Cruel Summer - Conrad Fisher

nineteen

"Florence?" I'm cut out of my thoughts at the sound of Isla's voice calling for me from down the hall. I'm thankful it's her and not someone else because I'm still sitting on the edge of Conrad's bed, clutching the necklace in my hands. That moment between us on the beach on my fifteenth birthday was one I held close to my heart, partially because of how heartbreaking it was to now. That night on the beach, we promised infinity, that we'd be best friends no matter what. I thought that promise was thrown out the window by now, but then there's this, a small token that would mean absolutely nothing to some but absolutely everything to me.

   I don't shove the gift back quick enough before Isla peers into the room, her brows furrowed together, "is this..." She drags off, entering the room. Her eyes are scanning the room, which is spotless. "Conrad's room?"

    "I was just putting something away."

     "And snooping apparently," She winks at me, sitting beside me, "is that for you?"

     I didn't hesitate to nod. There was no doubt this was for me, "we, uh, had this conversation a while ago about infinity. I didn't think he remembered."

    "Oh, Florence," Isla shakes her head, patting my shoulder with pity, "when are you going to understand that boy remembers every detail about you."

    "I shouldn't have snooped, though," I say, carefully placing the present back in the bag, folding the tissue paper to the way he'd had it, "I mean, he didn't give this to me for a reason. I had no right to look."

    Isla being Isla, just shrugs, as if I didn't totally invade Conrad's privacy, "it's fine," She rolls her eyes at my stressed demeanour, nudging my arm with her own, "Conrad doesn't have to know, and it's your birthday, you are allowed to do whatever you want."

    "I don't think that's true," I say, tilting my head to the side, "you don't get a free pass to do anything because of a birthday, Isla. I mean, it's just a day."

    "And this is why your mom keeps making you do chores," She gestures to me, shaking her head, "you need to let loose, Flo."

    I hum, moving to stand and straighten out Conrad's comforter, nudging Isla to stand. "Maybe you and Conrad are more alike than I thought. He said those exact words to me earlier."

    "So, he's as smart as he is handsome," She nods her head in approval, and I roll my eyes. "Look," she sighs, her expression serious, a rarity from Isla, who's always joking around, "just for today, forget about Belly not talking to you and what your mom thinks. For once in your life, put yourself first."

    It sounded easier than it actually was. My natural instinct is to make sure everyone else is happy first, "I don't even know how." I admit, shrugging.

    Isla links her arm through mine, "we'll figure it out together. Come on. I heard everyone else is down at the beach playing some drinking games. That seems like a good place to start, right?"

    Or a terrible one, I think, as Isla drags me out of Conrad's room.

☀️

    I giggled as Isla trails behind me, her eyelids fluttering tiredly as we walked, swaying. The sand felt unbalanced, my feet slipping as I walked. "Uh oh," I giggled, shaking my glass in my hands. The addictive red liquid had disappeared again, only a little bit at the bottom, swishing around, "I need more."

    "Joseph," Isla calls over her shoulder, slurring, "Jackson?" She calls again when Jeremiah doesn't turn to look at her. Her shoulders slump tiredly.

    "Jeremiah," I correct her, matter of factly. My voice sounds different, higher pitched and happy. The sound alone makes me giggle again. Everything feels lighter now, like the more margarita's I have, the more weight is lifted off my shoulder.