Cruel Summer - Conrad Fisher

three

"Finally," Isla greeted me, her smiling face popping up on my phone screen. I'd told her I'd call her as soon as I got the chance, promising to fill her in on everything. Her parents are extremely strict, meaning Isla's always lived vicariously through my summers at Cousins. She loved hearing about the boys and Belly and all the stuff we'd get into during the summer. And last summer, she loved theorizing why Conrad was suddenly so weird towards me, coming up with the most random ideas. "I've been waiting all day. How is everything? Is you know who still being a you know what?"

    I hum, plopping onto my bed, holding my arm up so Isla can see me. My bedding was freshly washed and smelt of the detergent that Susannah uses, the scent comforting and warm. My walls still had the same pictures from childhood hung up, and a large bookshelf filled to the brim with books, fake plants were all around, and a yellow throw sat at the end of my bed. I tell Isla everything about today... about Conrad's awkward greeting, to how he smiled at me in the pool for that split second. I even tell her about the debutante ball that Susannah brought up at dinner.

    "I can't wait till I'm there so I can analyze this boy for myself," she says after my rant. She was coming up for a week for my birthday in July, her first time at Cousins and the boy's first time meeting my infamous back-home best friend.

    "I still can't believe your parents are letting you come," I say, sitting up. Her parents took strictness to a whole new level. It took my mom weeks to convince them that she'd be safe here.

    "Laurel is very convincing," she says, nodding her head. Her red hair is piled into a messy bun on the top of her head, "and I mean, they had to let me go at some point. I'm going to university in the fall. I'm not their little baby anymore."

    I couldn't relate to Isla in that way. Being the oldest meant that mom stopped babying me a long time ago. From no age, I was the one expected to make sure Belly and Steven were okay. I had to be a good example for them and make sure that they weren't doing anything stupid. I was the good kid, the one that never stepped out of line or did something reckless. Belly was that way too, but both Susannah and mom babied her.

    "I wouldn't waste your time analyzing Conrad," I tell her, standing up from my bed. My suitcase still sat on my floor by the door, waiting to be unpacked, "I did all last summer, and by the end of it, I felt like I was going crazy."

    "Yeah, but you're not a soon-to-be phycology major," She reminds me, winking, "I guarantee by the end of my week there, I'll have a proper diagnosis for Conrad Fisher's moodiness."

    I laugh, shaking my head at her, "sure...." I drag out, moving over to sit at the bay window across from my bed. It was stacked with pillows and a quilt that Susannah had made for me when she was sick. She said it helped distract her from the chemo, and it was now my most prized possession and further proof that Susannah Fisher is magic, "or, we could spend the week pretending he doesn't exist, just like he-"I pause, eyes drifting down to the pool. It was dark outside but illuminated by the lights of the pool was Conrad, sitting on the edge with his legs in the water. He held something up to his lips, a puff of smoke blowing out of his mouth, "Oh my god."

    "What?" Isla's eyes were wide, "what is it?"

    "It's Conrad. He's uh...." I turn the camera around so she can see his figure, lifting the joint up to his lips, "he's smoking."

    "Is it bad that I think he looks really hot right now?" She asks me guiltily. She's always found Conrad attractive and used to tell me I should go for it before it's too late. I found her absurd. I mean, sure, Conrad is attractive. I'd have to be blind to think otherwise, but I've never thought of him like that.