red and the couch was littered with tissues.

“This movie makes my heart hurt,” Her nose was blocked from all the crying, so it came out nasally and croaked.

Taking off his fleece, Conrad said, “Why? It had a happy ending. She was better off with Laszlo.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You’ve seen Casablanca?”

“Of course. It’s a classic.”

“Well, obviously you weren’t paying that close of attention, because Rick and Ilsa are meant for each other.”

Conrad snorted. “Their little love story is nothing compared to the work Laszlo was doing for the Resistance.”

She blew her nose and said, “For a young guy, you’re way too cynical.”

He rolled his eyes. “And for a supposedly grown girl, you’re way too emotional.” He headed for the stairs.

“Robot!” She yelled at his retreating back. “Tin man!”

He was laughing as he closed the bathroom door. Belly was so good at making him laugh.

When Conrad went to say goodbye that morning, Belly’s door was slightly ajar. He knocked lightly but there was no response.

“Belly?” He whispered.

He peaked his head in and she was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. Her hair was all over the place and he swore she was drooling just a little bit.

Conrad bit back a smile and closed the door and left without another word.

It was always too hard to say goodbye to her anyways.

When he arrived home, he accepted a hug from his father and welcomed one from his brother. His dad had to take some call and so Conrad was left alone with Jeremiah.

“Merry Christmas man, sorry we couldn’t spend the day together. What’d you get up to in Cousins?” Jere slapped him on the back.

“Not much, Belly was watching movies, but I was sorta just hanging around the house, reading— I even went for a run.”

Jere blinked and smiled. “Right, yeah, that's what Belly said."

Chapter Text

BELLY

Belly generally preferred when her and Jere stayed the night at her dorm, because his room was usually pretty untidy, and her dorm was much nicer than the frat house he lived in. Except tonight, they’d been drinking at a party thrown by the frat’s sister society. The houses were so close together, it only made sense to stay at his.

When they stumbled into his room, they were kissing, and touching, and grabbing. It always got like this after they’d been drinking, so frantic.

They fell onto his bed laughing like little kids. Jere looked at her once before crashing his lips to hers again.

They were kissing like that for a long time when Jere moved his lips a breath away from hers, “Belly… I really want to…”

His eyes met hers. He wanted to have sex. They’d been together for over a year now, practically one and a half now and they still hadn’t gone further than second base. Every time Belly thought she was ready, she just couldn’t. She didn’t know what was holding her back. She wished she were ready, if only for his sake.  

Belly sighed and pulled away. “Jere, I’m sorry, I’m just not ready.”

He moved and sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands through his curls. Even without their ESPN connection, she knew Jere was upset—frustrated. It was hard seeing him like this and knowing he was the reason.

He exhaled through his nose, “Belly, I just to know that someday you’ll be ready.”

Belly didn’t know what she was expecting him to say, but she was disappointed when he said it. I just want to always know you’re okay. The memory popped into her head, and she shook it away.

She placed a hand on Jere’s shoulder. “I just want it to be perfect and special, you know?”

“I know.”

Then Jere settled into the bed next to her, opening an arm for her to cuddle into him. She did.

Belly knew that everything was okay with them, that Jere would never push the issue and force her into doing anything that would make her uncomfortable, but she also felt like they both went to sleep disappointed that night.

The next day, Belly was up early. She’d always had a hard time sleeping in after a night drinking, but she was grateful because she had to head to her mum’s today.

She slid out for Jere’s grip. She didn’t even bother being graceful about it because he was unlikely to wake up otherwise. She found a little sticky notepad and wrote a reminder on it that she was meeting up with her mum today. She stuck it on his forehead. Still, he didn’t wake. Belly smiled.

“Mother, I’m home!” Belly called out as she entered through the door, her hands full. “And I bring laundry.”

Laurel walked around the corner and leaned against the kitchen doorframe, taking in the bags in Belly’s hands. “I hope you’re not expecting me to do it for you.”

Belly fluttered her eyelashes and smiled sweetly.

“No way.”

“Aw man.” She put the bags on the ground and closed the front door. Belly didn’t actually think Laurel would do it for her, but it was worth a try anyways.

Laurel came and gave her a kiss and a hug. “Are they feeding you right at college?”

She asked it every time they saw each other. Each time the real answer was no. It had less to do with what the college was feeding her, and more to do with what she, Jere, Taylor and Anika were feeding her. Except she didn’t say that to her mum, “Of course, I get all those important vitamins they tell you about… A, B, C, D. You know, all the good stuff.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “I can’t decide if it makes me feel better or worse when you lie to me.”

Belly shrugged. “Just don’t think too hard about it and it’s fine. It works for me.”

Laurel ordered them lunch while Belly put her clothes in the washing machine. When she came back out, Laurel was sitting at the table with her laptop and some papers in front of her.

“Have you started planning your 50^th yet?” Belly asked, peering over the computer. Laurel was looking at the reviews of her and Cleveland’s new book. Laurel shut the screen. “Mum, you’re obsessed with reading negative reviews. You do realise that the majority of people loved your book, right?”

She ignored Belly. “No, I haven’t even thought about my 50^th. I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s just because you don’t want to start.” Belly looked at her from the corner of her eyes.

“I wish Beck were here.” Belly nodded mournfully, except Laurel looked like she was holding back a smile. “If for no other reason than to throw this party for me. She was always better at it than I was.”

“Mum!” Belly slapped her mother’s arm.

Laurel put her head against her crossed arms on the table and groaned in a way Belly used to be scolded for when she was younger, “I hate this stuff.”

Belly laughed. “Who’s the child now?”

Laurel sat up, and Belly could tell the seriousness had returned as she looked out the window. Laurel sighed, “Seriously though, Belly, I never thought that I’d be turning 50 without her. She would have wanted to do this whole big thing, and I would have complained the whole time, but in the end it would have been great.”

Belly knew that she should just sit and listen. It wasn’t every day when her mother opened up.

Laurel continued. “You grow up with this idea of how your life is going to go, but you never know where it’s actually taking you. Sometimes it’s so sad like with Susannah, or it’s some happy accident like you.”

“Ew. Okay mum, I am cutting you off right there. It is too gross for you to refer to me as a ‘happy accident’.”

Laurel laughed. “You’re right, sorry Belly. Okay, come on, you can help me with the guest list.”

On her drive back to university, she thought about what her mum had said about you never knowing where your life is going. Belly had to agreed. For so long, she had thought she was going to end up with Conrad, at one point it seemed inevitable, but now she was a year and half into dating his brother instead.

It was one of those times that the tightly packed away memory of Christmas threaten to slip out, and instead of fighting it like she’d done every other time over the last two months, she just let it sit.

Conrad had seemed different. Good different though. He seemed… lighter. It made her feel lighter too.

She’d been worried about Conrad since he’d left for California. She hadn’t said anything to anyone else. She didn’t want to give them, especially Jere, the impression that she was worried about him because she was still in love with him. She wasn’t. It was just that he didn’t have anyone out there to support him. His family was here. The Fishers and the Conklins. Despite everything that had happened between them, they were still family.

So, seeing him tan and well-fed had lifted a weight off her shoulders that she hadn’t known had settled on her shoulders. It was also nice, just existing in Conrad’s space again without drama. It had been so long since they were just able to enjoy each other’s company.

She could admit to herself that she missed him. As a friend, of course. Except what about the moment on the couch? The relapse.

Her phone rang. It was Jere. She scrambled to put the memory away, to lock it up. She could never touch it again. It was too risky.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

When Conrad got the invite to Laurel’s 50^th, he’d responded immediately. Of course, he would go. When he talked with Laurel and she asked if he was coming, he reassured her he would be there. However, the problem was that there was too much time in between when Conrad accepted the invite and when it was actually time to go. He had too much time to think.

He was resolved to go, it was the right thing to do, but when he found himself in front of the airport- bag and ticket in hand- he couldn’t step inside. Belly would be there. Conrad would have to see her.

It wasn’t like Christmas where neither of them had been expecting to see each other, and then they just got to enjoy each other’s silent company in private. No, it wouldn’t be like that at all. Conrad had had too much time to psych himself out. It was hard enough to be around her when he couldn’t have her, but at the party, Jere would be there. Conrad would have to seal up his true emotions and keep them from playing out on his face. He would be forced to watch them be together and in love and he would start to hate Jere again. He’d moved to California just to avoid it.

Seeing Belly at Christmas really cemented what Agnes had said to him. He still loved Belly. Not just a little bit. A lot, with his entirety.  Except there was nothing for it anymore. He would have to be content with loving Belly from afar and in secret. He hadn’t been ready to give Belly all of him when she’d needed it, and now he was, she was happy and in love with someone else—his brother, of all people. But she deserved it, Jeremiah could give her so much more than what Conrad offered. Now and then.

So, his feet would not move. They were frozen.

“Come on, Conrad. Just one foot in front of the other, you’ve been doing it since you were one.” He begged under his breath.

Then his body listened. One foot in front of the other and Conrad was back in the cab, heading back to his house.

He hated that he wouldn’t be there for Laurel, especially since he’d come to rely on her. He’d call her later. He’d say something came up at the lab he was working at part-time. It wouldn’t make up for it, but he’d send her flowers. Red zinnias. Susannah had mentioned once that those were Laurel’s favourite. He hoped it would be enough for her to forgive him.

He wouldn’t disappoint her next time.

“The women’s shelter is dedicating a garden to your mum.” Adam told him. It was unusual for his father to call him, so when he did Conrad picked up. “They’re unveiling it in June, will you come? Laurel and the kids are also coming.”

Conrad looked at his calendar. It was in two months. After missing Laurel’s birthday last month, he was more inclined to give in. “I think I should be done with my exams by then, but I won’t be sure until closer to the date.”

His father hesitated on the other end of the line. “It’d be nice to see you. We haven’t seen you since Christmas.”

Conrad flinched slightly at the memory. Not the memory of Christmas with his family. No, the other Christmas memories.

When Conrad didn’t say anything immediately, Adam cleared his throat on the other end, “Anyways, I’ll send you all the details. It might give you a chance to see Susannah’s headstone too now that it’s up. Jere was going to come up during spring break and go check it out with me, but he’s going to Cabo with his friends.”

Conrad wondered what Belly would be doing if Jere was away with his friends. Cabo didn’t really seem like her thing.

“I’ll let you know when I know, Dad.”

And that was the end of the call.

Conrad had tried to make it on time. Sometimes, he really felt like the world was against him. He sped down all the way to Cousins hoping the plane delay wouldn’t make him a liar to Laurel again. It had been a couple weeks since they spoke, and she’d asked if he was going to be there. He said he would, but he’d said he would be at her 50^th too.

He arrived late, as he expected, cursing under his breath but choose to stay at the back of the room rather than take the seat saved for him at the front. No one noticed him.

He spotted her there. She didn’t see him either.

It was surreal seeing Belly again. Christmas had seemed like this out of world, out of time, kind of experience where everything had been the same as it had always been and different in every way all at the same time. Looking at her now from the back of the crowded room in a lavender dress that his mother would’ve gushed over, she looked grown up. At Christmas he hadn’t noticed, but now he could see it. The way she dressed, the way she’d done her hair, the way she sat. She’d grown up and he had missed it. He might not even know her anymore, grown up Belly.

But then he noticed the little Band-Aid on her ankle, and he recognised her again. She was Belly.

Conrad listened as the presenter spoke about his mum, and then Jere went up there and thanked them for this memorial. He knew that his mother would have loved it all—would have loved it more if he had been up there too.

When Jere finished up, he went and took a seat next to Belly and held her hand. The muscles in his stomach clenched and he moved to hide behind a woman.

Conrad closed his eyes. It was a mistake coming here. He knew he’d react like this. He knew he had no right to. But his vision spotted.

They spotted him eventually, after the speeches. Well, she spotted him first. Her eyes left Jere’s and met his. Belly stopped and stared; her mouth slightly agape. Conrad felt like it was only them in that moment, and he lifted a hand in a wave. She returned the gesture.

She shook out of it when Jere cleared his throat next to her.

Then they were all on him like flies. His father. Laurel. Steven. Jere was slow, but he came over too. They all embraced and greeted him.

Belly was last.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He opened his arms wide.

It was a dare; they both knew it. With a little hesitation, she stepped into his arms and crushed her in his arms, lifting her off the ground. God, it was nice. She squealed, tugging at the hem of her skirt, and everyone laughed. Everyone except Jere who stared at him with an uncharacteristic straight face. When he set her back down, Belly moved closer to Jere, and Conrad ignored the way his heart panged.

“Conrad’s glad to have his little sister around again,” His father said, jovially.

Conrad flinched inwardly. His dad must not have known they dated too.

“How have you been, little sis?” Conrad asked, part mocking, part mischievous.

“Great,” She said, looking at Jeremiah. “We’re really great.”

Jere looked at his phone and said. “I’m starving.”

Laurel cut in then. “Let’s get some pictures by the garden before we go.”

So, they did, and it felt like all the old summers where the mums had taken their photos together when they first got to Cousins for the summer.

At lunch, they’d only just sat at the table and Belly had already buttered and stuffed a whole bread roll into her mouth, and Conrad smiled inwardly. Grown up Belly was turning out to be very similar to the regular Belly he knew.

He watched Steven mouth Pig to her.

She sneered. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

Adam advised her that he’d ordered a bunch of appetizers, and they talked about how she could start calling him Adam now.

Steven turned to him and asked, “So why don’t you ever leave California?”

The reason was sitting just a couple seats down the table.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, for, like, the first time since you left, practically.” Steven nudged him and lowered his voice. “You got a girl out there?”

“No,” Conrad said. He didn’t let his eyes drift over to Belly, who was also listening to the conversation. “No girl.”

The champagne arrived then, and they all toasted Susannah and being able to share the day together.

He was laughing with Steven about the fact he was currently in trouble with Shayla because he’d used all her expensive shampoo as body wash when Jere announced he had something to say. All eyes turned to Jeremiah, and out of the corner of his eye, Conrad could see Belly shifting in her seat.

“I’ll just go ahead and warn you—it’s really good news.” Jeremiah flashed a smile at everyone. “I asked Belly to marry me, and she said yes. She said yes! We’re getting married this August!”

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He knew his face was blank. He’d received enough bad news in the past to make sure that his emotions never displayed on his face until he was ready. Even when he was surprised. So surprised.

Belly. Marrying his brother. The only girl who had ever really understood him. The only girl he’d loved deeply. That girl-his girl-was marrying his brother.

Blink, Conrad. Breathe, Conrad. If he didn’t think it, he wasn’t sure he would do it.

That’s when the fighting started. Laurel asking if she was pregnant. Belly swearing she wasn’t, they just wanted to get married. Laurel saying they were too young. Jeremiah saying they love each other and want to be together. Laurel accusing Adam of knowing, but him just thinking they were joking. Jere saying they weren’t. Laurel telling them they aren’t getting married while they’re both in school. Maybe after they graduate according to his father.

This was all happening around Conrad. Blinking and breathing. That was all he could focus on right now. A few times in his life, Conrad had felt like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. He was glad that he had been sitting. His legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight right now. His heart felt like it wasn’t beating but it felt like it was beating too fast too.

Then they were all standing up, leaving, and Conrad followed suit.

Steven whispered, “Holy shit, man. This is crazy. Did you know about this?”

“No.” It was all he could manage.

Outside, he hugged Laurel goodbye on instinct and hopped in his car like he was in a trance.

He drove 10 minutes before Conrad had to stop and throw up. 

Chapter Text

CONRAD

 Conrad had stayed a week at the house with Adam and Jere. It was just quiet. Most of the time, Jere and his dad were at work, so Conrad just drifted from room to room with no real purpose. It was worse when they were here too. Conrad barely knew how to act around Jere now. For the most part, he’d been able to separate everything in his mind. Jere was his brother. Belly was his… whatever Belly was. Jere and Belly as a couple? That reality was thrown in to the deep, dark recesses of his mind that he would never look at unless he was forced to.

Now that’s all that he saw when he looked at Jere. He saw them at that table, in that restaurant, announcing their engagement. Worse than that, he saw Belly’s hand on the table with a small diamond that sparkled just to taunt him. He also saw himself of the side of the road retching.

One day, when it all got too much, he made the trip out to Cousins.

It was like being able to breath again.

Californian beaches were nice, but in his mind, they had nothing on Cousins. The house was still the same, with the exception of a coat of dust and stale air. Walking around, he could see where age and time had started to leave its imprint. Broken light bulbs, chipping paint, little things, big things.

He hadn’t bought a ticket to go back to California. He wouldn’t, not yet. The lab didn’t need him back for a while. He wasn’t doing a summer semester. For the first time in a while, Conrad had no plans.

Conrad felt a renewed sense of purpose. He would stay here, let Cousins bring him back to earth, and to repay it, he would fix up the house.

He went back to Boston, and got his things, and he came right back, where he belonged.

He cooked. He cleaned. He surfed. It was as glorious as Conrad had hoped. It, also, lasted a week.

When that week was over, he came home from grocery shopping and found Jere and Belly sitting on the front porch, Belly in his lap. Conrad’s stomach tightened. She stood up and waved at him.

They were up doing wedding stuff, still going ahead even though Laurel wasn’t on board yet. It was odd to him that Belly didn’t want to wait until they had her approval, but it still seemed in character for Jere. He was an all-steam-ahead kind of guy.

He cooked them dinner. He’d become so used to it since he’d been living on his own. Chicken in all shapes and form, but mostly grilled.

After giving him compliments about his cooking that made his ears turn pink, Jere announced “Belly’s gonna stay here until the wedding. Is that cool with you, Con?”

Conrad’s eyes widened.

Belly would be staying here. Until the wedding. Conrad should have known that this is where she would want to have it. Why else would they be here? He knew it was her favourite spot in the world, or at least it had been. He didn’t know what had changed in the time they’d been separated.  

“I won’t be in your way,” She assured him since he had forgotten to respond. “I’ll just be doing wedding stuff.”

Which was worse, that she was here doing wedding stuff or that she wouldn’t be in his way?

“It’s fine. I don’t care,” he said.

Belly looked down at her plate, moving the remaining food around with her fork but not taking another bite. “Thanks.”

After dinner, they invited him to go get ice cream with them but said he’d stay back and clean up. He couldn’t think of anything worse than walking with Jere and Belly as they ate ice cream and walked hand in hand. The thought made him want to throw up again.

“The cook shouldn’t have to clean up.” She tried to grab the tea towel out of his hand, but Conrad was too quick, holding it above her head. She made one failed jump to grab at it.

“I don’t mind, Belly.”

She frowned at him. She might have said more but Jere was calling her over, and they were out.

He was sitting in front of the TV when they came back. It’d be a stretch to say he was watching it. It was more like he had been zoning out in its direction. When they sat on the couch, it repelled him out of his seat. Casually.

“I’m gonna hit the sack,” he said, stretching his arms over his head.

“It’s, like, ten o’clock. Watch a movie with us,” Jeremiah said.

“Nah, I’m gonna get up early tomorrow and surf. Wanna join me?”

Jeremiah glanced at Belly before saying, “Yeah, sounds good.”

Belly pouted a little bit. “I thought we were gonna work on the guest list in the morning.”

“I’ll come back before you’re even awake. Don’t worry.” To Conrad, he said, “Knock on my door when you’re up.”

Conrad hesitated. “I don’t want to wake up Belly.”

His eyes drifted over to her. She was turning pink, not looking at him.  “I don’t mind.”

Conrad closed his bedroom door behind him and pulled out his phone, sending his friend, Danny, a message.

Would I be able to stay over at yours a couple nights?

The phone pinged back quickly. Sure, when do you want to come over?

Conrad typed out on his phone that he’d come by tomorrow after he went surfing with Jere, but his finger hesitated over the send button.

If he didn’t stay, they’d ask why. He’d come all this way. They knew he was planning to spend the rest of the summer here, but the second they say Belly was staying over he was going to run packing? He may as well just announce he was still in love with her.

He could do it, right? Just keep his distance. It was dangerous. He’d barely kept it together at Christmas. The safe option would be to go to Danny’s. Except he still couldn’t press send.

When Jere opened the door to join him for a surf that morning, Conrad noticed that Belly wasn’t in his bed. Jere started to bound down the stairs, but Conrad threw a look over his shoulder. The door to Belly’s bedroom was shut. It had been open when he’d gone to bed. Conrad didn’t smile. But he wanted to.

Out on the waves with Jere felt natural, like it was any other summer. Except when Conrad tried to suggest that maybe, just maybe, it’s not a good idea to get married since Laurel and Adam were against it, Jere blew up at him.

“Stay out of it, Conrad,” he spat.

“All right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to . . . I’m sorry.”

“I never asked for your opinion. This is between me and Belly.”

Conrad thought about that even as Jere rode to shore and left him out there on his own. Smug piece of shit. He was marrying Conrad’s girl, and he couldn’t do anything but let it happen.

It was the first time that Conrad had felt like Jeremiah had intentionally rubbed salt in the wound.

Conrad had promised his mum on her deathbed that he’d take care of Jeremiah. Conrad moved across the country to keep that promise. He was going to let Jere marry the girl he loved to keep that promise. Conrad just wished it didn’t sting so much.

In that first week, Belly and Conrad were like repelling magnets. They were never in the same place at the same time. If Conrad was in the kitchen, Belly was in her room. If Belly was in the lounge room, Conrad was at the beach or a friend’s or working on the house. Except sometimes, when it was late and Conrad was still awake looking up at his ceiling, he’d hear a splash and smile. He'd look out his window, and Belly would be doing laps at midnight, just like she used to.

One morning, Conrad was coming home, and Belly was out on the deck.

“Hey. Where are you coming from?” She asked, taking a bite of a strawberry Pop-Tart.

“The gym,” Conrad said, walking past her. Then he stopped short. “Is that what you’re eating for breakfast?”

“Yeah, but it’s my last one. Sorry.”

Conrad would hardly call that breakfast. He cringed at the idea of having that kind of sugar this early in the morning. Unless it was the good muffins. Those were the only exception.

“I left cereal out on the counter. There’s fruit in the fruit bowl too.”

She shrugged. “I thought it was yours. I didn’t want to eat your stuff without asking.”

Impatiently, he said, “Then why didn’t you ask?”

She turned her head like a dog, not understanding his tone. “How could I ask when I’ve barely even seen you?”

They scowled at each other for about three seconds before a smile started tugging at the corners of his mouth. Giving each other a tough time was almost second nature by now. It was a comfort to fall back into again.

“Fair enough,” he said, forcing away the smile. What was he thinking? Falling into old habits is exactly the kind of thing he should avoid. He started to slide the glass door open, and then he turned and said, “Whatever I buy, you can eat.”

“Same here,” she replied.

A ghost of a smile flickered onto his face again. Goddamn it, Belly. “You can keep your Pop-Tarts and your Funyuns and your Kraft mac and cheese all to yourself.”

“Hey, I eat other stuff besides just junk,” she protested.

“Sure you do,” he said, and he went inside.

The next night he did find out she ate other stuff. He’d stayed out all day as a punishment for letting his mask falter. If you can really call surfing and hanging out with friends as a punishment. He didn’t come home until he knew she’d gone to bed.

The kitchen was clean except one plate on the counter. Spaghetti with salad. Conrad sat and ate it at the counter.

He let himself smile when he ate it, not because it was good, but because she made it for him.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

When he’d come back from a run, soaked in sweat, she was in the kitchen table, papers around her.

“Good run?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He moved closer, standing closer to her than he probably needed to, and picked up one of the papers from table. “You’re gonna mail out wedding invitations? Old school. I feel like a lot of people do the electronic invites now.”

Belly picked up one of her own to look at. “Yeah, I’ve just got to get stamps. I feel like we’re making enough sacrifices in other areas of the wedding and there’s so few people invited that physical invitations make it feel more real.” She smiled down at it. “Besides, there’s something so romantic in having something tangible. It just shows the love and care that goes into. it, don’t you think?”

She was still smiling when she looked up at him. It was radiant. He must have nodded because she had a pleased look on her face like she did whenever they agreed on something. Conrad had to take a step away to force himself not to stare at her.

He swallowed and walked over to pour himself a glass of water.

“I need to go into town and get a new drill at the hardware store. The post office is on the way. I can get your stamps.” He said after taking a sip.

Her eyes widened. “Thanks but I want to go and see what kind of love stamps they have.”

He downed his water.

“Do you know what a love stamp is?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “It’s a stamp that says ‘love’ on it. People use them for weddings. I only know because Taylor told me I had to get them.”

Conrad half smiled and said, “We can take my car if you want. Save you a trip.”

Conrad kicked himself for finding ways to justifiably hang out with Belly. Distance. That’s the sole condition he’d placed on himself for staying at the house, except how bad could a couple of stolen moments be.

“Sure,” she said.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Give me ten minutes,” he said, and ran up the stairs.

She offered for them to take her car, but he said it was okay.

When she hopped into the passenger seat, she ran her hand over the door, a thoughtful look on her face.

“I can’t remember the last time I was in your car,” she said, reaching for the radio.

Without missing a beat, he said, “Your prom.”

It was another one of those moments Conrad wished he could have taken back. Conrad remembered how she’d crumpled the closer they’d gotten to his car under the assumption he wanted to break up. To this day Conrad didn’t know if that’s even what he’d wanted to do, but still he struggled to forgive himself for ruining that night for her.

An awkward silence settled between them. Conrad could only assume she was thinking about it as well until she turned to him and said brightly, “Gosh, that was, like, a million years ago, huh?”

This time he didn’t reply.

He dropped her off in front of the post office and told her he’d be back in a few minutes. Conrad pulled up just as she was putting her invitations in the mail. This was really happening. Belly was really getting married.

 Climbing into the car, I asked, “Did you get your new drill?”

“Yep,” he said. “Did you find your love stamps?”

“Yep,” I said. “Hey, what does it mean to hand cancel mail?”

When he explained, she looked shocked until he reminded her that he used to collect stamps. Recognition sparked in her eyes and she brought up the time Jeremiah had stolen a rare stamp from his collection and used it to send a postcard. Conrad started to get defensive about it but then Belly was laughing, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. It was like old times.

Shaking his head, he said, “I was such a little geek.”

“No, you weren’t!”

Conrad threw her a look. “Stamp collecting. Chemistry set. Encyclopedia obsession.”

“Yeah, but you made all of that seem cool.” Her tone was completely sincere. She fully believed that.

“You were gullible,” he said. And then, “When you were really little, you hated carrots. You wouldn’t eat them. But then I told you that if you ate carrots, you’d get X-ray vision. And you believed me. You used to believe everything I said.”

She didn’t say anything immediately, just turned to look out the window and Conrad couldn’t see the look on her face.

Abruptly, she said, “Are you going to stay in California after you graduate?”

“It depends on med school,” he said. Conrad had no idea where he would go once the school excuse ran out. Maybe his internship or residency would take him somewhere else entirely.

She hesitated again. “Are you . . . do you have a girlfriend?”

He had to force his eyes to stay focused on the road, looking at her might give too much away. The surprise that she’d asked. His want to see her reaction to his response. The real reason he didn’t.

“No,” he said.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, tilting her head to one side. Teasingly, she said, “If there wasn’t a girl, why would you stay away for so long? There has to be a girl.”

Oh man was there.

Distance. Distance. Distance.

The car ride, the questioning, it reminded Conrad that he should be making himself a lot scarcer than he had been. He’d done it successfully until he had found a stressed-out Belly on the floor of the loungeroom with her hands in her hair like she was moments away from tearing it out.

Jere was supposed to come help her get some wedding stuff but didn’t leave early like she’d suggested so he’d gotten stuck in traffic. Before he could stop himself, Conrad found himself volunteering to go with her.

This time they took her car because it was bigger. She drove. Conrad had only ridden with her a couple of times, back when she was first learning. Now, she was much more confident and assured. She drove fast but was still in control. Conrad liked it. It was kind of exhilarating seeing her in her element, seeing a new side of her. His eyes kept gravitating in her direction to look at her. So much so, he had to force himself to cool it.

“You’re not a bad driver,” he said.

She grinned. “Jeremiah taught me well.”

That’s right. He taught her how to drive that last summer, probably after too. “So what else about you has changed?”

“Hey, I was never not a good driver.”

Conrad snorted, then looked out the window. “I think Steve would disagree.”

“He’ll never let me live down what I did to his precious baby.” She shifted gears as they came to a stoplight. “So what else?”

“You wear heels now. At the garden ceremony, you had on high heels.”

There was a minute hesitation before she said, “Yeah, sometimes. I still trip in them, though.” Ruefully she added, “I’m like a real lady now.”

Conrad reached out to touch her hand, but at the last second he pointed instead. “You still bite your nails.”

It was comforting to see remnants of the Belly he’d known mixed in with this new Belly he was still coming to know.

She curled her fingers around the steering wheel. With a little smile, she said, “You don’t miss a thing.”

They got to Michael’s and Conrad helped her get her vases and candles.

Jere was at the house by the time they got back. He was lounged on the couch watching TV but sat up when they came in.

“Where have you guys been?” he asked. He said it casually, but his eyes flickered to Conrad as he spoke.

It felt like an accusation. Conrad hadn’t done anything wrong.

Belly explained, even sounding a little pissed at him for missing it, but she didn’t pull away when she kissed him.

Conrad looked away and rubbed his neck. “I’m gonna go unload the car.”

“Wait, I’ll help.” Jeremiah released Belly and slapped his hand on Conrad’s back. “Con, thanks for pinch-hitting for me today.”

Pinch-hitting? Conrad had to bite his tongue. “No problem.”

“It’s after eight,” Belly said. “I’m starving. Let’s all go to Jimmy’s for dinner.”

Conrad shook my head. “Nah, I’m not hungry. You guys go.”

“But you didn’t have any dinner,” Belly said, frowning. “Just come with us.”

“No, thanks.”

She started to protest again, but Jere said, “Bells, he doesn’t want to. Let’s just go.”

“Are you sure?” she asked Conrad.

“I’m good.” He hadn’t expected for it to come out so harsh, so he tried to ignore the little bit of hurt that flashed over Belly’s face when he said it.

After they left, so did he. To Boston. He wasn’t sure if he was planning to come back.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

He ended up going back to Cousins the day after he left. He’d figured that he’d had just as much right to be there as Belly and Jere did. He wasn’t going to let them force him out— even though they had actually done nothing of the sort.

He and his dad had talked in the kitchen at midnight when he first got to Boston. Adam had asked Conrad for his opinion on the whole thing and, even with his feelings about Belly aside, Conrad agreed that it was stupid that they were getting married so young. He’d told his dad that technically he could cut Jere off, but he still thought that Jere would go through with it anyways, especially since he still had money in the trust after Susannah’s death. Adam had ended the conversation by saying he didn’t want to lose Jere like he’d lost Conrad. Adam had left the room before Conrad could say that he hadn’t lost him.

One other thing that Conrad had been surprised to find out was the reason that Belly was at the summer house in the first place. He knew that Belly and Laurel had fought. He didn’t know what she’d run off to Cousins because of it. He also didn’t know that now they weren’t speaking.

Conrad was surprised he knew none of this. With the exception of seeming stressed from the wedding, Belly had seemed mostly chipper. She hadn’t breathed a word of it to him. In the past Conrad would have been able to tell without her saying anything. Her face used to just give everything away. He thought it still did. Maybe she was getting better at hiding her emotions. Or maybe he just didn’t know her like he used to.

When he got back, he fired up the grill and cooked lunch for him and Belly.

They sat out on the deck.

“Did Jere tell you what he wants you and Steven to wear for the wedding?”

Conrad shook his head, looking confused. “I thought guys just wore suits for weddings.”

“Well, yeah, but you guys are his best men, so you’re all dressing alike. Khaki shorts and white-linen button-down shirts. He didn’t tell you?”

“This is the first I’m hearing about linen shirts. Or being a best man.”

Belly rolled her eyes and raked a hand through her hair. “Jeremiah needs to get on the ball. Of course you’re his best man. You and Steven both are.”

“How can there be two best men? ‘Best’ implies only one.” Biting into his corn on the cob, he said, “Let Steven be it, I don’t care.”

“No! You’re Jeremiah’s brother. You have to be his best man.”

Conrad disagreed. In fact, he thought he might be the last person Jere would want as his best man while he married Belly and that was just fine by him. It was like being offered frontside tickets to getting your heart ripped out.

Belly clearly wasn’t done with her pitch; however, her phone rang, interrupting whatever else she was about to say.

She didn’t seem to know the other person on the line, or it was their first time speaking. Belly seemed confused but she replied with answers to what he could only assume were wedding questions.

She looked at him with a puzzled look which he only returned.

She mouthed, Denise Coletti.

His dad’s assistant? He gestured for her to give him the phone, but she waved him off.

They continued to talk and right as it seemed like the conversation was coming to an end, Conrad leaned over and called out, “Hi, Denise!”

Belly turned around after a second, her hand over the phone. “Denise says hello.”

Then they hung up.

“What’s going on?” Conrad asked. “Why is Denise calling you?”

Belly didn’t seem to know what to do with the phone in her hand. She fiddled with it a little before choosing to put it down. “Um, apparently, your dad’s secretary is our wedding planner now. And we’re inviting forty people instead of twenty.”

He looked down at his plate. Blandly, he said, “That’s good news.”

“How is that good news?”

“It means my dad is okay with you guys getting married. And he’s paying for it.” Conrad started to cut his chicken. He couldn’t help but think he had something to do with.

“Huh. Wow.” She stood up. “I’d better call Jere. Wait, it’s the middle of the day. He’s still at work.”

She sat back down. She picked up her fork, but it just sort of hovered over her plate.

Conrad could see the wheels turning in her head. He figured she’d be more excited since their wedding budget had seemed pretty much non-existent and she’d been so stressed out. Her face was mostly blank but there was just the hint of something else. If Conrad had to label the emotion on her face, he’d call it disappointed, maybe overwhelmed.

She looked at her plate.

“Eat,” Conrad said.  

And she did. But not enough.

It was later that week when Conrad finally noticed the effects of Laurel and Belly’s separation. He’d overheard her talking to Taylor explaining that she didn’t really want a wedding shower if everyone was going to be there but her mum. At the end of the call, Belly’s bedroom door clicked shut and Conrad could hear her start to cry.

If he had to describe Belly, he’d describe her as cheerful, upbeat, the kind of person who’d find the bright side in almost anything. Hearing her so upset felt like Conrad’s foundation had been rocked.

He’d lain in bed that night, deciding to stay out of it, but her sobs permeated his dreams and sent shivers down his spine.

He left to go see Laurel before the sun was up.

Sitting in front of her, he laid it all out there. He told Laurel that she should go to the wedding, even if neither of them thought it was a good idea. If he knew one thing it was that Belly needed her mum right now. Laurel didn’t seem to think so until he mentioned the shower, how Belly was crying and barely eating. She’d regret it, he’d said, if she didn’t go.

Then she fixed him with this particularly piercing look that only Laurel was capable of and asked, “Are we speaking honestly with each other here?”

“Don’t we always?”

Laurel nodded, taking a sip of coffee. “Yes, that we do. So tell me. What’s your interest in all of this?”

He’d expected her to ask. He didn’t know what he’d say when she did so he went with the truth. He told it to the coffee in his cup since her gaze was too all knowing to look at directly. “I want her to be happy.”

“Ah,” she said. “Just her?”

“Jeremiah, too.”

That was also technically true, but Conrad wondered why it felt like a lie. 

“And that’s it?” He looked up at her then, and her gaze was still steady on him.

All he could do was look back.

He thought about that conversation the whole way home. Her knowing look. Her choice of words. Maybe Conrad hadn’t been as good at hiding his emotions as he’d thought. Or maybe Laurel had always been that good at reading him and he’d just forgotten.

Annoyance seeped in. Conrad was wittingly and unwittingly planning their wedding. He just happened to be there at every stage. It was ridiculous. He didn’t even agree with them. He didn’t even want the wedding to happen. He needed to stop.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

“Where have you been?”

He’d barely set foot in the door, and Belly was already asking him questions.

He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t look at her either. He didn’t want her to know that he’d been out talking to Laurel on her behalf, or that he decided that he needed to wipe his hands of this situation. Instead, he said, words clipped, “Just running errands.”

Her brow wrinkled at his response, and she waited a beat for him to say something further. He didn’t.

“Wanna keep me company while I go to the florist in Dyerstown? I have to pick out flowers for the wedding.”

“Isn’t Jere coming today? Can’t you go with him?” He couldn’t keep the annoyance from his voice.

This. This is exactly the sort of stuff he’d just resolved to stay out of, and here she was inviting him out again.

He registered the look of surprise and a little hurt on her face, and he turned to the sink, reaching for a glass just so he didn’t have to look at it.

“He’s not going to be here until tonight,” She replied. Her voice turned playful when she added, “Anyway, you’re the one who’s the flower-arranging expert, not Jere, remember?”

He thought about the other day at Michael’s where she’d teased him about the fake flower arrangements he’d suggested.

Conrad stood at the sink with his back to her. He turned on the water, filling a glass. “I don’t want to piss him off.”

That was one reason he didn’t want to go, but Conrad was also scared. All this time he’d been getting to spend with Belly made his heart skip and bend and break, and Conrad was scared that he’d want to do something about it. Something that would ruin everything, something that would really piss Jere off.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen this morning?” She spoke fast and with concern. She stood closer to him, and it was like every fibre of his being strained towards her, like the hair on the back of his neck stood up just to get even a fraction closer to her.

He could feel her hand raise, to put it on his shoulder. Conrad would surely break if she did something like that, so he turned around and her hand fell back to her side. She was still close.

“Nothing happened,” he said, grabbing his keys from the counter. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

They drove there in silence with the exception of the music that Belly put on, and he was just as quiet at the florist.

Conrad floated around the store as Belly stood near the counter reviewing the book of flower arrangements. Despite his best efforts, the pleasant smells from the various flowers calmed him somewhat. It made Conrad think of Susannah and his heart ached with a dullness he never knew could exist before she’d passed away.

He allowed himself one moment to look at Belly while she wasn’t paying attention. She tucked her long hair behind her ear. Susannah had always been right about her. How beautiful she was—is. But it had always been more than that. It was her energy that had made Belly beautiful like it had radiated from her soul and made her physically glow.

She looked up at him then and smiled.

He blinked.

She beckoned him over with a nod of her head. “What do you think?”

She pointed at the arrangement of peonies in the book, and the dull ache returned. “Those were mum’s favourite.”

She had a small look of satisfaction on her face, like she’d known he’d say that. “I remember.”

She ordered five arrangements.

“What about bouquets?” the florist asked her.

“Can those be peonies too?” Belly asked.

“Sure, we can do that. I’ll put together something nice for you.” To Conrad, she said, “Are you and your groomsmen doing boutonnieres?”

He turned red. “I’m not the groom,” he said.

He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine it, or even think it, not even during all the other wedding errands he’d helped with. But now the florist planted the idea in his mind and it spread like a weed he couldn’t rip out. The groom to Belly’s bride. His heart paused.

“He’s the brother of the groom,” Belly said, handing her Mr. Fisher’s credit card.

Conrad went and hopped in the car while Belly finalised the last bits and pieces with the florist. He put his hands on the wheel and gripped tight and rested his against the back of his seat.

When they were driving home, they passed this fruit stand on the side of the road. Belly didn’t say anything, but Conrad could see her in his periphery watching as the fruit stand appeared and passed them.

“Want to go back?”

“Nah, that’s okay, we already passed it,” She tried to seem like it didn’t matter to her, but there was this tinge of disappointment in her voice.

He made a U-turn on the one-way street.

He leaned against the car as she went up to the stand, watching as she dropped some coins in the bowl. She came back with a peach.

“Aren’t you going to have one?” She asked him, wiping off the peach on her shirt.

He shook his head. “Nah, I’m allergic to peaches.”

“Since when?” She demanded. Belly almost looked like she’d been betrayed, lied to—offended that she didn’t know everything about him. She squinted her eyes at him. “I’ve definitely seen you eat a peach before. Or peach pie, at least.”

He shrugged. “Since always. I’ve eaten them before, but they make the inside of my mouth itch.”

She inhaled the scent of the peach, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Your loss.”

She moaned at the first bite, like she’d been transported to another dimension. “This is a perfect peach.” Her voice coming out in a sigh. “I almost don’t want to have another one, because there’s no way it can be as good.”

Conrad smiled inside. “Let’s test it out,” Conrad said, and he went and bought her another peach.

She ate it in four bites.

“Was it as good?” he asked.

“Yeah. It was.”

She still had some peach juice on her chin and without thinking, Conrad reached out and wiped it away with his shirt. His hand lingered there, and time slowed. It was just him and Belly looking into each other’s eyes. It was so intimate. They were so close. He swallowed. If he wanted to kiss her, he’d only have to lean forward a couple of inches. He wanted to. Even if the peach juice made his mouth itch. When her eyes quickly flickered to his lips and back to his eyes, he shook his head and acted like the sun was too bright behind her.

Time resumed at its normal pace.

Belly was the first to step away. “I’m gonna buy some more, for Jere.”

He was imagining things, seeing what he wanted to see. He wanted to kiss Belly, so he saw her wanting to kiss him back. But she was with Jere, and they were happy.

“Good idea,” he said, backing away, suddenly not trusting his legs to keep him standing. “I’ll go wait for you in the car.”

Neither of them spoke on the way back. Conrad wasn’t even sure he could if he wanted to. Every time he thought about saying something to fill the silence, his mouth remained firmly shut. Belly didn’t say anything either-which was possibly more concerning-and just looked out the window she’d wound down.

Even with the sound of the thrashing wind, the silence between them was glaringly loud.

Jere’s car was in the driveway when they got back, and Conrad felt that pit in his stomach widen. He went straight to his room. When the door closed, Conrad started breathing again.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad stood in the hallway staring at Belly’s closed door. She wasn’t behind it. Belly had left earlier that morning for the wedding shower that Taylor was throwing her. He hadn’t seen her before she left since he was out on a run, but she’d left a note.

Wedding shower, be home soon! 

He’d rubbed his thumb thoughtfully over the word, ‘home’.

Conrad stared at the door. What a difference one person could make. She’d been gone for a couple hours at most, but the house seemed leeched of warmth—despite what the thermostat tried to tell him.

He hadn’t realised the comfort her presence had been until it was gone. Even when they were avoiding in each other, knowing that she was just a couple rooms away breathed life into the house, made it feel alive. Now it was empty, and Conrad was alone.

When the mocking vacancy became too much, Conrad grabbed his keys and hopped in his car.

Conrad found himself at Ernie’s house before he’d even realised where he was going.

Ernie used to run the seafood restaurant in town. Every kid who ever went to Cousins knew who Ernie was, just like Ernie knew every kid. He never forgot a face no matter how old he got. He used to say to Conrad, Steven, and Jere that he’d buy anything they caught on their overnight fishing trips. He always did—even if the haul was trash. Conrad’s biggest score was when he was 14. Ernie forked out $50. He ended up spending the majority of it at the ring toss trying to win Junior Mint. After that summer, Ernie said Conrad would have to start working at the restaurant if he wanted another pay like that again. So, he worked there about two summers.

Conrad had been trying to visit once a week since he’d been back. He’d gotten a slap upside the head the first time he came over. Ernie was not impressed he’d been gone so long without visiting. Explaining that he’d been on the other side of the country studying medicine was apparently not a good enough reason to miss visits.

As Conrad arrived, he saw Ernie’s deadbeat nephew pull out.

“Did you bring me a cigarette?” Ernie asked me from the couch when he entered.

He always asked it. He used to catch Conrad around town smoking that summer Conrad found out Susannah’s cancer had come back. Other adults had scolded him, but Ernie just asked for one and they’d smoke quietly. He never offered Conrad any, despite the fact he always had a full carton in his chest pocket, he only ever asked Conrad for one of his.

“No,” Conrad took a seat. “I quit.”

“Then get the hell out.”

Then he laughed, and the TV ticked onto one of those old cop shows they watched together and ate peanuts in silence, only talking during ad breaks.

“Did you hear my brother’s getting married next weekend?” Conrad asked.

He snorted. “I’m not in the ground yet, boy. ’Course I heard. Everybody’s heard. She’s a sweet girl. Used to curtsy at me when she was little.”

“That’s because we told her you used to be a prince in Italy but then you became a mafioso. The Godfather of Cousins.” Conrad grinned, thinking about the way Belly’s curtsies would wobble from the pressure.

“Damn straight.”

The show came back on, and they watched in comfortable quiet. Then, at the next break, Ernie said, “So are you gonna cry about it like a punk, or are you gonna do something?”

Conrad almost choked on his peanut. Coughing, he said, “What are you talking about?”

Ernie snorted again. “Don’t be cute with me. You love her, right? She’s the one?”

“Ernie, I think you forgot to take your meds today. Where’s your pillbox?” Conrad made a show of looking for it.

Ernie waved him off with one bony white hand, his attention back on the TV. “Simmer down. Show’s back on.”

Waiting for the next ad break felt like waiting for paint to dry. Conrad never thought he’d be begging for the ads to come back on.

When they finally came on, he tried to ask casually, “Do you really believe in that? That people are meant to be with one person?”

Shelling a nut, he said, “Sure I do. Elizabeth was my one. When she passed, I didn’t figure a reason to look for another one. My girl was gone. Now I’m just biding my time. Get me a beer, will you?”

Conrad got up and got a one from out of the fridge.

“Hey, what was John doing over here?” Conrad asked. “I saw him on my way in.”

“He came to mow my lawn.”

Conrad lifted his eyebrow. “I thought that was my job,”

“You do a shit job of edging.”

“When did you guys even start speaking again?” Conrad held out the beer, and Ernie took it.

Ernie shrugged and popped a peanut into his mouth. “He’s probably just sniffing around here so I leave him my property when I kick it.” He drank his beer and leaned back into his easy chair. “Eh, he’s a good kid. My sister’s only son. He’s family. Family’s family. Never forget that, Conrad.”

“Ernie, two commercial breaks ago, you told me that if I didn’t try and break up my brother’s wedding, I was a punk!”

Picking at his teeth, Ernie said, “If a girl’s the one, all bets are off, family or no family.”

Conrad stayed for a couple more hours, but he felt lighter when he left.

“Conrad?”

“Hm?” He looked up from where he was reading at the kitchen table. Belly was sitting at the counter. She was hugging one leg to her chest with her chin resting on it as the other dangled down from where she sat. She looked at home.

“I have a favour to ask.”

Conrad squinted at her suspiciously. “What do you want, Conklin?

She bit her bottom lip. “Do you think you could play guitar as I walk down the aisle with dad?”

His chest threatened to collapse. Conrad looked down at his book. “I don’t know, Belly. Don’t you want to hire someone instead? I’m not that good.”

“Conrad,” He looked up at the sound of his name in a plea. Her eyes were big. “It would mean so much if it was you.”

It would mean so much if it was you. God, he’d really accept crumbs of affection at this point. How could he turn her down when she went and said something like that?

He exhaled loudly, “Okay, but I’m playing Wonderwall.”

She laughed, and he knew it was worth it to say yes.

As the wedding approached, Conrad found himself spending more time on the water. Was it ironic that he felt more grounded in the surf? If he needed time with his thoughts, he would sit on his board and let the waves pass him. If he needed to drown them out instead, he’d find himself in the barrel where the only thing he could think about is keeping upright.

That morning, he’d taken wave after wave. It was bound to catch up to him. On his last wave, he’d acted too late, and it cost him. It swallowed him whole and spit him out like he was nothing. As the water thrashed him about, he felt a sharp pain in his leg as his board’s fin sliced into him. He practically washed up onto shore after that.

He stopped what bleeding he could with his towel, but he was feeling woozy. He stumbled his way back to the house.

Belly turned the vacuum off when he opened the door and came in.

“What’s wrong?” She dropped the handle and rushed over to him, so Conrad figured he looked as bad as he felt.

“Wipeout,” he said. “I got cut by my fin.”

“Bad?”

“Nah, not too bad.” Conrad limped over to the bathroom, and she ran over. He was sitting on the sill of the tub, and blood was soaking through his towel and running down his leg. Belly balked at the sight.

“It’s already stopped bleeding,” Conrad explained, trying to comfort her, but he felt like he might pass out. “Looks worse than it is.”

“Keep putting pressure on it. I’m gonna get some stuff to clean it.”

He didn’t have the energy to argue with her about it. He could barely keep upright.

She came back and straddled the sill, hydrogen peroxide and gauze and Bactine in hand.

“Let go,” Belly told him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

“No, you’re not fine.” There was no room in her tone for argument.

He let go of the towel, and Belly pressed down on it. He winced.

“Sorry,” She said.

Belly kept pressure for a couple more minutes, before peeling the bloody towel away from his leg. The cut was a few inches long and skinny. The bleeding had pretty much stopped like he’d said. Belly pour hydrogen peroxide on the wound. His skin stung.

“Ow!” he yelped.

“Don’t be such a baby, it’s barely a scratch.” She was lying. If she wasn’t, her mouth wouldn’t be flattened into that thin line.

It was becoming an effort to sit up straight. Conrad felt his sight blacken at the edges and worried that he might actually pass out.

He leaned closer to Belly and rested his forehead against her shoulder, just barely. He focused on his breaths. In, out. He focused on the way Belly smelt. It was familiar, grounding. He still couldn’t help the sharp intakes of breath he took every time she touched the wound.

Eventually, she patted his knee. She’d wrapped his calf up in gauze. “See? All better.”

He lifted his head up and said, “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

He hadn’t moved his head far from her shoulder. He could still smell her. Their eyes met, and they were just looking at each other, holding each other’s gaze. Conrad noticed that her breath quickened, and again, he saw that gaze fall to his lips. He didn’t know what to do about it.

“Belly?” It was a whisper. She could probably feel his breath on her neck.

“Yeah?” Her voice came out just as quiet, her eyes meeting his again.

I still love you. The thought reverberated through him. He swallowed it.

“Will you help me stand up? I’m going to go upstairs and take a nap.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Her voice loud, the spell broken. “I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep.”

He smiled weakly. “That’s with concussions.”

Belly scrambled up and then pulled him up next to me. “Can you walk?”

“I’ll manage,” he said, limping away from her, his hand on the wall.

Maybe he hadn't imagined it the other day at the peach stand, that she might want to kiss him back. Even if she did, she was still marrying Jere. The wedding was only days away. Conrad had to accept it. He had to keep his distance, just these last couple days.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Everything just went back to normal after that. Conrad wouldn’t let it be any other way. They didn’t need to act like something happened because nothing happened. It was the blood loss. It was all in his head. They’d both just had a temporary moment of insanity. Nothing happened. Except when he went to sleep it off, he dreamt they were still together.

Everyone else arrived the next day, Steven, Taylor, Jere, and their friends from college.

Conrad pulled Steven into a quick hug, just thankful to see someone who didn’t cause him too many conflicting emotions.

“Where’s your better half?” Conrad asked.

“Ah, Shayla’s grandma had a fall so she couldn’t make it for Belly’s bachelorette, but she’ll still be here for the wedding in a couple days.”

They walked into the kitchen, Conrad leaning against the counter.

“Me, Jere, and his mates are gonna head out for a surf. You in?” Steven was already pulling a beer from the fridge and taking a sip. The man never wasted any time.

“Yeah, we could probably—”

“Absolutely not,” Belly had walked into the kitchen as he’d started saying it, reaching for a glass of water. “Conrad, you got your ass kicked out there yesterday. You’re not going anywhere near the water until your bandage comes off.”

Conrad was saved from having to reply as Steven took notice of the bandage on his leg. “Oh, gee man, that does look pretty gnarly. Belly’s probably right.”

Conrad sneered at Belly, and she poked her tongue out. Taylor started calling for her from upstairs, and Belly started heading towards the stairs, but wanted the last word. With a mocking shake of her head and a smile, she said, “What are they even teaching you in med school?”

Conrad threw a scrunched-up piece of paper at her back, and she laughed as she disappeared.

“Guess I’m staying here.” He said to Steven who shrugged and took another sip of his beer.

“Sorry, dude. She can be a real hard ass.”

“You’re telling me.”

“I heard that!” Her voice echoed from wherever she was, out of their sight, but apparently not out of earshot.

Conrad and Steven shared a knowing look.

He’d offered to cook dinner for them that night. He felt awkward with the house being filled with Belly’s and Jere’s friends, after two months of it just being the two of them for the most part— an outsider in his own home. The reality of their wedding was really starting to sink in now. It wasn’t just happening soon. It was happening in two days.

They all sat around the table drinking red wine and beer, eating the steak and vegetables he’d grilled. Belly and Jere sat at the head of the table; his arm slung around her chair. Conrad sat at the other, near Belly’s friend Anika from college. She had this easy-goingness about her that Taylor had never possessed, but Conrad could see why Belly had become friends with her.

Anika had brought up the fact that they’d seen the seafood restaurant as they’d driven into town, and Conrad explained that he was friends with the old owner, Ernie. He told her about how they’d told Belly he was a mafioso, and she laughed. In his periphery, he saw Belly look away from them.

He’d been so aware of her. He tried to look at her as little as possible, but not so little that someone could tell he was trying not to look at her. He didn’t know how, but Conrad always knew when she was looking at him too. It was the difference between being in the sun and the shade, not realising the heat but regretting the loss of it.

One of Jere’s friends stood up, “To Belly and J-Fish, a really”—he belched—“amazing couple. Really freaking amazing.”

Everyone lifted their drinks, and Conrad followed suit with a tight-lipped smile.

It was a terrible time to look at the amazing couple, as Jeremiah pulled Belly to her, kissing her on the lips. A swift kick to the stomach would have been more enjoyable. The mask he’d put on to cover his anguish throughout this whole ordeal slipped, just slightly. He looked away, feeling that tell-tale sun lighting him up as he did.

Then Steven said, “One more toast, guys.” Awkwardly, he stood up. “I’ve known Jere my whole life. Belly too, unfortunately.”

Belly threw a napkin at him.

“You guys are good together,” Steven said, looking at her. Then he looked at Jeremiah. “Treat her right, man. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s the only sister I’ve got.”

Belly got up and hugged him. “You jerk,” she said, wiping her eyes.

She sat back down next to Jere, and he said, “I guess I should say something too. First, thanks for coming, you guys. Josh, Redbird. Taylor and Anika. It means a lot to have you here with us.”

Belly stared at Jeremiah pointedly, but he just added, “You say something too, Belly.”

“Thanks for coming. And, Conrad, thanks for this amazing meal. Really freaking amazing.”

Everyone laughed, and Conrad felt his ears go hot. He lifted his beer in recognition.

The girls stayed home, while the boys left to go to the bar. Conrad volunteered to be the DD, since everyone else was already pretty sloppy before they even left the house.

The bar was packed. Jere’s friends flocked to the girls like moths to flames but had little to no success.

Conrad went up to the bar to get the first round, and Steven followed. They were waiting to get the bartender’s attention when he clapped his hand on Conrad’s shoulder and said, “So how are you doing with this whole thing?”

“What? The wedding?”

“Yeah.”

Steven wasn’t exactly dumb. It shouldn’t have surprised him that he might notice the way Conrad acted, the way he felt.

Conrad turned away from him. “It is what it is.”

“Do you think it’s a mistake?”

He was saved from answering him because the bartender finally looked their way. “Five double shots of tequila and a Newcastle.”

Steven said, “You’re not going to take a shot with us?”

“I’ve got to take care of you numskulls, remember?”

They met with the other guys at the table. They were all quick to down their shots, and Redbird got up and started beating his chest and yelling like Tarzan. The guys busted up laughing and started egging him on to go talk to a couple of girls on the dance floor. Steven got roped into trying to wingman him since it was some girl he used to work with at the country club.

Redbird was rejected, but Steven stayed out there catching up with her since it turned out they were doing the same degree too.

“I’ll get us another round,” Conrad said. Since he was the best man, he figured it was his duty to get them all properly wasted.

He came back with more shots, and since Steven still hadn’t returned to the table, Jere drank his too.

Conrad was nursing his beer when Jere’s friend, Josh, said to Jere, “Dude, you’re finally gonna get to close with Belly.”

Conrad’s head snapped up. Jeremiah had his arm slung around Josh while he sang, “It’s a nice day for a white wedding.”

Jere and Belly had been together for two years—Hell, they were getting married in two days­—and they hadn’t had sex yet? He’d just assumed. Jere had slept with his first girlfriend within a month of dating, a fact Conrad only knew because he had accidentally caught them in Jere’s car in the driveway. He was still horrified to think about it. A scene of a certain Christmas flashed in Conrad’s memory. Passionate kisses, wandering hands… He’d just assumed.

Then Josh said, “Yo, you’re, like, a virgin now too. You haven’t gotten any since Lacie in Cabo.”

Conrad’s stomach dropped out from beneath him. Cabo? Jeremiah had gone to Cabo this past spring break. When he and Belly were a couple.

Jeremiah started to sing, off-key, “Like a virgin, touched for the very first time.” Then he stood up. “I gotta piss.”

Conrad’s eyes tracked him like prey as Jeremiah stumbled off to the bathroom, and Josh said, “Fisher’s a lucky bastard. Lacie is smokin’.”

Tom elbowed him and said, loudly, “Shit, remember how they locked us out of the hotel room?” To Conrad, he said, “This is hilarious, man. Hilarious. They locked us out, and they were so into it, they didn’t even hear us knocking. We had to sleep in the friggin’ hallway that night.”

Laughing, Josh said, “That girl was hella loud, too. Oh, Jere-uhhh-mi-uhhh . . .”

Conrad saw red. Anger like he’d never known welled up in him. His brother had cheated on Belly. The one girl Conrad loved. The one girl that Conrad had given up, had let get away, so she could be happy with his brother. His brother who he’d trusted to take care of her. Now, here was him and his friends talking so casually two days before their wedding about some girl he’d slept with. He would kill him.

Conrad jumped up from the table, shouldering and pushing his way through the crowd until he got to the bathroom.

He banged on the door, grateful to be hitting something.

“Somebody’s in here,” Jeremiah slurred from inside. Then he retched into the toilet.

Conrad waited, jaw clenched. Then he walked out of the bar and to the parking lot.

He drove them home. His jaw felt like it had been welded shut. He couldn’t speak. They were all acting like nuisances in the back. Jere had to be carried out of the bar and to the car, he was so drunk.

When Conrad pulled into the driveway, he parked and just left. Jeremiah could figure out how to get inside himself. Conrad needed to be far, far away from him.

He found himself taking a seat on one of the lifeguard stands, watching the ocean lap at the shore. Conrad tried to match his breathing to it to wade through the rage he felt eating him up.

He thought he might be able to manage it, until he heard her voice and it all returned. “Come down. Don’t fall asleep up there.”

“Come up.” It felt like the first time he’d spoken in days. “Just for a minute.”

She didn’t do it immediately, but then she had climbed up and sat next to them. Her leg grazed his and he felt his body tingle. He moved his leg away slightly. Now was not the time for his emotions, for his feelings. Not with what he had to tell her.

“Did you guys have fun?” She asked.

He didn’t reply. How could he say this to her? How could he break her heart like this?

She looked out at the water. “I love it here at night.”

He just had to do it. Say it. Get it out there. “I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

He still couldn’t look at her, didn’t want to see if her face would crumple like it had that night in the motel. “Jere cheated on you when he was in Cabo.” She didn’t say anything, so he continued, “Tonight at the club, one of his dumbass friends said something.”

He turned to her then. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth slightly dropped. No sign of tears, but he assumed that she was just shocked. “I’m sorry you had to hear it from me. I just thought you had a right to know.”

She blinked. Again. Nodding slowly, “I already knew about it.”

Conrad jerked his head back. “You knew?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re still marrying him?”

Her face turned red. “He made a mistake,” she said softly. “He hates himself for what he did. I forgave him. Everything’s fine now. Everything’s really great.”

Conrad’s mouth curled in disgust. “Are you kidding me? He spent the night in a hotel room with some girl and you’re defending him?”

“Who are you to judge us? It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business? That shithead is my brother, and you’re . . .” He didn’t finish his sentence. What could he even say, his girl? The love of his life? This wasn’t about them. Instead he said, “I never thought you’d be the kind of girl who would put up with that from a guy.”

“I put up with a lot worse from you.”

She may as well have slapped him. Conrad’s eyes flashed. His voice came out low, angry, “I never once cheated on you. I never even looked at another girl when we were together.”

Belly slid away from him and started to climb down. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“I thought I knew you,” he said.

It was like she’d morphed into someone completely unrecognisable in these minutes he’d been talking to her. A couple minutes ago it had been Belly sitting up here with him, now it was some stranger trying to escape him.

“I guess you thought wrong,” She replied, jumping down the rest of the way.

She was already walking away when Conrad jumped down to follow her. He ran up and grabbed her arm to stop her. Belly turned her head away from him, and Conrad could see tears threatening to spill over the threshold. God, it was breaking his heart. Somehow this conversation had gone way worse than he’d planned.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You’re right. It’s not my business.”

She spun away from him, in the complete opposite direction of the house, just trying to get away from him. She was always getting away from him. Always leaving or disappearing, and he was always letting her. Maybe she and Jere weren’t as happy as he’d thought. Maybe all those moments he’d imagined her wanting to kiss him back were real. It was his only chance to find out. If, for no other reason than the sake of his sanity, he had to say it.

He called out, “I still love you.”

She froze mid-step as if someone had pressed pause on a movie. And then slowly, she turned around to look at him. “Don’t say that.”

The colour had drained out of her face. The ghosts of the past were coming to haunt her, to possess her.

Conrad swallowed. He’d said it now. He had to keep going.

He took a step closer. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get you out of my system, not completely. I have . . . this feeling. That you’ll always be there. Here.” Conrad clawed at his heart and then dropped his hand.

“It’s only because I’m marrying Jeremiah.” Her voice was small. Her eyes were blinking fast and moving wildly, trying to make sense of what he was saying, trying to rationalise something that went against how he had acted all this time. “That’s why you’re saying all this all of a sudden.”

“It’s not all of a sudden,” he said, his eyes locked on hers. He needed her to hear him, her to understand. “It’s always.”

Her head shook the slightest amount. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.” Belly turned away from him.

“Wait,” he said. He grabbed her arm again.

“Let go of me,” Her voice was ice, like nothing he’d ever heard from her before.

He flinched, and his hand dropped. “Just tell me one thing. Why get married now?” he said. “Why not just live together?”

Belly opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.

She started to walk away, but Conrad followed. He wrapped his arms around her, over her shoulders.

“Let go.” Belly struggled, but he held on.

“Wait. Wait.”

“If you don’t let go of me, I’m going to scream.”

“Hear me out, just for a minute. Please. I’m begging you.” He sounded strangled and hoarse.

She let out a breath through her nose, but she didn’t scream, she didn’t keep struggling, so Conrad took that as permission to continue.

Quietly, he said, “Two years ago, I fucked up. But not in the way you think. That night—do you remember that night? The night we were driving back from school and it was raining so hard, we had to stop at that motel. Do you remember?”

She didn’t say anything, but her body shivered slightly in his arms.

“That night, I didn’t sleep at all. I stayed up, thinking about what to do. What was the right thing to do? Because I knew I loved you. But I knew I shouldn’t. I didn’t have the right to love anybody then. After my mom died, I was so pissed off. I had this anger in me all the time. I felt like I was going to erupt any minute.”

He drew his breath in. “I didn’t have it in me to love you the way you deserved. But I knew who did. Jere. He loved you. If I kept you with me, I was going to hurt you somehow. I knew it. I couldn’t have it. So I let you go.”

Her breathing had become more apparent. In. Out. In. Out. He wasn’t sure how long her silence would last.

“But this summer… God, this summer. Being near you again, talking the way we used to talk. You looking at me the way you used to. I see you again, and everything I planned goes to shit. It’s impossible… I love Jere more than anybody. He’s my brother, my family. I hate myself for doing this. But when I see you two together, I hate him too.” His voice broke. “Don’t marry him. Don’t be with him. Be with me.”

His shoulders shook. He was crying. It was all he desperately wanted. Them together. Screw Jeremiah after what he’d done to Belly. Even if she had forgiven him, Conrad couldn’t. He could do it right now, not like two years ago.

The spell finally broke. Her patience had come to an end. Belly broke away from him roughly. “Conrad—”

He grabbed her. “Just tell me. Do you still feel anything for me?”

Belly pushed him away. “No! Don’t you get it? You will never be what Jere is to me. He’s my best friend. He loves me no matter what. He doesn’t take it away whenever he feels like it. Nobody has ever treated me the way he does. Nobody. Least of all you.”

His heart fractured. This is how she remembered him. Someone who takes and breaks and leaves at his own desire. Someone who couldn’t be relied on consistently. Belly had always been his port in the storm, but to her, Conrad was the storm.

“You and I,” She started. She stopped and took a deep breath, trying to get it right. “You and I were never anything.”

Belly had reached into his chest and ripped out his heart and crushed it in her hands. His face went slack. Her gaze dropped to the ground.

When she started walking again, Conrad didn’t chase her, and she didn’t look back.

He stayed there, right where she left him.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad had lain in bed that night and not slept a wink. His heart pumped ice-cold razor blades throughout his body.

You and I were never anything.

The words travelled from his fractured heart through his lungs and his stomach and all the way to his toes. He knew she didn’t mean it. Conrad thought of the first time they’d kissed. Conrad thought of the first Christmas they spent together. Conrad thought of their Valentine’s Day. He knew she didn’t mean it. Maybe everything he’d seen since she’d been back in Cousins with him this time around, maybe all of that was fake, stuff he’d imagined. But everything before that, before he’d torn it all down the first time? That had been something. He knew it from the looks they’d shared, the kisses, the quiet whispers. It had been something.

Conrad ran into her as she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in nothing but a towel. She couldn’t even meet his eyes, and reality hit him. He had to get out of the house, even just a little while. He grabbed his car keys and started driving.

He didn’t have a destination in mind. Just the act of driving familiar streets had always been calming. When he first started at college, he’d enjoyed driving around really early in the morning when everyone else was sleeping. This didn’t have exactly the same feel, but it would do.

He’d spent all night thinking of that one line. He’d barely thought about the rest. He’d admitted to his brother’s fiancée that he was in love with her, that he always had been. He thought the earth might swallow him whole when he thought about facing either of them again. He was still a best man. He was supposed to playing the guitar as she walked down the aisle.

Conrad found himself stopped in front of the grocery store, and his stomach grumbled. He went inside and got some stuff to make him a sandwich when he got home.

As he drove home, he made a decision. He would apologise. He couldn’t leave his heart out there teetering on the ledge in her hands, so he would just say he was drunk. Conrad had maybe three beers at most, but it wouldn’t matter. He needed to come back from this.

He went into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich.

Conrad was about halfway through it when Belly came into the kitchen. She froze like a deer in headlights, he needed to make sure she didn’t run before he spoke again. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“I’m about to go into town to run some errands,” She wasn’t looking at him—couldn’t. She was looking at a spot slightly over his shoulder. “Wedding stuff.”

Belly started to walk away, but he followed her out to the porch.

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night.”

He was. He was so sorry. Sorry that he’d opened his stupid mouth and said everything that his heart had begged him to.

She didn’t say anything.

“Will you do me a favour? Will you just forget everything I said? I was out of my mind last night, drunk off my ass. Being here again, it just brought back a lot of stuff. But it’s all ancient history, I know that.” He hated how the lies tasted on his tongue, but they were necessary. He flashed a slight, ironic kind of smile to cover it. “Honestly, I can barely remember what I said, but I’m sure that whatever it was, it was out of line. I’m really sorry.”

Looking at Belly, he was reminded of when Laurel had talked Adam out of selling the house. Her eyes were lit with such intense fury that Conrad was concerned he was about to burst into flames. He wondered if this is what Adam had felt staring down Laurel that time. Still, Conrad had to keep his composure if this was going to work.

Belly’s mouth opened and closed and opened and closed, until finally she managed to say, in a somewhat even tone, “You weren’t drunk.”

“Yeah, I really was.” This time he gave her an apologetic smile.

“You brought up all that the weekend of my wedding, and now you want me to just ‘forget it’? You’re sick. Don’t you get that you can’t play with people like that?”

Conrad’s smile faded. “Hold on a second. Belly—”

“Don’t say my name.” She backed away from him. “Don’t even think it. In fact, don’t ever speak to me again.”

He couldn’t live a world like that. He couldn’t even imagine it. He’d moved across the country, and she’d still captivated his thoughts. Conrad could still fix this. He could play it off.

Again with the ironic half smile, he said, “Well, that would be kind of hard, considering the fact that you’re marrying my brother. Come on, Belly.”

Anger. Disgust. Annoyance. It all played out on her face.

“I want you to leave,” She spat. It was so unlike her, and Conrad regretted that, again, he was turning her into a different person. “Make up one of your bullshit excuses and just go. Go back to Boston or California. I don’t care where. I just want you gone.”

His eye twitched. “I’m not leaving.”

“Go,” She said, shoving him, hard. “Just go.”

His composure failed him. He could only hold a shattered heart together with duct tape for so long.

His voice cracking, he said, “What did you expect me to say to you, Belly?”

“Stop saying my name!” She screamed.

“What do you want from me?” he yelled back. “I laid myself fucking bare last night! I put it all out there, and you shut me down. Rightfully so. I get that I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff to you. But now here I am trying to find a way to come out of this with just a little fragment of pride so I can look you in the eye when this is all over, and you won’t even let me have that. You broke my heart last night, all right? Is that what you want to hear?”

She looked at a loss for words until she said, “You really are heartless.”

“No, I think you might actually be the heartless one,” he said.

He turned on his heel, reaching into his pocket for his car keys.

Behind him, Belly called, “What is that supposed to mean?” She walked up right behind and twisted his arm toward me so they were facing each other. “Tell me what you meant by that.”

“You know what it means.” Conrad jerked away from her. “I still love you. I never stopped. I think you know it. I think you’ve known it all along.”

Her eyes flickered for a moment. There. There it was. She’d shoved her love for him behind the shutters, away from the light. It was there. He hadn’t been imagining it.  

Her lips formed a straight line. She shook her said, but her voice was softer than it had been. “That’s not true.”

“Don’t lie.”

She had to have known. Apparently, everyone else did. Laurel knew when she asked meaningfully over her coffee cup. Steven knew when he clapped him on the back and asked how he was handling the wedding. Jere knew in those looks he would throw Conrad whenever he and Belly had been left alone or after every kiss Jere planted on her lips. Conrad knew in every moment, every word, every silence. He knew it in the distance and the lack of it. They all knew. Why didn’t she?

She shook her head again. She could deny it all she wanted, but the truth was written all over her face. She couldn’t hide it anymore. Neither could he.

“Have it your way. But I’m not going to pretend for you anymore.” With that, he walked down the steps and to his car.

In his review mirror, he saw her sink onto the deck.

His heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d driven away.

The words were finally out in the open rather than weighing his chest down. It was a relief.  Conrad was in an elated sort of daze, on a high. She loved him. He didn’t need to hear her say it out loud, he just felt the truth of it settled in him.

But now what? So many questions crowded his mind. He thought that if he asked her to go with her, she would, but where would that leave everyone else. Jere, Laurel, Adam. It would hurt them all. Would they ever forgive them? And, aside from that, where would he be leading her if he took her away.

Underneath it all, regret festered. He kicked himself. Why had he waited so long? Of all the times he could have told her, could have come clean, he waited until the day before her wedding. Twenty-four hours later and she’d be married to his brother.

He drove around town for a while and to the water, but before long there was nowhere else to go but back home. Everyone’s cars were gone when he got back, and he sighed with relief until he saw Taylor sitting on the front porch.

“Where is everybody?” Conrad asked her.

“Well hello to you, too.” She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. “They went sailing.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

“I get seasick.” Taylor eyed Conrad. “I need to talk to you.”

Warily, he eyed her back. “About what?”

She pointed at the chair next to hers. “Come sit down first.”

Conrad sat.

He didn’t know what to expect. He hadn’t had much to do with Taylor except the couple times she’d come to the beach house over the summers. The summer he and Belly had gotten together Taylor had some choice words for him over the way he had acted. He didn’t blame her.

“What did you say to Belly last night?”

He averted his eyes. “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing. But I can tell something’s wrong. I know she was crying last night. Her eyes were completely swollen this morning. I would be willing to bet money that she was crying because of you. Again. Nice one, Conrad.”

Belly hadn’t cried when they talked out on the beach. She had definitely been on the verge, but she must have waited until he wasn’t there to see it. His chest tightened, and he replied, “It’s none of your business.”

Taylor glared at him. “Belly is my oldest friend in the world. Of course it’s my business. I’m warning you, Conrad. Leave her alone. You’re confusing her. Again.”

He didn’t want to hear it. Conrad was already confused enough about what to do. He didn’t need Taylor sticking her nose in it as well.

Conrad started to stand up. “Are we done?”

“No. Sit your ass back down.”

He sat down again.

“Do you have any idea how badly you’ve hurt her, over and over again? You treat her like a toy that you just pick up and play with whenever you feel like it. You’re like a little boy. Someone else took what was yours, and you don’t like that one bit, so you swoop in and shit all over everything just because you can.”

Conrad exhaled. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”

She bit her lip. “Belly told me that a part of her will always love you. Are you still trying to tell me you don’t care?”

Hope swelled in his chest so much so it hurt to breathe. “I never said I didn’t care.”

“You’re probably the only one who could stop her from going though with this wedding. But you’d better be damn sure you still want her, because if you don’t, you’re just fucking up their lives for no reason.” She put her sunglasses back on. “Don’t fuck up my best friend’s life, Conrad. Don’t be a selfish bastard like usual. Be the good guy she says you are. Let her go.”

Be the good guy she says you are.

Conrad thought he’d resolved to fight for her, to say ‘screw it’, and take her hand and run without a thought for anyone else, but then he wouldn’t be that good guy she thought he was. He’d be the selfish bastard Taylor said he is. But he’d have Belly.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

 Torture. That’s what dinner that night was.

They’d all gone to the new restaurant in town, all the kids and their parents too. Conrad sat as far away as physically possible from the happy couple which, unfortunately, seated him right next Jere’s asshole friends.

Belly wasn’t looking at him like last time, and Conrad couldn’t look at her. He felt like he was going out of his mind. Sitting there at the table with everyone, cheersing when his dad made a toast, trying not to watch when Jere kissed her in front of all of them.

He hated the contempt that pulsed through him at the sight of Jere, especially around Belly. Jere was still his brother who he loved dearly, but it had already been hard enough accepting Jere and Belly’s relationship before he’d heard he slept with some girl in Cabo. Now it was nearly impossible. Made worse by the fact that he now knew that Belly loved him back too.

It was just Laurel and Conrad at the house after dinner. They’d come straight back when Jere and Belly took their friend’s for ice cream at the boardwalk and John and Adam went back to their hotels.

Conrad placed one foot on the stairs, intending to just go crash, when Laurel stopped him, “Hey, let’s have a beer, Connie. I think we deserve it, don’t you?”

They sat at the kitchen table with their beers. She clinked his beer, saying, “To . . . what should we toast to?”

“What else? To the happy couple.”

Bitterness laced his tongue.

Without looking at him, Laurel said, “How are you doing?”

“Good.” He played with the label on the bottle. “Great.”

“Come on. This is your Laura you’re talking to. Tell me. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly?” Conrad swigged his beer. “It’s pretty much killing me.”

He hadn’t admitted it to anyone else. He’d avoided it when the topic had been broached, but the last few days had him feeling like a raw nerve.

Laurel looked back at him, her face tender. “I’m sorry. I know you love her a lot, kid. This must be really hard on you.”

He couldn’t reply, his throat was closing up. Pressure was building up behind his eyes. He was going to cry in front of her. It was the way she’d said it, Conrad felt like his mum was right there, knowing without him having to tell her.

He felt so empty. He just wanted his mum. If she was here, everything would make sense, he could get through this. Maybe they wouldn’t even be here at all. Maybe it would have been him and Belly. They’d be happy and in love and it’d be a summer just like any of the others where they were all together. The animosity wouldn’t be pulling them apart.

Laurel reached over and took his hand in hers. It was slightly rougher than Susannah’s had been. He tried to pull it away, but she held on tighter.

“We’ll get through it tomorrow, I promise. It’ll be you and me, kid.” Squeezing his hand, she said, “God, I miss your mom.”

“Me too.” He bit his lip. It threatened to quiver.

“We really need her right now, don’t we?”

Conrad couldn’t hold it in anymore. He bowed my head and started to cry. Laurel stayed holding onto him.

His dreams were the only place he got to experience anything pleasant these days, so he was not impressed when Steven shook his bed, waking him.

“Have you seen Jere?” he demanded.

“I was asleep until three seconds ago,” Conrad muttered, eyes still closed, hoping he could recapture the dream. He couldn’t remember anything other than a silky sensation through his fingers and some twinkling fairy lights. “How could I have seen him?”

Steven stopped shaking the bed and sat down on the edge. “He’s gone, man. I can’t find him anywhere, and he left his phone. What the hell happened last night?”

Conrad shot upright, swearing internally. Belly must have told him. Why else would Jeremiah be missing on the day of his wedding without any of the essentials? “I don’t know,” Conrad said, rubbing his eyes.

“What are we gonna do?”

Conrad got up, and started putting on whatever clothes he could find. “Go ahead and get dressed. I’ll look for him. Don’t tell Belly anything.”

Steven wasn’t sure about keeping Belly out of the loop, but Conrad convinced him that if he wasn’t back in an hour, he could tell her. He’d also told Steven that he thought he knew where Jere was, but that was a fat lie. He had no idea, but he knew that he broke it, so he had to be the one to fix it.

Laurel stopped him on the way out, saying she was looking for Jere too to give him something. Conrad lied to her too, saying that Jere was out getting something for the wedding and that Conrad was going to meet him now. When he offered to give it to him, she gave him an envelope from his mother’s stationary with Jere’s name on the front.

Smiling, Laurel said, “You know, I think it might be nicer this way, coming from you. Beck would like that, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I think she would.” There was no way Conrad was coming back without Jere.

He didn’t have any idea where Jere would have gone, so Conrad couldn’t do anything but drive around and check place in Cousins. Conrad checked his watch every 10 seconds, overly aware that his hour was slipping away. He was just praying that Jeremiah hadn’t gone to Boston.

Where would Jeremiah go if he was upset? To Susannah. But where? In Cousins she was everywhere. Then it came to him—the garden. Maybe Jere had gone to the garden at the shelter.

He called Steven and got an extra half an hour before Steven would tell Belly that Jere was missing.

Pulling into the parking lot, Conrad spotted Jere’s car straight away. Equal measures of relief and dread flooded his body. He’d found Jere, but it was Conrad’s fault he’d even disappeared in the first place.

Jere was sitting on a bench by the garden, his head in his hands. He was still in last night’s clothes. His head snapped up when he heard Conrad coming. “I’m warning you, man. Don’t come near me right now.”

I kept walking. When I was standing right in front of him, I said, “Come back to the house with me.”

He glowered. “Fuck you.”

“You’re supposed to be getting married in a couple of hours. We don’t have time to do this right now. Just hit me. It’ll make you feel better.” Conrad tried to pick up Jere’s arm, and he shoved him off.

“No, it’ll make you feel better. You don’t deserve to feel better. But after the shady shit you pulled, I should beat the crap out of you.”

“Then do it,” Conrad said. “And then let’s go. Belly’s waiting for you. Don’t make her wait on her wedding day.”

“Shut up!” he yelled, lunging at Conrad, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “You don’t get to talk to me about her.”

Conrad had never seen this side of Jere before. Conrad had been the one quick to anger. Jeremiah had always hated when he fought. He never seemed to have a hateful bone in his body. Now, Jere had this terrible look in his eyes, and it was Conrad’s fault.

“Come on, man. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Why? Because you still love her, right?” He didn’t wait for Conrad to answer. “What I want to know is, if you still had feelings for her, why did you give me the go-ahead, huh? I did the right thing. I didn’t go behind your back. I asked you, straight up. You told me you were over her.”

“You weren’t exactly asking for my permission when I walked in on you kissing her in your car. Yeah, I still gave you the go-ahead, because I trusted you to take care of her and treat her right. Then you go and cheat on her in Cabo during spring break. So maybe I should be the one asking if you love her or not.” As soon as I got the last word out, Jere’s fist was connecting with Conrad’s face, hard. It was like getting hit with a ten-foot wave—all I could hear was the ringing in his ears. Conrad staggered backward. “Good.” He gasped. “Can we get out of here now?”

He punched him again. This time Conrad fell to the ground. The taste of metal filled his mouth.

“Shut up!” he yelled. “Don’t talk to me about who loves Belly more. I’ve always loved her. Not you. You treated her like garbage. You left her so many times, man. You’re a coward. Even now, you can’t admit it to my face.”

Breathing hard, Conrad spat out a mouthful of blood and said, “Fine. I love her. I admit it. Sometimes—sometimes I think she’s the only girl I could ever be with. But Jere, she picked you. You’re the one she wants to marry. Not me.” Conrad pulled the envelope out of his pocket, stumbled up, and pushed it at his chest. “Read this. It’s for you, from Mom. For your wedding day.”

Swallowing, he tore the envelope open. Conrad watched him as he read, hoping, knowing, his mom would have the right words. She always knew what to say to Jeremiah.

Jere started to cry as he read, and Conrad turned his head away. He wished that Susannah was here to sort it all out, to talk to them both and calm them down, but the letter would have to do in her absence.

“I’m going back,” he finally said. “But not with you. You’re not my brother anymore. You’re dead to me. I don’t want you at my wedding. I don’t want you in my life. I want you gone.”

“Jere—”

“I hope you said everything you needed to say to her. Because after this, you’re never seeing her again. Or me. It’s over. You and I are done.” He handed Conrad the letter. “This is yours, not mine.”

Then he left.

Conrad sat on the bench and opened the paper up.

Dear Conrad,

My sweet boy. Today is your wedding day and it’s one of my deepest regrets that I am not there to witness it, but I hope that you feel nothing but happiness and excitement. I imagine you in your suit, maybe wearing the cufflinks that your father wore at our wedding, waiting at the alter with bated breath.  

I picture you with someone bright, in all sense of the word— someone radiant. You used to be so scared of the dark, but lately you get so caught up in it, I’m sometimes afraid you’ll forget about the light. I hope she reminds you of it. I hope she keeps you there.

I am grateful, though, that I got to see you in love at least once. Maybe all my hopes and dreams and jokes came true and you’re marrying her. But if destiny has other plans, I just hope she makes you just as happy. I hope that it’s easier for you to express. My dear Connie, I want you to love openly and without restraint. It’s my deepest wish for you.

All my love always, Mum

Then Conrad started crying too.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad made his way back to the house and went straight to his room. He should get out of here, and fast. He didn’t want to cause any more problems than he already had.

Conrad was shoving things into his suitcase too quickly and when he turned around to pick up something else, it fell to the ground, spilling some of the contents on the floor.  

“Shit.” He leant over to put them back in, but something silver caught his eye.

He knew exactly what it was. It was something he’d been carrying around with him, something he hadn’t been able to part with. Belly’s infinity necklace. The one that was meant for her sixteenth birthday. The one he made her give back after he saw her and Jere kiss in the car that first time. It was a bit more coppery now, but it was still the same.

He’d kept it. It had made his way into his bag to California and just sort of stayed there. Conrad never knowing whether to unpack it or not. He hadn’t been able to throw it out, not that he’d tried. Conrad had taken it out a couple times and admired it while lying on his bed, but he always returned it to his suitcase.

Conrad hadn’t touched it since he’d been in Cousins, not while Belly had been in the house. It felt too much like tempting fate. He’d done his best to even forget that it was in there, but there it was, on his bedroom floor.

He was going to follow Jere’s wishes, he would, but Conrad had some final things to say to Belly before he never saw her again— or for a very long time, at least. He finished backing his suitcase and put it by his door. He would get it after.

He gripped the necklace in his hand and knocked on her door. He stepped in.

She wasn’t dressed for the wedding yet.

“Taylor, I need a minute by myself,” she said, turning around.

He must have looked like a sight, all wrinkled and bruised.

She ran over to him, her hand hovering over his face, but not touching it. “What happened? Did you guys get into a fight?”

He shook his head.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Belly said, backing away, remembering herself. “Jeremiah’s coming up any minute.”

“I know, I just need to say something to you.”

She moved back to the window, turning her back on him. “You’ve said plenty. Just go.”

He turned around and closed the door.

“Do you remember infinity?”

Slowly, she turned around. “What about it?”

“Catch.” He let the necklace sail through the air, and she reached out and caught it.

She examined it, and Conrad saw recognition in the delicate way she held it. But she didn’t admit it. She asked, “What is this?”

“You know what it is,” he said.

She shrugged. “Nope, sorry.”

It stung, her feigned ignorance. More than even Jere’s punch had. But it also made him angry.

“Okay, then. You don’t remember it. I’ll remind you. I bought you that necklace for your birthday.”

She closed her eyes, the memory of it all too much. She opened them and approached him.

Taking his hand with a feather light touch, she placed the necklace back in his hand, using her own to close his fingers around it. “I’m sorry.”

Conrad held the necklace out again. Softly, he said, “It belongs to you, always has. I was too afraid to give it to you then. Consider it an early birthday gift. Or a belated one. You can do whatever you want with it. I just—can’t keep it anymore.”

She nodded, and this time she took it. It was just like the first time he’d tried to give it to her, that night on the pier. She hadn’t taken it then, but she’d taken it the second time he’d offered it, that night in her bedroom before summer was over.

“I’m sorry for screwing everything up. I hurt you again, and for that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do that anymore. So . . . I’m not going to stay for the wedding. I’m just going to take off now. I won’t see you again, not for a long time. Probably for the best. Being near you like this, it hurts. And Jere”—Conrad cleared his throat and stepped backward, making space between them—“he’s the one who needs you.”

Her lip was quivering slightly, and she bit it to keep her from crying. Her glassy eyes were still looking into his. He’d probably cry to. He just had to get through this first.

Hoarsely, he said, “I need you to know that no matter what happens, it was worth it to me. Being with you, loving you. It was all worth it.” Then he said, “I wish you both the best. Take good care of each other.”

Conrad went up to her and kissed her forehead. It had been so long since he’d kissed her this way, but it was his final goodbye. He tried to leave all that lasting love in that kiss, tried to part with it, to transfer it all to her, finally, where it belonged.

But as he stepped away, it was still with him. Like always, like he said it would be when they talked on the beach. And she was there, with her eyes closed, like she too was trying to remember this moment. To say goodbye.

He didn’t wait until she had opened them again. Conrad left.

By the time Conrad got back to Boston, the wedding had been called off.

Chapter Text

AUTUMN

CONRAD

Conrad had only been back in California a week. His phone had been blowing up. His dad. Laurel. Steven. Nothing from Jere. Nothing from Belly. He couldn’t reply, didn’t even know how to.

The wedding was off. Jere and Belly were broken up. Conrad was in California. That’s all he knew.

“Agnes, you might have been right.”

“Right about what?” She asked from around her coffee cup.

Conrad and Agnes had remained friends after their little fling last year. She’d distanced herself initially, but then she ended up falling madly in love with a girl from her dorm, and Conrad became an insignificant fling from the past. They’d reinstated their friendship after they kept enrolling in the same classes. It just felt like they had always been meant to be friends. They’d gotten it wrong when they’d been hooking up.

“I’m still in love with that girl we talked about ages ago, Belly.”

“Ah,” She said. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

Conrad rubbed his neck. “I practically broke up her wedding last week.”

Agnes almost dropped her coffee. “No. Way.”

“She was going to marry my brother.”

“I-I-I just—” It was the first time he’d ever left Agnes speechless, usually it had been the other way around. She exhaled. “Man, Conrad, you don’t half-ass anything, do you?”

BELLY

Moving in with Anika had felt like a clean slate. Belly’s stomach had been in knots since the wedding was called off. Jere had told everyone, that was his final act of kindness towards her. He hadn’t gone into too much detail about what happened, but Conrad’s disappearance beforehand was definitely noted, as well as the bruises forming on Jere’s knuckles.

Belly surveyed the now furnished apartment.

Anika sidled up next to Belly and nudged her with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.”

It was nothing like the apartment Jere had wanted, but it was also nothing like the one that Belly had chosen for them either. This apartment was definitely hers and Anika’s. They’d been able to get bits and pieces and put it together, and now it was theirs.

Her heart twinged at the thought of Jeremiah. She felt like she was missing a limb, like an extension of herself had been cut off. They hadn’t talked since the wedding.

“You all good, Belly?” Taylor asked from the couch. She had wasted no time getting comfortable. The movers had all but placed the couch on the floor before she was lounging on it.

She missed Jere. She did. She also still had so much to process about what happened over the summer between her and Conrad, who still loved her. But… There was this feeling of freedom being detached from either of them. For years, her world had been about the Fishers. Now it was time to focus on herself. Boys be damned.

Belly nodded, “I’m good.”

WINTER

CONRAD

Conrad looked at Jere’s profile on his phone. It was filled with photos and videos of him and his friends messing around. They had gone skiing for the winter break instead of going home for Christmas. A ‘friend’s Christmas’ is what his dad had called it. It didn’t look like they were eating much more than junk food and drinking beers and hot chocolate, but it still looked fun. Jere looked happy.

Conrad hadn’t been back to the east coast since the wedding. Maybe he was nearly ready to show his face there again, but not for Christmas, any other holiday but Christmas. That holiday was reserved for one person. It was reserved for two memories.

So, his dad had flown over to California instead. Conrad had offered to set up a blow-up mattress in the lounge room for him but Adam preferred the comfort of a hotel.

They sat at the table sharing a beer. Conrad had cooked a dinner for them both. It was nothing like the family dinners Susannah used to cook for Christmas, but they were still fat and happy, so Conrad counted it as a win.

Adam sighed, “When are you boys going to work things out?”

There was no condemnation in his voice. Adam was just a sad, tired father who missed his sons.

“I don’t know, Dad.”

All of Conrad’s texts had gone unanswered. He didn’t know how to make it right with Jere, but he tried not to push him too far.  

BELLY

“Five…4…3…2…1! Happy New Year!” The party shouted in unison.

Couples around Belly kissed and hugged, and she smiled. After Taylor and Anika finished making out with their boyfriends, she pulled them into a hug and planted fat kisses on their cheeks.

Taylor wiggled her eyebrows, “Belly, looks like that guy over there could do with a New Year’s kiss?”

Belly looked in the direction Taylor was looking and there was a boy looking in her direction. They made eye contact and Belly felt her cheeks flush.

Belly wiggled her eyebrows back at them, “Is that a dare?”

“Oh, it’s more than a dare, Belly,” Anika whispered loudly, “He’s hot.”

Belly looked at him again. He was cute, but she didn’t know if she thought he was hot. She’d seen hot, felt hot, and she didn’t think he was that, but he was definitely New Year’s kiss worthy.

“I’m going in.”

So, she kissed that cute boy and rung in the New Year, and she never saw him again, and that was fine with her. Belly could enjoy things for what they were, moments but not forever.  

SPRING

CONRAD

“Conrad, if you turn down one more pretty girl, I am going to hit you.” Agnes pulled her girlfriend, Betty, tighter into her lap.

Conrad had laughed when Agnes had originally told him that her name was Betty. He’d always thought that Agnes was an old lady name, so it was just like her to find a girl with an old lady name as well. It worked for both of them, but whenever he talked to his other friends about Betty and Agnes, they always thought he was friends with an old lesbian couple.

Conrad laughed, and Betty threw a piece of paper at him. They were outside the library and a girl had come up to ask him out. He’d politely declined.

“What? I’m happy, I’m fine. I don’t want to add a girl into the mix!” It was true for the most part. He was happy. Some things still troubled him, like the fact that he and Jere still had barely spoken, nothing but a couple of frosty texts from Jere, but it was better than complete silence.

“No,” Agnes fixed him with a stern look. “This is still about Belly. Don’t pretend I didn’t catch you looking at her profile earlier.”

Okay, she had him there. Belly was still on his mind. He got most of his information second hand from Laurel or Steven, but he never felt like he could outright ask. He liked to check in on her every now and then, but he hadn’t reached out. Neither had she.

“Come on, Aggie,” Betty said, planting a kiss on the top of Agnes’ head. “The boy’s in love. Leave him be.”

“He’s also sexually frustrated.”

Conrad snorted water out his nose, and Betty tried to cover Agnes’ mouth to stop her from saying more, but she wrestled free. “What? It’s true. You don’t have to deal with him all the time Bet. He’s practically a nuisance now, all he wants to do is study, study, study. It’s driving me insane, actually.”

BELLY

Belly and Jere hadn’t talked for months. They had seen each other around campus every now and again, and they had both been so unsure how to act. Mostly they would wave and smile but neither would approach.

She knew he was dating now. No one serious, but it didn’t make her jealous like she thought it might.

It was the anniversary of Susannah’s death when he texted her, “I miss my mum.”

She thought back to the time she’d told him it could be so hard to look at him sometimes since he and Susannah’s eyes had practically been the same. Jere could have reached out to his dad, or Laurel, or Steven (there was no way he’d reach out to Conrad after everything that had happened), but he reached out to her. They had always had an easy understanding between them. Even after all this time.

“I miss her, too.” Belly replied.

She waited with bated breath for his next text. It took so long to come that she had figured he wasn’t going to send anything else.

“I miss us, too. Our friendship.”

Belly held the phone to her chest. God, she’d missed it too.

“Let’s go visit her.”

Jere and Belly drove up to Boston and sat at the headstone together. They were quiet on their drive there, but their drive back was just like it was before.

SUMMER

CONRAD

Conrad stared at his calendar. It was Belly’s birthday today.

He grabbed his phone and typed out a message. Then he deleted it. Then he typed another and deleted that too.

It had been like this for a year. He’d type messages out, write emails, and nothing would seem right, and he’d get rid of the lot.

They hadn’t spoken in so long, and it was different than the last time. A vacancy had set up shop in his chest. Before, when she was with Jere, he’d been able to fill it with other things, with Agnes, with his study. It was easy too because he hadn’t known then what he knew now. She still loved him too. Well, it had been a year now, so maybe that had changed. It hadn’t changed for him.

BELLY

Belly screamed and Anika came running in. Her hair was only half done. “What? What? What’s going on?”

Belly jumped off her bed and hugged Anika, laughing hysterically. “Oh my god, they approved me for my trip to Spain. It’s a full scholarship and everything. They’ll cover my flights and my accommodation.” She held Anika in front of her. “I’m going to Spain.”

Anika sagged with relief, and she waved a finger. “Iz, I thought you had died. God, you’ve got some lungs on you.”

They just looked at each other for a moment, then smiles spread across their faces.

“You’re going to Spain.”

They both shrieked and jumped up and down.

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me.” Anika sighed, but her eyes were still alight with joy for Belly.

“Oh please, we both know that you’re moving in with Ben at the end of this year.”

Anika rolled her eyes. “How will he ever compare to you though?”

They both laughed.

Then Belly stopped, “Oh god, how am I going to tell my mother, I’m going to Spain for a year.”

Chapter Text

BELLY

When Belly hopped on the plane to go to Spain, she cried. She felt like she was leaving parts of herself at the boarding gate. Her mother, her brother, her friends. All the people she loved would be inaccessible to her in a way they never had been before. The knowledge that she was flying away from everything she’d known—even just for a couple months—brought tears free flowing from her eyes. She was grateful when the flight attendant pretended not to notice.

“Don’t let your passport out of your sight. You have to take it with you everywhere. It’s the law.” Her mother had been hugging her for a solid five minutes giving her advice.

“Mum, I read all the same websites you did. I know. I promise.” Belly looked at Steven for help.

“Okay mum, she’ll miss her flight if you keep this up.” Steven pulled Laurel from her.

Laurel was looking up and blinking as if she could suck any trace of tears right back into her tear ducts. Belly had never seen her mother act like this before, but it warmed her heart to know that her mum cared this much.

“Okay, I guess I better go.” Belly said, but she didn’t move.

It was just the three of them. It felt wrong. It felt empty. Anika and Taylor couldn’t come, so they’d said their tearful goodbyes earlier. But, even accounting for that, they were a few people short.

Belly recalled when they had sent Conrad off for his move to California. It had been all of them together, all the kids, Laurel, and Adam. That’s how this should have been.

Belly’s lip quivered, and she bit it. Not yet. Not in front of her mum and Steven.

She smiled. “I love you, guys.”

She turned on her heel and boarded the plane.

“Taylor, I am telling you, you would have a field day over here.”

Belly had her phone propped up against the bathroom mirror while she adjusted her outfit. Classes had only just started for the semester, but Belly was able to come a couple weeks early to a do a little bit of exploring. Tonight, some girls from uni had invited her out for dinner. They didn’t mind that her Spanish was broken or that she showed up late half the time since she still had no clue how to get around. Belly had put on some lipstick, the colour of wine. It was bold. She felt bold.

Looking at the clock, her stomach grumbled. Bold and hungry, apparently. It was 9PM—dinner was at 10. It had been a month, and she still hadn’t gotten used to the late dinners. It was about 3PM back home.

“The guys are…” Belly bit her lip with a begrudging respect. “Hot. And shameless flirts.”

“Ooh, do tell, Belly.” Taylor had just been getting off work. They tried to video call often, but sometimes it was hard with the time difference.

“I don’t know.” Belly twirled her hand around her finger, taking her phone and falling onto her bed. “When I was at the beach, there was this little café sort of thing, and I went and ordered a burger. The waiter was so cute and said ‘Just a burger? You don’t want a drink or my number, too?’. I’m literally embarrassed how hard I blushed. I had another one stop me on the street to tell me I’m beautiful and he wanted to kiss me.”

“Belly,” Taylor put a hand over her heart. “I give you my full blessing to go absolutely wild over there.”

Belly laughed.

“I’m serious. You’ve been good, all year—your whole life even. It’s your turn to be a little bad, go a little crazy.”

When they hung up, Belly thought about what Taylor said.

Just over a year ago, Belly had been engaged to be married. Now, she was single and in a completely different country. She had made a resolution to stay away from dating for the most part—with the exception of a drunken kiss here and there—and just focus on herself and her studies. That landed her here, in the bed of her scholarship paid for accommodation in Madrid. Belly had been good. Taking a ride on the wild side wouldn’t hurt anyone.

She couldn’t imagine being married now. She was only beginning.

“Beautiful, no?” Asked the rich, accented voice she’d been listening to for the last hour.

The tour guide sidled up to her as she stared at a painting. They’d just finished up walking through the museum. Everyone else had started to disperse but Belly had been lingering, getting her fill.

He’d introduced himself as Benito at the start of the tour. He seemed like he was her age, maybe a little older. His playful eyes that were framed with wired glasses were looking at her curiously. The glasses reminded her of the ones Conrad used to where when he was younger.

“Yeah, it is.” Belly agreed, but really, she wasn’t sure it was.

Belly had rarely thought of contemporary art as beautiful. Fascinating? Definitely. Technical? No doubt. Except there was this lacking element of silent comfort that would make Belly define the art as beautiful.

“Ah, you don’t think so.”

She whipped her head in his direction to find him smile knowingly. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Benito gestured to the space between her eyebrows. “You have a little crease. You must be thinking too hard about it. Beauty is easy, like love, you just know.”

That had not been Belly’s experience with love. It had not been easy nor had she ever ‘just known’. It had left with as more forehead creases than she could count, leaving her stomach in knots. She didn't argue with him about it though.

“I think I make a good point, Benito. Beauty isn't something you need to force. It is or it isn't.”

“Ah so you remembered my name?” This seemed to spur him on. “What can I call you then?”

They stared into each other’s eyes and something exciting sparked between them.

“Isabel.” It came out a little breathy.

“Hmm.. No.” He shook his head and tapped at his lip in thought. “You don’t seem like an Isabel.”

His eyes took her in, and she was curious to see what he’d dub her— not Belly like she’d been called her whole life, but not Isabel like she’d reclaimed in university. What did this good-looking man see when he looked at her?

She bristled at the heat of his assessing gaze.

“Isa.”

Isa. She let the name wash over her like honey. It was the name of someone wild, seductive. Someone she wasn’t and had never been, but the daring look in his eyes offered something. Outstretched, Belly saw the opportunity to be that person, she only had to take it. She did.

“Okay, Benito, call me whatever you want.” She looked him through her eyelashes, a thrill running through her. She could do this, be this.

A charming smile spread across his face. “Oh, Isa, now the only remaining question is when can I call you then?”

Belly smiled back.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

It wasn’t that Conrad had waited for Belly to leave the country before he came back to visit the east coast. He hadn’t. It had just turned out that way. He wondered if her wheels of her plane were lifting off the ground just as the wheels of his were touching down.

He’d found out she was going through Laurel, his biggest source of Belly information. After that dressing down from Agnes, Conrad figured he should make a better effort of staying away from Belly’s social media and had to content himself with Laurel’s updates. Most of the time.

She had called him, annoyed in that Laurel way, about how the university had left so little time between telling Belly she had a scholarship to go and actually going. Belly had found out at the start of summer, and she was gone not two months later.

A scholarship. Conrad had smiled to himself. She must have really been killing it.

Conrad had already booked his flight to come spend the last month of summer in Boston before that call. He’d spent too long away from home, and it had made him feel restless. He had to come back eventually. He’d thought he might even work up the courage to see Belly again, but he guessed destiny had other plans for them. Always ships in the night.

He was happy for her though.

“I can’t wait to get out of here, you know?” She was slurping on some noodles.

“I thought you said noodles weren’t dinner food.” Conrad pointed a pen at her through his phone screen.

“And I stand by that,” Belly covered her mouth, not waiting to finish chewing before talking, but at least polite enough to cover it. “That is why this is a snack. Not dinner. Pre-dinner, if you will.”

Conrad shook his head, but the smile on his face betrayed the fact he thought she was annoyingly endearing. “Where’s here? Your house, high school, America?”

“I guess all of the above. For different reasons.” She pondered; her fork stopped midway to her mouth. She put it back down. “But when you came down last weekend… I don’t know. Just being reminded how wide and infinite this planet feels… It just made me think about how much there is to see and experience and how little of it I actually have.”

Conrad admired how animated she looked when she spoke about it, how passionate, if not still a little confused and figuring out what she actually means. He understood though. Conrad had felt the same. When his mum was better, he would go and explore as much as possible.

He put down his pen, taking the phone to give her his full attention.

“Where would you go?”

“Spain.” Belly nodded. If she hadn’t figured out anything else, she was certain of that. “I’d go to Spain.”

Unlocking the door to the Cousins house, that’s what made Conrad feel like he was home. He hadn’t been back since the wedding, but the house showed no markers from the disaster that was that day, that week— that summer even. Everything had been returned to its rightful place, back to where Susannah had decided it belonged.

He wanted to stay here, but his dad had made him promise to stay in Boston this time. Besides, the emptiness of the house echoed through him. This time there would be no Belly. Or Laurel. Or Steven or Jere. There would be no Susannah. Never again.

So, he stayed for one day. He surfed. He ate. Then he went back to Boston.

“Thanks for coming cover, Connie.” Laurel opened the door to let him in.

“No worries, what’s a five-hour drive to fix your computer anyways?” Conrad walked through with the bags of groceries he was carrying.

Laurel slapped his arm. “Hey! You know that’s not the only reason you’re here. You could have just as easily flown here you know.”

“I know.” He said walking into the kitchen and putting the bags on the counter. He’d gotten some fruit and vegetables to cook dinner with while he was here.

He turned back to her. They stared at each other.

Laurel was another person on the long list of people he hadn’t seen in a year. They still talked on the phone all the time, but it could never make up for the real thing.

She opened her arms up. “I missed you, Connie.”

“I missed you too, Laur.”

Hugging Laurel was not like hugging his mum— Susannah always had this softness about her hugs, like falling into a freshly made bed— but it was the closest he could get. The familiarity of Laurel almost made Conrad want to cry. He hadn’t realised how disconnected he’d felt being across the country. He should have though, since that was half the reason he’d moved all that way out there anyways.

Conrad cleared his throat of the emotions starting to well up there. “Okay, let’s look at this computer.”

“Okay, I think—” Conrad leaned over where Laurel was sat in front of the computer and pressed a button on the keyboard, and it came to life. “—that’ll do it.”

“Oh Connie, you’re such a lifesaver.” Laurel clasped her hands in front of her. “I need to print out some of these pages so I can do some hand edits to get to my editor. They’ve been on my ass about it.” Laurel’s phone started ringing. “Speak of the devil. Connie, you think you can print these for me? It’s in Belly’s room.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond before she took the phone call.

Conrad made sure the printer was connected and clicked print before he went in the direction of her room.

Opening the door, it was weird to think that the last time he’d been in here was almost four years ago. The printer whirred in the background as he took it in. The covers on the bed were different and the desk was neater, but it was mostly the same.

His eyes were drawn to the photos she had pinned up above her desk. There were more now than there had been last time, which only made sense considering the amount of time that had passed, but some of the ones he did remember were missing.

Conrad’s finger lingered over a spot he knew a photo of them from the deb ball had been. The photographer had taken it just as Conrad had dipped Belly, and she’d thought it was so romantic. Like something from a movie, she’d said. Belly had called immediately after she put it up. He hadn’t said anything, but he’d had his own copy too.  

Photos of her and Jere were missing too. Nothing from their two-year relationship, none of just the two of them. In fact, the only photos that either of the Fisher boys appeared in were group shots. Mostly ones from when they were little, all of which had Susannah in them. Belly probably didn’t have the heart to get rid of her too.

Conrad closed his eyes and tilted his head up, wiping his face. She’d erased them. Or at least the ‘them’ that had hurt her time and again. He tried to breathe through that cracking feeling in his chest. He had wanted to reach out. Had tried to do it on multiple occasions, but always held himself back, and here was why. She didn’t want anything to do with them.

He let loose a breath and opened his eyes. Staring back at him was a familiar face.

At the top of her bookshelf next to her bed, was a polar bear wearing shades and a scarf.

Conrad reached up and grabbed him with a reverent hand, sitting on the bed to examine it. Junior Mint still looked to be in good condition for his age, meaning he’d been well cared for. So, Conrad hadn’t been banished entirely.

Tingles circulated through his body. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe…

“Conrad?”

Laurel came into the room, and he froze, feeling like he’d been caught out. Her eyes fell to the bear in his hands and a small, understanding smile appeared on her face. She took a seat next to him. She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to speak. Conrad always appreciated that about Laurel.

He swallowed, turning the bear over in his hands. “I’ve been thinking about reaching out. I wasn’t sure if she’d want me to…”

“I don’t want to speak for Belly, especially about what she would and wouldn’t want. But if I learned anything from losing your mum..” Conrad turned to look at her then. Her eyes were slightly glassy, but she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at the photo of all of them at the summer house— her and Susannah leaning on each other and laughing. “You have to fight for the people that are important.”

Conrad nodded.

He thought she was done until she added, “Especially for the ones you love.”

Her gaze met his now. He saw knowing and understanding there. A little encouragement too. She didn’t want to speak for Belly, but Conrad could see that it would give Laurel some peace to see things resolved—between all of them. It would bring Conrad some peace too.

Conrad looked back at Junior Mint, who looked back at him.

Conrad couldn’t half ass it, but he’d have to go slow. Belly might have gone off with him after he told her he still loved her on the beach before the wedding if she’d had faith in him. When she’d known him, when they’d been together, he’d bottled himself up, never expressing what was really going on with him. He’d pull her close, only to push her away again. If this was going to work, he’d have to earn back her trust.

But he’d have to reach out first.

“Laurel, can I take him? I think… I think I want to send him to Belly. If that’s okay? She might miss him.”

"She might." She patted his back. “I’ll get you her address.”

Chapter Text

BELLY

Belly should have been thankful for the brick wall that was assisting to keep her upright, but she was barely aware of anything other than Benito’s roaming hands against her skin and the heat it left in their wake. The kiss was drunken— both in the sensation it created and in taste.

Benito had called. Whenever he wanted, in fact, usually with some offer or another— museum, park walks, dancing.

“It’s a crime to come to Spain and stay home, guapa. There’s more to Madrid than the walls of your bedroom.”

Even studying could be put on the back burner according to Benito.

When he called, sometimes Belly answered and sometimes she didn’t. Tonight, she had. He’d invited her out with some of his friends for dinner and drinks. That’s where they were supposed to be right now. Or at least, Benito was.

Belly had had her fill on laughs and sangria and was heading home, but the night was still young for them. Benito and his friends were all going out afterwards. He had walked her out to say goodbye. That was five minutes ago, maybe ten.

A lingering good night hug had turned into this passionate make out session in the dimly lit alley beside the restaurant.

“Isa.” Benito pulled away slightly, a hand against the wall behind her propping him up, the other on her waist.

Still in a daze, Belly wasn’t ready to form sentences. “Hm?”

“I should go back inside.”

Her body ached at the idea of separating, of going home. Alone. “Unless…”

He raised his eyebrow, eyes meeting hers. “Unless?

“Unless” She recalled his earlier words to get her to come out. “You want to see the appeal of my bedroom walls…”

Belly knew it was a big deal. A big offer. He probably didn’t realise how big.

Belly was still a virgin. She never slept with Conrad, or Jeremiah, or even in the year after the wedding was called off. Maybe it would be different if she was back home but there was something in the equation of everything that made Belly feel ready, right now, in this moment with this person.

It would probably be a difficult to explain to anyone else— how Belly could date Jeremiah for two years, nearly marry him, and still not be ready but want to have sex with Benito after a couple weeks of knowing him. It was probably the fact that he had never seen Belly as anyone else but Isa. When they met, Benito saw her as this adult woman who was serious, sexy, and seductive in a way that Fisher boys could never. The Fishers would never be able to separate her from Belly, the kid they grew up with, the tag-a-long, and she could never separate them from their childhood selves she used to chase after. Not that their history was a bad thing. However, Belly liked the idea of a clean slate, having a first that had nothing to do with the Fishers.

Benito searched her face, checking for signs of intoxication, “Are you sure?”

The alcohol she’d had tonight, nothing more than a warm buzz in her system now which would certainly dry up by the time they got back to hers. “Yes. Come home with me.”

So, he did. And he stayed the night.

The next day was a Monday.

Benito had left early in the morning since he had to work, but Belly didn’t have anything on until the afternoon. She stayed in those twisted sheets for a while after that, taking a leisurely approach to the morning. When she finally got up, she made a coffee and sat and drank it on the balcony in the sun.

She felt different, and yet not different at all.

Belly had told him beforehand— that she was a virgin—so Benito had taken his time with her. He was gentle, but still sensual. She blushed into coffee cup at the memory of the night.

It had been good. Belly had made the right choice. She had no regrets.

What she did have, however, was a text from Benito.

“Will I see you again?”

Belly sipped her coffee.

She had been about to leave to go to class when there was a knock at her door. Opening it, she found a postal worker holding a package about the same size as shoebox.  

 “Uh…” The worker looked at the name on the box and with a thick Spanish accent asked, “Belly Conklin?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Belly replied in Spanish, signing her name into the machine. “Thank you.”

The package itself didn’t give off too many clues about what it contained. If her mum had sent it, surely Laurel would have told her first, right? Same with Taylor. Belly doubted Steven had sent her anything.

Inside the package, the box was wrapped, but a note was attached.

Belly opened it and any thought in her brain stopped. The note was signed by Conrad.

Dear Belly,

Firstly—I don’t even know if I should be writing you, if this is allowed. I hope it’s allowed. One word from you and I’ll never write again, but I hope you don’t throw this away without even opening the box—because if you do, you’ll miss out on something very important. Okay, fine, something that was once very important. To you.

Already dying of curiosity, Belly put down the letter and teared into the wrapping paper. Inside the box was Junior Mint. How had Conrad gotten him? Belly picked him up with reverent hands.

She had only been away from home what— two months? Three? But it’s so easy to feel homesick. He smelled like home. The faintest sea scent from years at his true home at the beach house. Maybe that was the true homesickness. She hadn’t been back to the beach house in so long she ached. Belly clutched at Junior Mint.

Remembering the letter, she picked it up again, still with Junior Mint in her embrace and took a seat at the table.

I went over to your house to fix your mom’s computer. I went into your room to use the printer and I saw Junior Mint sitting on the bookshelf, looking incredibly pathetic. Remember him? Polar bear, wears glasses and a very stylish scarf? I won him for you at the ring toss? Do you remember how you used to go over to the ring toss and just stare at the polar bears because you wanted one so bad? I probably spent thirty or forty bucks trying to win you that damn bear.

Apparently, he misses you irrespective of that fact that you left him behind. He feels lost without you. I’m serious, that’s what he told me. Pathetic, right?

So here he is. Be nice to him, will you?

Conrad

 

Belly read the letter. Twice. Three times.

She stood up, but then sat down. Belly didn’t know what to do with herself.

Belly hadn’t heard from Conrad since he’d said goodbye to her on her wedding day. She had thought he might’ve reached out after the wedding was called off, but he hadn’t. The finality of that conversation, that had been separate from whatever happened between her and Jere after that. She’d thought about reach out a couple of times, but Belly had known that she needed time. She needed some distance from the Fishers, as much as she loved them.

She looked at the letter and clutched Junior Mint tighter. She hadn’t known he spent so much money trying to win her this bear. Belly had thought that the whole point of that day was for him to see that girl he had been crushing on.

He feels lost without you.

What did that mean? It was classic of Conrad to come back into her life in an adorable yet equally frustrating manner. It almost made Belly angry. It was like she was sixteen again, and he was showing up at the drive-in crashing her first date. She should tell him to fuck off, but she read the letter again. He was coming to her with his hands up in surrender. One word from her and he’d never write again. That’s what he said. All the power was in her hands. If she said stop, he would. Conrad had always respected her wishes. Even that night at the drive-in, she'd told them to go and he did. 

A younger Belly would have caved to this gesture, but this Belly knew it was not enough. If Conrad wanted back in her life, this wasn’t enough. He would have to earn it. He had been so consistently inconsistent— despite how supposedly noble his reasons might have been— she couldn’t just let him back in yet.

Belly went and put Junior Mint on her bed and got her stuff to go to class.

Belly wouldn’t respond. She wasn’t going to stop her whole life for Conrad another time, but she wouldn’t tell him not to contact her again either. She kept the door open. Just a fraction.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad didn’t get a letter back. No postcard, no email, not even a text message. Despite all reason, he found himself checking his mailbox in the hope of something, anything, the day after he’d sent the package. Of course, nothing was there. Belly wouldn’t have even received Junior Mint yet, but still, he checked.  

It became a habit. Conrad checked the mailbox every day, hoped that every buzz of his phone was something from her. As the days passed, Conrad became more anxious. The couriers sent him a notification that the package had been delivered, so maybe, just maybe…

Nothing.

A day ticked into a week into two. Belly hadn’t told him to go fuck himself, but she hadn’t given him any indication that she’d received his olive branch or that she wanted anything to do with him.

When Laurel called, Conrad almost always picked up. Not just because Laurel was his main source of information on Belly, but it always made Conrad feel closer to his mum. Susannah was no longer here to continue her friendship with Laurel, but Conrad could be here to accept it like an heirloom. He knew that whatever he and Laurel had could never compare to their friendship really, but he’d take what he could get.

Conrad was telling her about how his professors were warning them that they’re in their last year of pre-clinical study and that they’ll have to start thinking about where they’ll be doing their clinical clerkships for the two years after that. Meaning Conrad was only a year out from practicing medicine— with supervision of course, considering he hadn’t gotten his Doctor of Medicine yet.

“Do they assign your clerkship, or do you get to choose?” Always the planner, his Laura.

Conrad had actually looked into that. He’d stared at the page for half an hour before Agnes had slapped him over the head.

Conrad nodded slowly even though Laurel couldn’t see him over the phone. “They said we can do our own applications and put preferences for where we want to go, but ultimately, it’s up to the teaching hospital if they want to take us. Otherwise, we can let them assign us at random.”

It must have been the way his voice trailed off or maybe Laurel just knew that well because she could tell he had something else to add. “Well?” she prompted.

“There’s a teaching hospital in New York. I’m uh—” He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m thinking about coming home.”

New York wasn’t exactly home. Conrad knew that, but home was back on the east coast. It was the family he’d barely seen in a year. It was a brother that still hadn’t forgiven him for the mess he’d help to make. It was a friend who could always make him laugh with his antics. It was a girl… If they weren’t in New York, they weren’t far off. With the exception of one.

Breaking him out of his train of thought, Laurel said. “I think we’d all love to have you back, Connie.”

“How is… everyone?” Conrad tried not to sound overly interested, but there was one person in particular that he wanted to hear about.

Of course, Laurel wouldn’t start with that, especially when he was desperate to hear about her. “Steven and Shayla are finally moving in with each other. It’s practically a shoebox but it’s still better than the first place that John and I got when we first got together. I can’t believe it took this long though. I’m scared he’s going to send that poor girl running.”

Conrad never would have thought that Steven and Shayla would have made it this far since Steven had almost bungled it that first summer, but it was nearly 5 years later, and they were still going strong.

“You don’t have to tell me, Laurel. I’ve shared a bathroom with Steven every summer for years. I know exactly the damage he can do.” Conrad laughed.

Laurel sighed, and Conrad could imagine her rubbing her temples.

When she didn’t add anything else, Conrad bit the bullet. “How’s Belly?” He choked a little on her name.

“I worry about that girl, honestly. Her Spanish is getting better, but she still barely knows how to get around and she’s always getting lost. She told me the other day she went searching for a pack of Sour Patch kids and ended up halfway out of Madrid.”

Conrad smiled. He had seen the lengths that Belly would go to for something she wanted, especially something sweet. He could imagine the look of confusion as she approached strangers on the street trying to ask where to buy the sour gummies.

“Anyways, kid, I think I need to get going. I’ve got a couple things to organise before I go visit Belly in a couple weeks.  

His heart sank. That was all he’d get? He swallowed his disappointment. “Okay Laur, I’ll let you go.”

It sounded like Laurel was about to hang up, but then she said, “Oh wait, Connie. I nearly forget. Belly wanted me to thank you. For Junior Mint.”

Conrad’s heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t exactly a reply, but it wasn’t nothing either.

“Did she say anything else?”

“Just that she didn’t appreciate you calling him pathetic, but she did miss him. Anyways Connie, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Talk later.”

Conrad put his phone on the table. He bit at his thumb, but a smile cracked across his face. She’d gotten the letter. Not only had she gotten it, she’d read it. He’d made it clear that she only needed to say the word, and he’d never write again. She’d had the opportunity to do exactly that when she told Laurel to pass on the message. But she hadn’t.

It was small, but Conrad felt the flickers of hope sparking in his chest.

He didn’t write his next letter straight away. Conrad just wanted to be sure that Belly wasn’t writing back to him. He waited just over another week. Conrad didn’t blame her when nothing came. He didn’t think it would be that easy this time around, not like when they had been teenagers and Belly had been so quick to forgive him for his all faults. No, he’d spent years taking that forgiveness for granted.

Conrad sat at his desk with his textbooks spread out in front of him. He wasn’t looking at them. He wasn’t even looking in their direction and pretending he was studying. Instead, he was looking out the window, watching cars go passed.

He had to accept it. Conrad was going to get no more work today until he wrote her another letter.

His pen hovered over the paper. He wrote the first thing that came to mind.

Belly, in case I was too subtle Junior Mint wasn’t the only one who missed you. I miss you too. I would miss you less if you talked to me.  

He shook his head and scrunched the paper, throwing it in the direction of the waste basket.

Everything he wrote seemed to come out wrong, and the papers in the basket were piling up.

Conrad couldn’t come on too strong. He couldn’t push her. She’d just barely given him permission to write to her— if you could even call it that. Belly didn’t have to love him back, but he missed her. Her friendship, her personality, her smile. Her. Conrad would be content with just being her friend again, so maybe he should start there. Regardless, he was going to have to win her over.

As his pen hovered over the next victim. He had an idea. He grabbed his keys and went to the store.

When he came back, he had the biggest bag of Sour Patch Kids he could find. It said it was economy sized, but it looked industrial. Conrad had to admit. He was not above bribing Belly if he had to.

When he started writing again, he just let it flow. How would he talk to Belly if she were here.

Dear Belly,

This is weird, writing you like this. I think the last time I wrote someone an actual letter was a thank-you card to my grandma. For graduation money, I think. My mom was big on thank-you cards. Oh, by the way, you’re welcome for Junior Mint. Laur told me you said thanks. Geez, I was hoping for a thank-you card, but I guess we can’t all be as polite as me. Haha.

I should be working on biochem, but I’d rather be talking to you. Laurel says your Spanish is getting better. She told me you got lost the other day trying to hunt down a pack of Sour Patch Kids. Sour Patch Kids? Really? You’re too grown-up for Junior Mint but not for Sour Patch Kids, huh?

Here’s the biggest bag I could find. It’s economy sized. The next time I see you, I’m sure you’ll be toothless. But happy. I really do hope you’re happy.

Conrad 

Chapter Text

BELLY

Belly stood at gate craning her neck and bouncing on her feet. She had never been more eager to see her mum in her life, desperate to access some piece of home. Even when she’d left for uni, it felt like she saw Laurel all the time. They messaged all the time and called when they could, but it wasn’t the same. The time difference definitely hadn’t helped. Four months without her mother had felt like a lifetime.

When Belly spied that familiar face, her face broke out in a smile. She waved around the pick-up sign she’d made that said “Laurel Conklin (a.k.a Mum)”. It was a little dorky and completely unnecessary, but Belly had been so excited that she needed to channel that energy into something.

Belly squealed as Laurel embraced her in a hug. It was tight. Familiar. The hug was home. Belly could almost feel her eyes misting up at the thought of it. The only thing that kept her from crying was the fact she was smiling so hard it hurt.  

“My girl.” It came out like a sigh of relief. It felt like one too.

“I missed you too.”

Belly’s place was so small that the kitchen and the living room were basically the same thing.  She had really lucked out that her scholarship had afforded her her own place, but it definitely was not big enough to lay out a blow-up mattress for Laurel. Instead, she and her mum were going to share her double bed for a week and a half. Laurel had offered to get a hotel, but Belly didn’t want to miss out on one second with her.

Two days went by in a blur of coffee shops, museums, and art galleries, but, if she was honest with herself, Belly wanted to show off a little about how far her Spanish was actually coming along. She’d booked a restaurant for the third night.

“Belly, we’ll be late if you don’t hurry up.” Her mum called to her from the lounge room.

Belly was putting the final touches on her outfit. “Mum, I’m telling you, we won’t be late.” There was a knock at the door, and she walked towards it as she put in her earrings. “I’ll get it.”

Belly had been expecting one of her neighbours, Anna, to come by. She was an exchange student just like her in one of her classes, and she’d asked Belly if she could borrow some of her notes. So, that’s who she was expecting when she opened the door.

“Hola, guapa.”

Belly barely had time to comprehend Benito’s presence before he leaned in and gave her kiss— hot and impassioned, the kind that definitely could not described as chaste. It wasn’t uncommon for Benito to show up to her place unannounced, nor was this an uncommon greeting to receive from him. Usually, Belly also responded in kind; however, this time she was frozen in place because it was all happening in front of her mother.

Laurel cleared her throat and Benito pulled away from Belly lazily, unfazed. “Belly, would you like to introduce me to your…” Laurel gave him an assessing look. “Friend?”

Belly could feel her face turning a bright red. “Uh, Benito, this is my mother, Laurel. Mum, this is Benito.”

“Oh, nice to meet you.” Benito was unfazed. He greeted her with the double cheek as Laurel stood their rigidly, unused to the Spanish custom. “I see where Isa got her beauty.”

Laurel raised her eyebrow at Belly, who was watching the interaction like a train wreck. “Isa?”

Belly opened her mouth to reply, but Benito beat her to it. “Ah, yes, it is my name for Isabel. I think it suits her better, no? But what is it that you called Isa before?”

Okay, it was definitely time to put a stop to this. Belly and Isa were different people and now was NOT the time for those worlds to collide.

“Oh, don’t worry about that Benito. Me and my mum were just leaving to go to dinner so we can’t—” She gave a covert look towards her mother who was watching with rapt attention. “Uh, hangout tonight.”

“Okay, linda, but at least let me walk you out.”

“Yes, Belly.” Laurel finally piped up again. “Let the boy walk us out.”

How could she say no when they were both looking at her like that. She tried to smile but was sure it came off as a grimace. “Okay, let me just get my purse.”

“Oh, Isa.” Benito moved outside the door and picked up a package from just outside the door. “I saw your neighbour in the lobby. They gave me this for you, said it had accidentally ended up with their mail. They recognised your last name.”

Belly eyes widened. She spied that the name on the front was written in Conrad’s handwriting. She’d spent enough time looking at the other letter to feel like she could pick it out anywhere by now.

Her mother was still watching.

Belly snatched it from Benito’s hands and put it behind her back. “Thank you, Benito.”

She turned on her heel and rushed to her room to put away the parcel for later and to grab her purse. She was sure to be fast enough that Benito and her mother barely had the opportunity to talk without supervision.

“Okay, let’s go!”

They walked out together, Belly between them.

“Laurel, how are you liking our city?” Benito was the picture of laidback, walking leisurely, with his hands in his back pockets.

“I’ve only been here three days, but it’s very beautiful. I think my daughter has plenty more to show and tell me it seems.” Laurel threw a knowing look at Belly.

They exited the building, and the autumn night are had a slight chill to it. Benito walked towards his scooter that he’d parked out the front and put his helmet on.

“Well, Laurel, I met your daughter on one of my tours, so I would be happy to offer my services to you too.”

“Which services exactly…?” Laurel said under her breath which made that embarrassing flush return to Belly’s cheeks. At least she could pretend it was from the cold.

Belly’s voice probably came out too loud when she replied, “That’s okay, Benito. I’ve already got a few things planned out for her stay.”

They said their goodbyes, and Benito zoomed off. Belly and Laurel watched him go.

There was nothing but the sound of passing traffic between them for a moment until Laurel said, in all seriousness. “I hope you’ve never been on that thing.”

“No, never.” Yes. Many, many times.

Belly cringed and waited for the lecture to come, but it didn’t. Instead, Laurel laughed, and Belly didn’t realise how much she missed that sound.

She shook her head and linked her arm with Belly’s. “Oh, to be 20 again.”

Belly sighed with relief. It felt like she’d gotten away with something, even though she didn’t know exactly what that something was.

“I mean, when I was 20, I dated my fair share of people but if I had known that they made them like that in Spain, I might have come sooner.”

“Mum!” Belly shrieked, but she wanted to double over in laughter as well. They’d never talked like this before, but she liked it. She put her head on her mum’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t until her mother was silently snoring away, lulled to sleep after tapas and wine, that Belly decided to get out of bed. She grabbed the package from her desk and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

She turned on a lamp in the living room and sat on the couch. Ripping open the packaging, she found a huge pack of Sour Patch Kids and her mouth watered at the sight of them. It was one snack she’d been craving since she got here, and at this rate she wasn’t sure if Spain didn’t have them or if she just couldn’t find them.

Just like last time, there was a letter attached. This one was less infuriating than the other. It had been a month since the last one, and while she still felt some of that initial annoyance lingering whenever she thought about it or reread it. She had to admit it was also endearing.

This letter was teasing, but it was also sweet— just like he’d been before Susannah had died. It warmed her heart, reminded her of the Conrad she once knew.

I should be working on biochem, but I’d rather be talking to you.

Reading it felt like she was sixteen again, and they were talking over video call, having dinner together in between his study sessions.

Belly hadn’t known what to expect when she didn’t reply to the first letter. She’d told her mum to pass on her thanks, so he’d at least know that she didn’t just throw away Junior Mint when he arrived. In fact, he now sat on her desk— with the exception of when Benito came over and she hid him in her wardrobe because she didn’t feel like sexy, seductive Isa would have a plushie in her room. She clutched at him whenever she missed home. When she missed being Belly.

The next time I see you, I’m sure you’ll be toothless.

Belly hadn’t thought about the next time they’d see each other. Even before she had come to Spain, she hadn’t seen him for over a year. From what she heard from Jeremiah and Laurel, he hadn’t come back from California to the east coast for at least a year— the first he returned being around the time she came to Spain.

He and Jere still weren’t talking still. Jeremiah had said that Conrad had sent him a couple texts since the wedding, called a couple times, but he hadn’t been ready to reply or answer, despite Belly’s prompting. Even though Jere had come to the same conclusion as Belly— that she and him were always destined to be just friends— betrayal by brother was hard to recover from. She could understand that at least.

But the first time she’d see Conrad again? She couldn’t even imagine what that would look like. Belly was a different person now. She wasn’t just Belly. She wasn’t just Isabel. She was Isa too. How would this new person she was react to surely whatever new person he was too?

I really do hope you’re happy.

She was. Belly hoped he was happy too.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad tried to keep his spirits up even though he was becoming accustomed to the disappointment of an empty mailbox.

Agnes had given him a hard time whenever she came over because he would be checking it.  

“The key will snap from overuse the way you’re at it,” she’d said.

She was probably right. Conrad could definitely see the signs of wear and tear starting to appear on the key. It was embarrassing. He’d tried to keep his own expectations in check, but his hopes soared every time he opened that mailbox, only to crash and burn when he’d find it empty.   

He hadn’t told Agnes about the letters. He hadn’t told anyone. Conrad wasn’t sure what he’d say if he did, what they’d say if he did. Laurel knew about the first one at least, but he wasn’t sure if she’d known about the second one.

Conrad was determined to write until Belly wrote back whether that would be to actually reply or to tell him to never reach out again. Whatever trust he’d lost, he’d earn back. He could show her that he would be here for a long as she wanted him to be there.

Conrad had finished with his applications for his clerkship. His professors had said that if he wanted any chance of getting to work at the New York teaching hospital he’d have to put his application in early and his grades would have to be no joke. Conrad wasn’t too worried about that last part. He dedicated almost all his time to make sure that wouldn’t be a problem. He’d applied to a couple other teaching hospitals on the east coast, but Conrad needed it to be New York.

As he was pondering it so hard creases were forming on his face, a video call request popped up from Laurel.

“Hey Laur.” Conrad answered automatically before she even appeared on the screen. But it wasn’t her face that materialised.

“Hey, how come you never answer my calls this quick?”

Conrad raised an eyebrow. “Steven, name the last time you called me.”

Whatever retort Steven had planned froze on his tongue as he really, truly tried to think of the last time he’d called Conrad. “Wait, have I ever called you?”

Conrad laughed. This is part of the reason he wanted to come back.

“So, why are you calling? On your mum’s phone too.”

“I was just visiting, and she said she wanted to give you a call, and I said that I got first dibs to talk to you since you didn’t even visit me when you came back for the first time in ages.” Steven squinted his eyes in accusation.

Conrad put his hands up. “Sorry, sorry. That was my bad. However, if memory serves, I’m pretty sure you and Shayla had been off on some road trip when I was here anyways.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Steven rolled his eyes, but he was grinning.

“Are you done yet, Steven?” Laurel’s face popped into screen as she snatched her phone from her son’s hands.

“Hey!” Steven grumbled in the background.

“Connie.” Laurel tucked some flyaway hairs behind her ears.

“Laurel. How was Spain?”

Conrad heard Steven laugh in the background, popping back up behind his mother. “You have to tell him about Benito.”

Laurel gave her son a firm look, but Steven barely noticed it

“Benito?” Conrad asked.

“Just some Spanish boy that Belly has met. I can tell you all about it later. Actually—”

“Oh, no, no,” Apparently Laurel’s explanation didn’t satisfy Steven as he snatched the phone right back from her. “Conrad, you would not believe it. Benito is, like, this guy that Belly is seeing or whatever, and she didn’t even mention it to mum until after he rocks up at their front door and made out with Belly right in front of her.”

Steven was laughing. Conrad could see why he’d think it’s funny. If anything like that had ever happened to Jere in front of Susannah, or even Adam, Conrad would have found it hilarious. But this didn’t happen to Jere. It happened to Belly.

Conrad smiled like he thought it was funny too, but his stomach tightened. Belly’s seeing someone? A Spanish someone no less.  

“What’s he like?” He found himself asking.

Laur had wrestled her phone back from Steven at that point.

“He’s… charming.” She was being careful with her words, Conrad could tell. She knew exactly how he felt about Belly. He must have deflated a little at her response because she added, “But he drives a scooter.”

Conrad did laugh then. He didn’t think the scooter thing was that funny, but it was so funny to think Laurel would add that to cheer him up.

“I’ll tell you all about my trip next month.”

“Next month?” Both Conrad and Steven asked at the same time.

“Yes.” She nodded.  “You’re coming for Thanksgiving. I’ve already invited Jere and your dad.”

“Laur, I don’t know…”

The last time Conrad and Jeremiah had been in the same place, Jere had decked him at their mother’s memorial garden. Conrad had reached out plenty but could barely get a response back. He wasn’t sure how they’d do in the same room.

Laurel shook her head, expecting his response.

“I’ve already bought your ticket. You’re coming.” The air of finality in her voice left no room for argument.

All Conrad could say was, “Yes, ma’am.”

He tried not to let Benito take up space in his mind, but every time Conrad’s mind wandered, there Benito was on his little scooter, zooming through.

Belly still hadn’t responded. Maybe this was why. She was in Spain, living her life—loving—without him. Maybe she was better off for it.

Conrad wondered if she loved him. He tried not to, tried to scratch, and claw, and scrub the question from his brain, but it remained. He wondered if her eyes sparkled when they looked at him, if she fell into him when she laughed, if she messaged him late at night with the weird thoughts that popped into her head. Did she sigh after she kissed him too? Conrad wondered if Benito knew what he had in Belly— if he recognised and appreciated her in that way that Conrad hadn’t the first time around.

It ate at him. The thought of it. The idea.

Of course, Conrad couldn’t blame Belly for enjoying her life. He’d meant what he’d said in that last letter, that he hoped she was happy, but Conrad hoped that her happiness included him. He didn’t care what level of inclusion she chose. Texts, emails, letters, phone calls, talking in person, Conrad would take anything. He truly considered that it would be the loss of his life to never hear her laugh again.

The mythos that Conrad had built up around Benito had almost made him reconsider writing again. Almost.

Steven had said that Belly hadn’t mentioned Benito to Laurel at all before he’d shown up at her door. So, maybe it wasn’t that serious. Laurel had been pretty tight-lipped about it to him, but Conrad liked to think that she’d mention something if seemed like Belly was really into this guy. Laurel would find a way to let Conrad down, although possible not in an easy way.

The other thing was that if it was serious, Belly would have asked him to stop sending letters, right?

Conrad ran his hands through his hair, almost wanting to pull it out.

This was torture. He had basically nothing to go on. If only Belly could tell him what she wanted from him, how he could fix things between them. He considered this might be karma— the constant turmoil of emotions. He’d no doubt done worse to her in the past.

Conrad laid back on his sofa and stared at the ceiling.

He breathed. In. Out. In. Out.

This is the choice he’d made. Conrad had decided to reach out. He’d decided that he would send letters until she replied or told him to stop, whichever happened first. If that’s what he’d chosen, he couldn’t keep doing this back and forth each time he doesn’t get what he wants. He had to stay the course. That was the point, wasn’t it? To show Belly he wasn’t going to run or disappear this time.

When Conrad sat up, he felt more resolved than ever. He grabbed a pen and wrote what was on his mind: Benito.

Chapter Text

BELLY

“Please don’t tell me that Conrad’s letters had anything to do with you and Benito breaking up.”  Taylor basically whined on the other end of the phone.

Telling Taylor about the letters had been an accident. Belly had regretted it almost instantly, and she couldn’t exactly remember how it’d slipped out. One minute it was a quiet, looming secret, and now the only thing looming was Taylor. It had felt like a record scratch between them, both of them freezing the conversation and rewinding it in their heads and neither of them able to believe what had come out of Belly’s mouth.

Belly had seen the argument approaching as Taylor opened her mouth—the knot between her eyebrows meant something mean was brewing—but Belly held up her hand. “Tay, don’t. Whatever you have to say about it, I’ve already thought it. I promise you, I have it covered.”

There must have been something convincing in her voice because they held each other’s gaze for a moment, but Taylor’s mouth remained shut. Belly had marked it in her calendar. The day Taylor was silent.

Since then, Taylor’s protests had been much like this. They were talking about it, but they weren’t

“It didn’t.” Belly sighed.

“It better not have. Anyways, Bells, you’ll tell me all about it later? I got to get to work.”

Belly nodded.

Scooping Conrad’s latest letter off her desk, she sat back in her bed and read it again.  

Dear Belly,

So far I’ve written you two letters and you’ve written me—well, none. . . . Which is fine. Go ahead and feel free not to write me back. Seriously, don’t feel obligated or anything. Even though I’ve sent you two handwritten letters and two gifts. . . . But seriously, don’t write back. I’m serious. It’s better this way. I like hearing my news secondhand, from Laur.

Speaking of news, she told me you met some Spanish guy named Benito, and he rides around on a scooter. Really, Belly? A guy named Benito with a scooter? He probably wears leather pants and has a long stringy ponytail. I don’t even want to know. Don’t tell me. He probably looks like a model and weighs 100 pounds and writes you poetry in Spanish. I don’t know what you see in a guy like that, but I don’t know what you ever saw in me either, so I guess there’s no accounting for taste, right?

Don’t forget—don’t write back.

Conrad

The letter really had nothing to do with why her and Benito had stopped seeing each other, in fact it had come a few days afterwards. It was almost funny to her—the way that Conrad was mocking something so soon after it’d ended without even knowing. Except Belly found it funny in a good way, not in funny in a ‘the world is so cruel and the timing of this is terrible’ way. Although it kind of was.

Sitting out at a café with hot chocolate almost the consistency of soup, which she was now finding was her preference and she would definitely be incorporating it in her new holiday rituals, Belly thought of Benito.

The breakup (if you could call it that) was… unexpected. It had happened so quickly. After months of whirlwind romance, it was only reasonable that the ending would cause as much whiplash. Benito and Belly had only been out together two nights before when he rocked up to hers like a hurricane.

He’d knocked repeatedly at her door early one morning. She’d barely wiped the sleep out of her eye before he’d said, “Isa, we cannot see each other anymore.”

With a yawn, Belly replied, “Benito, you came to my house.”

Taking a better look at him, it was interesting to see the generally calm and suave Benito look… determined. There was just something different about him that Belly couldn’t quite point out, but it was definitely like someone had lit a fire under his ass.

Belly opened the door further and, with a little nod of her head, invited him in.

Neither of them said much, not until she made them coffees and they took them to the balcony. In the morning sunlight, she felt much more prepared for this conversation.

“What’s going on, Benito?”

Belly thought she’d be upset when the time came to end things with him. She knew it’d only be a matter of time, so there was always that safety net lingering in the back of her mind, except, more than anything maybe, she was just curious.

“Isa, our time together has been wonderful, no?”

Their time in bed flashed in her mind, and she hid her smile between a sip of coffee. “Of course.”

“And it has been so wonderful showing you Spain and getting to experience it through the eyes of a foreigner and getting to know you but…” He drifted off, looking down at the plaza below, already busy with children and café-goers alike.

“Something’s happened.” Belly put down her cup, to give him her full attention.

He dragged his eyes back to hers but dropped his gaze quickly. “I didn’t think I would get another chance with her. I thought I had ruined it, but I saw her yesterday, and, Isa, she as just as bright as the sun she’s named after.”

Sol, she assumed. It was quite a popular name here.

When she didn’t say anything, looking back to the plaza, he continued. Belly didn’t know if it was for her or for him. “She was my neighbour back when I lived in Oviedo as a child. Oh Isa, I had loved her always, but we were young, and I made so many mistakes. The kinds you think you can never come back from.”

Belly definitely knew that kind of mistake. At this point, it almost seemed like her specialty. A few flashed in her mind. A summer house. A funeral. A wedding.

“But yesterday? Yesterday, I saw her, and she was so beautiful. I would have done anything to talk to her, to be with her again, but I’d promised myself I would walk away because of everything I had done, but then she saw me…” A smile broke out on Benito’s face, and it was radiant, absolutely love-filled. For a moment, Belly’s heart ached, not for her and Benito, but for the fact it had been so long since she’d been the wearer of a smile like that, or a recipient. “She approached me. She was happy to see me, Isa, and I could not help but confess my love to her again. Sol felt the same way. She’d kissed me and said she hadn’t stopped thinking about me after all this time.”

Benito’s eyes finally met Belly’s again. He looked almost guilty. She placed her hand on his.

“Benito, I’m not angry with you.”

That clearly shocked him, “You’re not?”

She shook her head and felt a warmth in her chest. “It’s like what you said Benito, love is easy, you just know.”

They had had fun together. They had been wild and passionate. They had been cheeky and flirtatious. What they hadn’t been, however, was in love. Belly would never stand in between something like that. She’d matured a lot since she’d been in Spain, but she would always be a romantic at heart.

He had left, and it felt odd to part with someone who had become a part of her life here.

Then, a couple of days later, Conrad’s letter showed up.

Conflicting feelings washed over her any time she thought about the letters. Begrudgingly, she loved them. She could admit that some small part of it had to do with enjoying Conrad suffer and flounder a bit, putting bits of himself out there like he’d never done with her before and her not crawling back instantly like she would've when she was 16. Except most of it was actually getting to see those sides again, or maybe for the first time ever. Conrad had never particularly been expressive about his feelings, but less so after Beck died and then they'd had all those fights and they'd drifted apart from another. 

For a while, Belly had almost forgotten what it was like to have Conrad around, forgotten how his voice echoed around in her little head. It had happened slowly after the wedding, but now it was different after he'd reached out. There would be times where Belly would wake up at night and feel like she’d forgotten parts of him, like the nightmares she’d have about Beck occasionally. She’d reread the letter and it was like he was talking to her again. She could imagine how the words would come from his mouth, what he might follow it up with, maybe even how she’d retort. Belly couldn’t think of anything scarier than forgetting the people you once loved. Other than maybe losing them entirely, but it felt like she’d done that more times now than she’d care to admit.

The other side of it though was the stirring of all those negative emotions. The confusion he’d instilled in her. The rejections that scarred. It’s why she still couldn’t find it in herself to write back. Sometimes, she’d find her pen lingering over a piece of paper, but nothing. She’d see a postcard he’d like, and she’d stare at it until the shopkeepers shooed her out for loitering.  

Belly would think about how Benito said he’d do anything for another chance with Sol.

Then Belly would think of Conrad.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad felt silly standing in front of Conklin’s front door with a sweet potato bake he’d made, scared to knock on the door. He’d made the dish at his dad’s place, not wanting to show up empty handed since he was coming alone. Adam wasn’t arriving until a little later and he had no idea when Jere was supposed to get there-if he was supposed to get there. He’d tried to find out from everyone—anyone—if Jere would be going but no one seemed to know for sure. Apparently, he’d get a bit evasive whenever it was brought up.

Conrad would take evasive from Jere if it meant they were talking.

Conrad had texted, seeing if maybe holiday spirit would work in his favour.  

Laurel’s twisting my arm and forcing me to go to their Thanksgiving dinner. You know what she’s like, there’s no saying no. Hope I see you there.

The message went without a reply.

Conrad had meant it. He desperately wanted to see his brother. It had been so long. Steven was like a brother to him, but it wasn’t not the same, and Conrad felt like a piece of himself had been missing in Jere’s absence.

None of this, however, deterred the feeling of dread Conrad felt staring at this door. He was at the family house of the girl he was in love with who is currently ignoring the heartfelt letters he’s sending her, possibly about to see his estranged brother who’s wedding he broke up with said girl—the same brother who had barely spoken two words to him in 18 months.

Maybe it was too much. Maybe it was still too soon. Hadn’t Conrad done enough to burn everything to the ground?

Conrad was about to turn around and leave, even though he had nowhere else to go, when the front door opened.

Jere.

The two boys—now truly men in their time apart—just stared at each other, so frozen in place it was like they were part of the landscape. Neither of them had to break the silence because, in typical fashion, Steven did. Noticing Conrad from over Steven’s shoulder, he called out the name of his long-time friend and moved passed Jere to greet him with a handshake and a pat on the back.

“Mum, Conrad’s here!” Steven shouted even though Laurel had already noticed, looking frazzled from committing to cooking her first real Thanksgiving meal.

Conrad placed his bake on the table and was quick to give Laurel a hug, lifting her slightly off the ground. Returning her to the ground, he smiled. “Happy Thanksgiving, Laurel.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Conrad.” She gave a little tap to his cheek. Looking away from him and taking in the three of them in front of her, she said, “I’m so glad to have all my boys in one place again.”

Conrad turned to face the other guys as well, and everyone was again aware of the time and distance between Conrad and Jeremiah. Neither of them had acknowledged each other yet. Along with the rest of the room, Conrad waited with bated breath.

It had to be Jere to start, to make it okay. Normally, Conrad would reach out the first olive branch, although, he technically already tried. Since the wedding, Jere had ignored all the attempts Conrad had made to reach out and smooth it over, choosing to ignore those branches until there was basically a whole tree in the trash.

Jeremiah had every reason to hate Conrad, for however long he wanted or needed to. Conrad knew that, had come to accept it, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. An icy sensation to rival the cold outside was starting to form in Conrad’s chest.

No, this time it had to be Jere to set the tone.

Jeremiah seemed to realise this too.

He gave Conrad a quick, if not slightly awkward nod. “Hey.”

It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t the cold shoulder he’d been enduring for close to two years, so that sensation in his chest thawed slightly.

Conrad returned the nod, “Hey.”

Everyone started breathing again and movement returned to the room, Laurel rushing back to the kitchen remembering potatoes she’d left unattended and Steven ushering them into another room.

Jeremiah and Conrad met eyes briefly. There was still an awkwardness there, fences were far from mended, but it was a start.

Steven picked up the remote and switched the tv onto the game, and they sat in silence, watching. Well, as silent as sitting with Steven can get. His commentary rarely stopped, but Conrad and Jere only chimed in occasionally. The minimal crossover between the two of them was related to players and stats, like they were strangers in sports bar.

Conrad had a sneaking suspicion that Steven was focused on keeping the tension out of the room. If he felt it looming, Steven would be quick to point something on screen or go into an extensive background description of a player.

Conrad was grateful to him for it. He might have looked relaxed, sitting there on Laurel’s blue couch, but every one of his nerves were on edge. Conrad just felt like the other shoe was waiting to drop, that at any moment Jere was going to get up from the couch and accuse him of ruining his life again. The guilt had his gut in a tight grip.

At one point, during half time, Laurel called Steven into the kitchen for some help. Conrad saw him hesitate at the idea of leaving the two of them alone, but Laurel called again.

“God, yes, coming.” He mumbled under his breath, smart enough not to let Laurel hear him talk back to her like that.

Steven’s absence from the room was felt immediately. The sounds of the commercials on the TV, of Laurel and Steven in the kitchen, of the music Laurel was playing, it was all background noise, and the fact that neither of them was speaking was louder than ever.

Conrad reached for his beer from the table and took a swig.

He was playing with it in his hands, when Jere spoke, not much louder than a whisper, “Have you heard from Belly?”

Conrad’s head snapped in Jere’s direction, shocked he’d said something to him at all, but more so that he’d mentioned her. But Jere wasn’t looking at him, he was still staring at the TV, unfazed and as if he hadn’t spoken at all.

Conrad had almost convinced himself he hadn’t when Jere looked at him questioningly. There was no malice there. It was a simple question.

“No.” It was a simple answer.

Conrad looked away first. Sparing a thought for the letters he’d sent that had gone unanswered, his chest constricted.

She was everywhere here, even with though she seemed world’s away right now. It only made sense, of course, she’d lived here most of her life. Conrad could see her in the details. The photos that were displayed, some she’d chosen, others in frames she’d made when she was younger. There were marks on the wall where they’d never been able to full erase drawings she’d done on the walls.

Conrad shook his head to bring himself back to reality, the here and now.

Jere was still looking at him. Assessing and unreadable. He’d never described Jeremiah like that before. Of the two of them, Jere had always been the one to wear every emotion on his sleeve. Good or bad. The only one that maybe had him beat was Belly.

He had changed since the wedding. They all had.

Remembering himself, he asked, “What about you?”

“Yeah.” Jere did look away then. “Yeah, I have. We mostly text or talk online, but I saw her once before she left.”

An icy snake of envy curled up in Conrad’s gut. He took a sip of his drink to try to drown it.

When he said nothing—too afraid of what might come out—Jere continued, “She came with me to mum’s grave. I’d missed her… Missed them both.”

Why did Conrad feel like he was on the verge of tears? He knew what it was like to miss them both. Terribly. It was almost suffocating. He couldn’t reach out to his mum, neither could Jere. The loneliness, the aching for her would never go away, but Jere was able to do something Conrad hadn’t been able to do yet. Reach out to Belly and get a reply.

As if Jere felt the dark storm cloud brewing over Conrad’s head, he changed the subject. Slightly.

“She got a haircut, you know? Cut it short. She looks older… more mature…”

Before he could say more, Steven was making his way back into the room, and the conversation evaporated as if it hadn’t even happened.

Adam showed up around the same time the turkey came out of the microwave. When questioned why exactly the turkey was coming out of the microwave at all, Laurel said the only miracle she could pull off was cooking the side dishes and getting everyone here, she’d had to outsource the rest.

Dinner went smoothly. Conrad could see the relief in his dad’s face that both of his sons were in the same room together again in something much like peace. Adam had aged since Susannah had died. Conrad hadn’t thought much of the toll it’d take on Adam to see his family fall apart at the seams nor of the gratitude he might feel as it slowly wove back together.

They all talked and talked. When Jere spoke, Conrad would sit back quietly and listen, finally getting to hear more of what was happening with his brother in the long time they’d been apart. Jere had a girlfriend now, Harper. They’d been together six months and his brother seemed to light up when he spoke of her. His studies were going well too. He hadn’t completely given up the party scene, but he was sparing an extra thought for study now and then.

Steven was going just as well. He was missing Shayla though. They had decided that it was the last Thanksgiving they’d be spending apart, and next year they might have to start thinking of better ways to split the holidays.

Adam asked about Belly. It seemed like everyone else at the table was too afraid to bring her up and Adam always was just that little bit oblivious.

Laurel, the proud mother she was, couldn’t pass up the opportunity. She showed them photos that Belly had taken and sent her, but also photos of their time together too.

Jere had been right about one thing; Belly had cut her hair. Except she didn’t look older. Looking at her photo reminded Conrad of the sixteen-year-old girl who he used to laugh with on the phone, the one he’d spent that Valentine’s Day staring at the stars with—eyes bright with possibility.

Belly wasn’t seeing Benito anymore. That was another thing Conrad had learned. Laur didn’t go into too much detail about it. It was a passing comment she’d made when Jere asked if she had any pictures of him too. He apparently knew about Benito as well.

“No, no, that’s all done,” was all she said.

Conrad didn’t want to read much into it—just filed it away.

The conversation moved passed, and it was almost normal. They were all here, talking and getting along—for the most part—in a way they hadn’t since Susannah had died. Maybe even before then.  

The night ended with them all quiet and full.

The Fishers left all at the same time, bracing the cold together.

“Jere, you coming with us?” Adam asked.  

His brother shook his head, wrapping his scarf around his neck. “No, but I’ll see you soon. Both of you.”

An olive branch. Conrad grabbed it, nodding and hoping his eyes conveyed how much he’d like that, but keeping his mouth shut so Jere wouldn’t take it back.

Jere seemed to get the point, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

Then they went their separate ways.

Despite his full stomach, Conrad felt lighter in some ways.

He was grateful that seeing Jere after all this time hadn’t resulted in some big blowout like it had last time. It was peaceful even—if not still a bit awkward—but, for the first time in almost two years, Conrad felt like they might be able to work it out.  

One thing itched—gnawed—at him.

Jere had talked to Belly. Not only that, he’d seen her too. She’d gone with him to their mum’s grave.

The truth of the matter was that Conrad hadn’t been to Susannah’s grave since she was buried. He’d planned to, he’d been encouraged to, but it had just never happened.

There was one time when Conrad had set aside the whole day and that was his only goal: go there, see her. He’d hopped in car and put the key in the ignition and just… sat there. For hours. It had been years since Susannah had passed. Conrad felt like he’d grieved her in every other way. He’d gone to her funeral, her wake, her memorial in Cousins. He talked about her in his grief group. Going to the grave and seeing the headstone was a different thing though. He knew his mum was dead and gone. He knew that, but seeing it etched in stone above her final resting place was too much.

Conrad wished he could ask Belly to go with him like Jere had. He thought it’d be easier if it was with her.

He wondered what it had been like for them, for her. They were able to overcome something massive that happened between them for Susannah and be there for each other when they needed it. Would they ever be able to overcome what they’d been through? The thought of it made Conrad feel like he was alone at sea, waves crashing over him helplessly. They had all always been there for each other, the four kids. Of course, Conrad had Laur and Adam, but being disconnected from the others had left him unmoored.

Finishing his fourth letter to Belly recounting his Thanksgiving, Conrad’s pen hovered over paper, thinking about Jere and Belly. Jere was vulnerable to her and got a response. Maybe that’s what he needed to do. Except Conrad had felt like his letters were vulnerable. They felt vulnerable. Conrad scratched his head, but maybe he was confusing vulnerable and personal. The letters were personal because they were his handwritten thoughts for Belly. Maybe it wasn’t enough.

Hell, what’d he have to lose? The letters might be headed straight for the shredder anyways.

His heart was in his throat when he signed off.

Chapter Text

BELLY

Belly read Conrad’s next letter almost to the point of wear, unfolding and refolding. It wasn’t just the scene he painted of the Thanksgiving she’d missed that threw her for a loop—although that in itself brought on a bout of homesickness—but his final remarks too.

She tossed and turned in her bed, unable to catch a wink of sleep, and, despite having memorised its content, reached for his letter again.

Dear Belly,

You didn’t write back. I thought for sure you would, you used to be so bad at following directions, now look at you. . . . Kidding. Actually I’m not—remember that time you tried to make box potatoes au gratin and you forgot to put in the cheese?

Speaking of potatoes au gratin, your mom made some for Thanksgiving. Laurel invited us to dinner—my dad and Jere and me. I wasn’t sure if Jere would come, but he did. It was awkward as hell. But then Steven put on football and we all just sat and watched and it was better. During the half, Jere asked if I’d heard from you, and I said no. He said you’d been chatting online. He said you cut your hair shorter, that it makes you look older, more mature. Then Laur showed us pictures of when she came to visit you. I want to go there some day. I heard you aren’t hanging out with that guy Benito anymore. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. . . .

By the way, it looks good. Your hair. I don’t think it makes you look older, though. Younger, if anything.

I might as well be completely honest here, because who knows if you’re reading this . . . you might have thrown it out without opening it, which is your right. But I’ll go ahead and say it—it killed me a little that Jere’s seen you, talked to you.

But I don’t think he hates me anymore, which is the important thing.

Also—in case I haven’t made it clear . . . I think about you a lot. You’re pretty much all I think about. Just so we’re clear.

Conrad

“Just so we’re clear”? Belly hadn’t felt less clear in her life, not even on her wedding day when she was presented with that impossible choice between two boys she loved.

Belly was so happy that Jeremiah and Conrad were starting to mend fences. She’d brought it up to Jere in the couple times that they had seen each other and talked recently, but she never pushed when he gave her that look that said he was done talking about it. The problem was that Belly felt their mending fences just made this whole thing with Conrad more confusing, not that Conrad would know that, since she’d still been unable to write a return letter. But it took almost two years to get them to the point of being in a room together without ending in disaster and all it had taken was for her to leave the country. What would happen if she came back? Would she ruin things between them again? She couldn’t bare it. The first half of the letter and the chats she’d had with her mum and Stephen since had depicted this almost miraculous Thanksgiving. Everyone together and tolerating each other, enjoying each other’s company even. Everyone but her. Or Susannah, of course.

How did these letters change things?

You’re pretty much all I think about.

They definitely changed things. In what way, Belly wasn’t sure.

She stared at the line, convinced the words would move around the page and reveal Conrad’s true hidden meaning. In the time she’d known him, she felt she’d spent years reading between the lines, peeling back his words to find the true meaning and analyses that were only meant for those who cared enough to look. She’d spent so much time in the grey of Conrad’s words that something black and white like this was only more confusing.

When the words didn’t change, she set it down. Could it be that easy? That the words he’d said were just simply what he’d meant.

This letter was different from the others. Conrad had danced around the truth of his feelings, as Belly was so used to. Sure, there had been a little bit more transparency than ever before, but now it felt like she was seeing right through him. The compliments, the vulnerability. She didn’t know what to make of it.

She’d been biting her lip raw in thought. The worst thing for Belly was that she couldn’t figure out where she’d stood. Couldn’t decide how she felt about the letters, couldn’t decide how she felt about Conrad, couldn’t decide what she wanted to do.

Maybe she’d wait. Maybe it would be clearer when she was on home soil, when she could talk face to face with Taylor and Anika, maybe even Jere.

The plan was shaky at best. Belly had never been good with uncertainty, and, despite the growing urge to, Belly couldn’t find it in herself to respond.  

The closest she’d gotten so far was creating a Conrad notebook where she’d take notes on what she might tell him if she did respond. Mostly just stories from her travels, or sites and things she’d seen that she thought Conrad would be interested in. She caught herself filling up the pages so quickly that she was embarrassed to mention the purpose of the notebook to anyone else.

Belly didn’t forget the Isa that had been created since coming to Spain. She still drank and flirted and kissed, but her heart wasn’t in it anymore. It wasn’t that it wasn’t still fun to see and explore, but she’d had her fill with Benito and now there was just the slight tugging in the back of her mind that made her hold back. None of them felt right.

Sometimes she’d find herself wondering about Benito. The childhood love that had returned. She wondered if it worked out or if it had crashed and burned like it had originally. Could someone really find happiness, find their ultimate romance, with someone who’d tore them apart in the past?

The truth of the matter was that she wanted it to be possible, but the truth is only ever more confusing. How long could she delude herself about her feelings when notebooks dedicated to one boy were starting to pile up? But wading through the sea of mixed emotions Conrad brought up reminded Belly of the time she’d nearly drowned—overwhelming and suffocating. Belly pointedly chose not to think about the fact that Conrad had been the one to save her from a watery demise since that would be absolutely useless to the metaphor.  

After a night of too many drinks and too much dancing, Belly found herself sitting in the gutter with her newfound, Spanish friend—a girl named Marcella she’d met in class. Her mouth and brain greased up by the alcohol she’d consumed, the story came tumbling out of Belly’s mouth, all of it. Years of pining. Their relationship. The wedding. The letters. Her notebook. Everything.

Marcella just shook her head, her hair still sitting perfectly after hours in the club. “Isabella, I don’t know why you find this so difficult.”

Belly sat blinking, and when she said nothing, Marcella sighed and put out the cigarette she’d pulled out around the time Belly mentioned the funeral.

“It’s simple really. Focus on the now. He loves you, and clearly you love him. All you really need to figure out is how much you love him. Do you love him enough to let him back into your life? Maybe you love him a little and you’re only destined to be friends. Maybe you love him a lot and you give it another shot. Or, maybe you love him too much and you need to let him go.” She reached over and rubbed Belly’s back, and softly, she added, “But first, you’ll have to admit you love him.”

Belly inhaled.

I love Conrad Fisher.

Exhale.  

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Conrad had gone back to California briefly after Thanksgiving, barely settling in before he got the call. His breath left him when they said he’d been accepted to the New York hospital for his clerkship. Conrad almost couldn’t believe it—that he’d worked so hard for something and for it to actually go the way he’d planned for once. He’d be starting in January if he wanted it. And, by god, did he want it.

He'd come back to the summer house to figure it out. He could have stayed with his dad, but Jere was in and out there a lot recently, and even though they were just starting to get along again (even exchanging a couple of texts since Thanksgiving), Conrad didn’t want to step on any toes.

It was more than that, anyways. Conrad needed a clear head and no one place had provided him a clearer head than the summer house—despite what the track record of late might say. The quiet, the waves, the presence of his mum. He needed all of that now.

It was always strange, coming to the summerhouse during the winter. The wood creaked and groaned in ways it didn’t during summer. It’d have that locked-up, stale house smell that lingered until he got the fire going and injected a bit of life and warmth into the place. 

Even though Conrad had been to the house multiple times since Susannah’s death and since Belly and Jere’s almost wedding, the house still had a haunted feel to it. Not exactly in a bad way, but it was the only way he could describe the way everyone had left their imprint on the house.

It was Susannah’s and Belly’s imprints that Conrad was most in tune with, the ones he most searched for. There’d be moments where he swore he’d conjured them into existence: the sound of their laughter together or Belly’s dive into the pool or the smell of his mum’s perfume. He might need to reign in his imagination because sometimes it was like he could see them too.

Belly was everywhere. Every part of this house. Every part of his mind too.

Christmas was coming up soon, so even if he wanted to avoid the memory of his and Belly’s Christmas together here, he was in the worst place for it.

But Conrad didn’t want to avoid the memories, not even the bad ones.

Conrad had fucked up a lot in the past, ­more than he’d care to admit, but he was starting to come to terms with all the shit he’d done. He knew that he’d have to learn from his past if he ever wanted a better future. And where better to learn from than his mistakes with Belly?

Even though she was ignoring his letters, Conrad was feeling more at peace than he had in so long. Agnes claimed it was a type of “rejection therapy”, at this point. Conrad had rolled his eyes, but maybe it was true.

Conrad couldn’t help but think about what this move would mean for the both of them. The thought gnawed at him, even with his newfound sense of peace. While she was away in Spain and unresponsive to his letters, there was still this air of possibility. The letters hadn’t exactly gone how he’d hoped so far, but she hadn’t rejected him outright. Would it be different if she were back here, stateside?

Still, here in the summer house, hope remained. Hope remained because Belly remained. Because Susannah remained. So, it was here that he’d figure out how to make it work. With Belly and with his clerkship. No matter what it took.  

Conrad sat at the table, leaning over all different kinds of paperwork for the move. His dinner sat off to the side for him to pick at whenever he remembered it was there. He raked a hand through his hair. It’d be tough, but he could do it. He wanted it enough that he’d cut back on almost everything if he had to—and he might have to.

Conrad exhaled, releasing the pen from his hand and letting it fall onto the papers. He took a moment to look at it all. He’d highlighted and sticky noted and even sticky taped where he’d accidentally tore a document in two. It was chaos really.

Despite his half-eaten dinner, he had a sudden craving for cheeseburgers.

Instead, he grabbed a jacket and a scarf and headed to the beach.

The cold wind’s sting did a lot to wake him up and reminded him of that time he and Belly snuck out to Cousins in the middle of the night.

Conrad couldn’t get over how far-reaching Belly was in his mind. He was walking around this house, this beach, this town, and she was everywhere. Even when she was so far away.

Conrad stared out at the crashing waves, as if he might be able see her all away across the ocean.

Grounding himself in the sand, Conrad found his chest aching. God, it felt empty without Belly. It was something he’d been aware of for so long but had numbed himself to. Now, it felt like the sharpest, clearest sensation he’d ever felt. He tried to grasp at it.

It was times like this that made his letters feel like empty echoes of what he truly felt. Except he had no means of putting that to paper. Everything he wrote felt lacking. Too much. Too little. Too long. Too short.

His last letter was his most vulnerable, yet it was still not enough. Evidenced by the lack of response.

Conrad took off his shoes, rolled up his pants, and walked into the ocean — wanting to replace one icy sensation for another.  

Maybe things will be different, soon.

When Christmas came, and he was back at the Boston house, Conrad became a ghost of his own. He wandered around the house with no purpose or motivation.

Christmas felt wrong here or, at least, not as right as the memories of Christmas he had at the summerhouse. Conrad would find himself smiling out of nowhere, thinking of Belly brandishing a fire poker at him when he’d arrived or the chocolate smeared all over her face that night.

Haunting the halls of his own house, he had found himself in the attic going through old keepsakes to try and distract himself. Adam had gotten a tree, but they had all of the best ornaments hidden away in the attic. Lots of things had been hidden away after his mother had gotten sick again, so Conrad found himself wading through boxes and boxes looking for the decorations.

He could barely move around, so it should have been no surprise when he knocked over a box as soon as he found the one he was looking for.

“Shit.”

He bent down gathering the contents that had spilled on the floor, mostly old photos. Jere and Conrad on their first bikes. Susannah and the boys cooking in the kitchen, all covered in flour. Adam, Susannah, and the boys on a fishing trip. It was strange seeing a time when they were all happy and all together— before cancer was something on their radar.

Conrad was laughing before he even saw the next picture fully, the memory coming back to him as he picked it up. Their whole family had sat down for a Christmas portrait. He and Jere wore the most sour expressions, which would normally take focus away from the photo, if it weren’t for the fact they were all wearing these horrendous matching Christmas sweaters.

He knew exactly who might want to see something like this.

The Christmas decorations forgotten, Conrad went down and wrote his next letter.

Dear Belly,

It’s Christmas here. I guess it’s Christmas where you are too. I went to the summerhouse for a few days. I kept thinking I’d turn around and see you—stuffing your face with chocolate pretzels, or sliding around the downstairs living room in those god-awful mistletoe pyjama pants. I bet my mom bought them for you. She used to buy Jere and me matching Christmas sweaters. There’s one horrible family portrait of all of us in red button-downs and reindeer bowties. It’s basically a blight on humanity. I hid it in the attic one night and no one’s seen it since. If you’ve been a very good girl this year, maybe I’ll show you when you come back. My gift to you.  

You know what you could give me? A letter back. Hell, I’ll even take a postcard. Or an e-mail. Anything. I just want to hear from you. I want to know how you’re doing. By the time you get this, Christmas will have passed—I hope it was a nice one.

Merry Christmas, Belly. Remember last year? Me and you at the summerhouse? Best Christmas of my life.

At the last minute Conrad hesitated, but then he signed the letter.

Love,

Conrad

Chapter Text

BELLY

If Belly had doubted that Conrad loved her before, there was no doubt about it now. It was written there plain as day. Not only in his memory and wishes of her and Conrad’s Christmas together, but in his sign off as well.

Love, Conrad.

Love. Love. Love. Love, love, love. Lovelovelove.

The word rolled around in her head, in her whole body, at all hours of the day.

It was strange seeing it written down. In his handwriting.

Conrad had said that he loved her that night on the beach— the night before her near-wedding all that time ago.

“I still love you. I never stopped.” That’s what he’d said then.

Conrad had never said he loved her before then. He’d used the word ‘still’ like it was something that she’d known all that time. But it wasn’t.

In that moment, it was like he’d dumped her in this endless fog, and nothing could be clear again. Without her senses, Belly hadn’t known what to believe. His words, even her own feelings, were obscured from her.

Belly realised that she was stuck in that fog for a really long time. Over these last two years, slowly but surely — and without her even noticing — that fog had cleared and now Belly could see this word for what it was. The truth.

And it made her heart swell.

Belly had accepted that she loved Conrad, that part of her would always love Conrad. She’d been trying to figure out what that love meant to her. For her. For them, even. She had looked to the other letters for answers and had come up with nothing.

But this letter? It changed everything.

This time, when Belly reached for a pen, she didn’t reach for her Conrad notebook. She reached for a blank piece of paper instead.

However, Belly wasn’t the same person as she was at 13, or even the person she was at 16. Even if all of those versions of her had loved all those versions of him. Belly wasn’t going to just dive in and just give her heart away so freely. Or at least, not let him know straight away that it was his for the taking. She’d promised Taylor she knew what she was doing; she promised she wasn’t just going to lose her head this time.

 So, when she wrote back. It was brief.

Dear Conrad,

When I come home next spring, you’d better show me that family portrait. Don’t you dare try to get out of it. Oh, and I’ll be taking it with me, since it’s my gift and all.

And yes. I do remember. Of course I remember. It was my best Christmas, too.

Write back soon,

Belly

In some way, it felt liberating to write. There was a giddiness when she read his letters and it felt like she put all that giddiness right back into those few sentences. Sure, maybe she didn’t give that all away in what she’d written, but she still felt like it was there.

It felt like Belly was joking around with him again. Except she really would be claiming that family portrait the second she got her hands on it.

Belly found herself buzzing with nerves and anticipation and just plain joy as she continued with her daily life after she dropped it in the mail. She even found herself in a good mood in class.

Belly wondered if this is how Conrad had felt after any of his letters. Probably not. Belly couldn’t imagine the anxiety she’d feel if she’d been the one reaching out to him without a response. She probably couldn’t have even made it to the second letter if he hadn’t responded.

“What’s got you all goofy?” Taylor squinted at her through the phone suspiciously, but in a good-humoured tone, catching Belly smiling at nothing.

Before Belly could respond, Taylor put up a finger to silence her.

“Wait, don’t tell me.” She gave Belly an assessing look, tapping on lip in faux-serious thought. “It’s been a long time, but I’d recognise that ‘Conrad is so dreamy’ look anywhere.”

Belly bit back a smile. With a little eye roll, she said “Maybe.”

Taylor shook her head. “You know, Belly. Enough time has passed, that I don’t exactly hate the idea of Conrad anymore.” Belly just blinked in shocked silence. “Okay well, okay, I still don’t exactly love it just yet either. But what I do hate is feeling like I’m missing out on this with you.”

“Tay, you’re not missing out on anything.”

“No, no, I am. Like yeah, you’re over on this big adventure on your own in Spain but you tell me all about it so I feel like I’m experiencing it with you. But I’m starting to feel like I’m missing out on some bigger adventure by missing out on this. You and Conrad.” Taylor huffed, flicking the hair out her face. “All I’m saying, is that you seem happy. I don’t want to miss out on that anymore.”

That gave Belly to smile at. “Okay, Tay.

“So, what are you waiting for… Tell me everything.”

And Belly did.

Chapter Text

CONRAD

Three days.

It took three days of carrying around Belly’s letter before he could work up the courage to even open it.

Conrad’s heart had stopped in his chest when he opened his letterbox and found that it wasn’t empty. He’d frozen to the spot for what felt like hours but was surely only seconds or maybe minutes.

Conrad had stumbled into his place, not taking his eyes off the letter for fear it would vanish the moment he did. He placed the letter on his dining table with slow and shaky hands. Then he sat and stared. And stared. And stared.

It was definitely from her ­– the script of her handwriting, the stamp of the Madrid palace. The fact she’d signed her name on the back was also a dead giveaway. Except she’d signed Isabel instead of Belly. He wondered what that may mean for him– if anything.

There was no indication from the outside about its contents. There had been limitless possibilities before­– when she hadn’t responded. Now a definite answer sat right in front of him. Had she finally decided to tell him to fuck off? Would opening this letter break his heart or save it?

He reached out and traced his name in her handwriting and felt the tips of fingers warm at the touch. He snatched his hand back like he’d been burnt.

He couldn’t open it. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know what was inside and he didn’t want to know.

Yet, he corrected himself. He didn’t want to know yet.

So, Conrad carried the letter on him for three days, waiting for when he’d be ready. He’d reach for it at all times of the day. When he was shopping. When he was studying. When he was packing the boxes to get ready for his move back to the east coast. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. 

It was only when he’d said his goodbyes to his friends, all his belongs sat packed away in the back of a moving truck and he settled into the driver’s seat that he felt ready to open it. Regardless of how Belly responded, this was the end of one thing and the start of another.

Conrad swallowed, took one last look at the place he’d called home for the last couple years, and opened the letter.

Conrad had allocated a week for the drive. Driving across state had been something Conrad had wanted to when he was younger. Honestly, Conrad thought the desire might have died with his mother.

She had been the one to encourage it from the depths of him. Susannah had always talked of her travel from when she was younger. She’d gone to state after state and once she’d done that, she’d gone from country to country. Conrad remembered asking her when he was 10, why she didn’t travel anymore – why she only ever wanted to stay at the beach house.

“The world’s a beautiful place, Connie.” Susannah had stared out the window, a fond but distant smile on her face. When she looked back at him, her smile had returned to the present and she cupped his cheek with a warm hand. “But, there’s nothing more beautiful than home.”

Conrad felt that same longing in himself now. He took the time to see the sights, like he knew his mother would want to him. But his soul itched for home. Conrad felt like he was being pulled back to the east coast by some invisible string. In the past, it had only been the occasional tug that couldn’t even pull him out of California. Now, it was like he was being reeled in a top speed.

Conrad couldn’t even pretend it had nothing to do with one, less-than-ten-sentences letter.

Conrad had no idea the turmoil that would come with opening Belly’s letter. The waves of every type of emotion that one could feel. Excitement that she’d finally responded. Disappointment that it was so short. Gratitude that she’d responded at all. There was terror there too, about what this meant, about the possibilities it opened up. Every waking minute Conrad felt something new about it.

One feeling stood taller than the rest though. Happiness. Conrad was happy. And hopeful.

Yes, the letter was short, but that didn’t make it any less meaningful.

It wasn’t just him. She remembered too. It was her best Christmas too.

He silently filed away the feeling like he’d made a bargain with the devil in agreeing to give Belly that horrendous family portrait. He wondered if she intended that underlying insidiousness or if he was just reading into it.

It was so Belly. Well, maybe except in the sense that it was short and to the point. But just in a few short words, Conrad felt closer to her again.

Soon enough, Conrad reached New York, and he was truly ready for a fresh start.

Chapter Text

BELLY

Responding to Conrad’s letter had opened up some sort of floodway. Suddenly letters were being received as quickly as they were being sent and Belly could barely shake the cramp in her hands. 

The conversation came so easily. As if no time had passed. As if their history, for the first time in the longest time, wasn’t tightening around them like a noose. It also helped that they weren’t digging into it too much either. Belly wanted to focus on the here and now, at least until she was back home. And that was easy, considering she had so much to tell Conrad about Spain. In turn, Conrad shared stories from his clerkship and the whacky patients that he had to deal with. It was crazy to think that Conrad was gonna be some big hotshot doctor in California. 

Reading and writing the letters, it was like they came alive. Belly could hear the tone and cadence of his voice, could tell the moments where he’d likely pause to laugh at his own jokes. She could almost imagine that her and Conrad were just sitting across from each other in a bar, laughing and enjoying each other’s company and conversation. The idea made her tingle. It was something they’d never done together. Something so normal. 

Something to look forward to. Her mind filled in. 

Belly had thought so much about that conversation with Marcella. 

You have to admit you love him. 

She did admit it, accept it even. But she just hadn’t fully settled on what that meant to her, or for them. 

She had talked to Taylor about it. Extensively. 

”God, Belly, I’m having high school flashbacks. It’s making my head spin.” Taylor grabbed her head to stabilise it after Belly had talked herself in circles in the last hour, with Taylor as her witness. “What happened to just seeing what happens?”

”Ugh. I know, I know. It’s just-” Belly paused for the first time in an hour, trying to put together her thoughts, “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Who says you’ve got to do anything?” Taylor gave her a pointed look.

Belly chewed at her nail. Taylor was right, Belly didn’t have to do anything but she felt like she couldn’t settle if she didn’t. 

Taking advantage of the pause, Taylor clicked her tongue. “Okay Belly, the way I see it, is that you need to rebuild your foundation, you know? And that’s what you’re doing now. You have all this history - which is both good and bad - but if you really need a goal to focus on until you get home - start with friendship first. The rest will come naturally. If it’s meant to be,” Taylor feigned disinterest, tacking on, “or whatever.”

”Okay, okay,” Belly nodded. “Yeah. Rebuild the foundation. I can do that.”

Chapter Text

CONRAD

“Gooood morning, lover boy.” Agnes’ voice came out the other end of the phone line in a singsong tone.

When Conrad left California to move back to the east coast, Agnes and Betty ended up taking on his lease. While Agnes had been practically furious that he was abandoning them, the cheap — but tasteful — went along way in smoothing things over. 

“I’ve got another letter for you.” Conrad could hear a whooshing sound on the other end, as if Agnes was fanning herself with it. “Are you ever going to tell your girl that you’ve moved back to be with her?”

”Okay, first of all, she’s not my girl-“

”This is an awful amount of letters I’m forwarding from someone who’s not your girl.”

Conrad continued as if Agnes hadn’t said a thing. “And I didn’t move back to be with her.”

Agnes scoffed on the other end and Conrad could admit that he didn’t sound very convincing. “But seriously Con, is there a reason you haven’t told her yet?”

”I’m just settling in still. I’ll tell her soon, I promise.”

”Okay well as long as you’re fine to keep racking up these overnight delivery fees.”

When the call clicked off, Conrad just stared at the phone for a moment.

Sure it was true that he was still settling in at his place and he’d been busy onboarding at his clerkship, but there wasn’t really any reason not to tell Belly that he’d moved back. Except for the fact that he was so freaking nervous. 

Conrad enjoyed this new, continuous stream of communication between them. He felt so much lighter and happier than he’d felt in God knows how long. It was so precious to him. He worried that any amount of pressure, real or perceived, could stop it dead in its tracks. 

He wasn’t lying to Agnes when he said he didn’t move back for Belly. There were lots of reasons to come back. For his family. For his work. But of course, also for her. Obviously, she was a massive reason to come back. It was obvious to anyone who knew him. That’s why he hadn’t been able to tell her yet. Felt like a much bigger confession than signing ‘love’ at the end of his letters. 

Conrad sat in the doctor’s office with his mentor, Dr. Antonia Marshall.

He’d only been working with her for a couple weeks during his family medicine rotation, but watching her in action was really inspiring. Patient after patient, Dr. Marshall was clear, kind and clever. 

Their latest patient was an older blonde woman whose face was wrinkled with the signs of a life full of smiles. But she wasn’t smiling now. She sat in the patient chair, wringing her hands as she described her symptoms to Dr. Marshall. 

Only just having started his clerkship, Conrad wasn’t going to pretend he knew anything about real world medicine. But just from what he’d studied, he knew the patient’s symptoms weren’t pointing to anything good. 

Her voice started to crack and tears started to stream down her face when she described that she had already been to multiple doctors and they had just waved her off. 

Conrad felt a rush of anger at these other doctors, but Dr. Marshall put her hand on the patient’s own, voice gentle. “I know this is scary, Evelyn, but we will run the tests and then we’ll be able to figure out what’s next.”

Dr. Marshall ordered some blood tests and body scans and Conrad fetched the patient a tissue.

When the door closed behind her, Conrad let out a breath. “I don’t know how you do that, stay calm.”

“You’re young. Your brain? Ripe for molding.” She squished her hands together in the air as if she was moulding his brain like clay on a pottery wheel. “If you learn nothing else from me… learn to listen. Sometimes that’s what’s going to matter most, even more than what you might say or do.” 

When Conrad got home, he plunked himself on his couch, weighed down by the weight of the day. It was heavy, but a good heavy — feeling like he’d done some good. 

Learn to listen. 

As much as he agreed, Conrad was still having a hard time learning to speak. Let alone listen. 

Conrad got out his pen and let it hover over the paper. Listening could be more important than doing or saying, at least according to Dr. Marshall. So, he would just tell Belly. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t perfect, but it was time to tell her. At the very least it was also time to stop paying overnight fees and Agnes’ “inconvenience tax” (which was usually just enough to get a matcha latte once a week).

So he’d write. And when she wrote back, he’d listen.