Cruel Summer - Conrad Fisher

nine

   Jeremiah was quick to pick me up, driving us through a nearby drive-through on the way home. Over milkshakes and French fries, I told him every detail of my night, including the slap-inducing comment Tripp said to me, "Please, don't tell anyone about tonight." I say to Jeremiah as we approach the front door, my empty milkshake cup in hand. "I don't really feel like talking about it anymore."

"Of course," Jeremiah wraps his arm around my shoulder. When we were kids, Jeremiah felt like a little brother. He's always been much more affectionate than Steven. I used to throw my arm around his shoulder to comfort him all the time, but now that he's taller, he's doing it to me, "if he ever says something to you again, I'll kick his ass, okay?"

"I don't doubt it," I reach up on my tiptoes, messing with his hair, "Night, Jere."

"Goodnight, Flo." He shoots me one last wide grin before walking into the house and up the stairs that lead to our bedrooms. I head towards the kitchen to dispose of my cup. Despite it being late, I don't feel tired in the slightest, still running on the adrenaline that slapping Tripp in the face gave me.

If I really liked Tripp, I think I'd be in a worse mood than I am. I don't feel any sort of heartbreak over him, though. On the contrary, I almost felt relieved that I didn't get too attached before he showed his true colours, "How was the rest of your date?" Conrad asks me, walking in from the living room.

"Oh, we're talking now?" I ask Conrad, my tone dripping with sarcasm as I focus on anything but his gaze. I pick up the dirty dishes discarded in the sink and place them in the dishwasher.

"Okay, relax. We were just having a little fun."

"Yeah, it was hilarious," I nod, my tone dripping with sarcasm as I turn to look at him. He might have been right about Tripp being a jerk, but that doesn't give him the right to do what he did. It's like all the anger I've felt towards Conrad is bubbling over, unable to be pushed down again.

"Florence, come on," Conrad sighs, stepping further into the kitchen, "Trip Hale is an idiot. You seriously can't be that pissed about us crashing."

"I can handle myself, Conrad," I tell him, finally looking up at him. His eyes are still piercing under the dim kitchen light. I can't read his expression, no matter how hard I try, "you had no right showing up there tonight. You chose to cut me out last summer, so you don't get a say in who I go out with."

"Seriously?" Conrad scoffs as if I'm the one who's in the wrong here, "He's an asshole Florence. I was just trying to help."

"No, you weren't," I argue. I don't mean to yell, but my voice raises. I take in a breath, remembering that both of our moms are upstairs, most likely asleep, "you know exactly what you were doing, Conrad."

"What?" He takes a swig of the beer in his hands, his brows furrowed, "what was I doing?"

He was dragging me back to last summer when I was constantly sad over losing him. Even if Tripp was an asshole, Conrad knows I can handle myself. He wasn't coming to help ."Reminding me you exist." I finally say.

"I don't, I don't know what you're talking about," Conrad stutters, looking down at the beer in his hands. His expression proved to me he knew exactly what I was talking about, and I was right.

"You cared where I was," I say to him confidently, "who I was with."

"No, I didn't." He disagrees. He can't look me in the eyes, a clear sign that he's lying to me, "I don't care."

"Right," I scoff, rolling my eyes, "so you tracked my phone tonight and showed up to my date because you don't care. Admit it, Conrad, you wanted to see what Tripp and I were doing."

"I do not care," He enunciates his words like I'm some small child that can't understand him, taking another step closer.

"Stop lying," I raise my voice again, tired of his bullshit.

"Stop being such a brat."

"Oh, and you're such an adult?" I scoff as he takes another step closer. I'm nearly leaning against the kitchen table, my hands shaking due to anger, "if you were mature, you'd be able to admit why you showed up tonight."

He doesn't answer me, and I sigh, of course. I don't know why I hoped he'd answer. This is Conrad we're talking about, he's always been this way, the kind of guy who buries his emotions deep, but he was never like this with me. Conrad told me everything.

When his mom first got sick, I'd spend hours on the phone with him every night, listening to him as he told me how overwhelmed he felt and how scared he was of losing her.

And now he can't talk to me, "You know what," I hold my hands up, shaking my head, "I'm done. Just leave me alone for the rest of the summer, okay?" I turn to walk towards the stairs, my back facing Conrad.

I barely make it up the steps before he's grabbed my wrist, tugging me back towards him. Conrad steps close, so our chests are nearly touching, towering over me with his head ducked, looking into my eyes. Then, before I can question what he wants, he leans down, swiftly attaching his lips to mine.

I don't respond for a second, my hands stiff at my sides, but as soon as his familiar warm hand cups my cheek, I sink into the kiss, my hands grasping Conrad's jacket, tugging him closer. His lips taste like beer mixed with something sweet. When Conrad's hands slide down to my waist, lifting me so I'm sitting on the kitchen table, I waste no time sliding my hands up. I cup his cheek with my hand before brushing my fingers through his hair.

All of my pent-up anger toward Conrad fades as he holds my hips, my shirt's ridden up slightly, and his warm hands send a shot of electricity up my spine. The sensible part of my brain tells me to push him away. Conrad's been a jerk to me since last summer. I can't think straight when Conrad's lips are on mine, though, moving in sync with my own, like they were made to connect with mine. I kiss him until I need a breath, leaning my forehead against his as I catch my breath.

I finally open my eyes, taking a peek at him. Conrad's eyes are still shut, a small smile on his lips as he takes in steady breaths, "W-why did you do that?" I finally stutter. My voice is breathless and quiet.

Once again, my brain is yelling at me to be pissed off with him. He's been nothing but moody and weird towards me. Now suddenly, he kisses me, and I'm like putty in his hands?

"Flo," he opens his eyes. From up close, they're startlingly green, his lashes long and full. My nickname falling past his lips makes my heart soar with familiarity. I feel warm all over, my heart beating so rapidly in my chest that I wouldn't be shocked if Conrad could feel it. I've never felt like this before, "I-"

Something clattering on the ground cuts off our moment, my hands dropping from Conrad's face as I move back. Standing at the entryway to the kitchen, with her phone on the ground fallen from her hands, is Belly. Our eyes connect across the kitchen, and she averts her gaze, hurt contouring her normally smiley features.

This chapter's a short one, but it's definitely drama filled... it's only gonna get more dramatic from here...
We're gonna get some Belly x Florence in the next chapter...