Cruel Summer - Conrad Fisher

twenty

"Oh, sea creature," I call out, balancing two filled glasses in my hand. I saw Conrad walking back from the beach a little bit ago. As everyone began to leave, I fake a British accent that makes me giggle, liquid spilling out the top of my glass, "where are you?"

    "Uh, I'm in the shower," Conrad calls out. I can hear him chuckling.

     "Will I be scarred for life if I come closer?" I ask him, giggling at the thought alone. I wouldn't actually care, but I think Conrad would. I don't wait for him to answer before walking in front of the entryway, holding up the two glasses in my hands, "everybody left! So more margaritas for us."

    Conrad's shirtless, his swim trunks are hanging low on his hips. Water droplets fall from his collarbone down to his stomach, "Okay, well, I can't drink it in the shower. Can you just put it over there?" His wet hair hangs over his forehead, curling slightly. I take a sip of my drink as I watch him, "can I shower?"

    "I've always liked you with wet hair," I admit to him as he turns his back to me, washing off the sand that clung to his chest. Conrad looks over his shoulder at me, and I take a step closer, leaning against the wooden entryway to the shower, "it's so... romantic."

    Conrad laughs, and the sound alone makes me feel like I could float, my heart fluttering, "what's so romantic about wet hair?" He asks, turning around completely so the water hits his back, his head tilted, his long hair covering his eyes slightly.

    I place his Margarita down, beside the wall, before stepping further into the small outdoor shower, which we only used to clean sand off us from the beach. Conrad blocks the water, leaving me completely dry, "It just is," I shrug, leaning up on my tiptoes to brush his hair away from his eyes, which are wide and staring into my own. "You just don't get it."

    Conrad gulps, his Adam's apple bopping in his throat, "I-"He hesitates as I let my fingers trail down from his forehead, tracing his cheekbones and sharp jaw, "I, uh, think you've read one too many romance novels, Flo."

    I giggle at the use of my nickname, quirking my brow at him, "you haven't called me that since we kissed," I inform him. I can remember every detail of that night. Even now, when everything feels a bit fuzzy due to the addictive margaritas, that night is crystal clear.

    "W-what?" He stutters as I take a sip of my drink.

     "Florence sounds so formal," I continue, ignoring his confusion, "My mom only calls me by my full name whenever she's pissed at me... Which I guess, you're pissed at me 90% of the time, so that makes sense."

    "Florence, I-"

     I cut Conrad off, placing my finger on top of his lips. Before he can say anything else, I cup my fingers around his lips, squishing them into an O shape. The sight of him alone makes me giggle again, "Flo," I correct him, dragging the name out. Conrad smiles, amused.

    "Flo," He corrects himself, his words muffled due to my hands squishing his lips. Satisfied, I drop my hand from his face, taking another drink, "You know, I always wondered what kind of drunk you'd be, never pictured you giggly with zero filter."

    "I am not drunk," I scoff, offended by his words. Being drunk was supposed to feel weird, but I felt great, better than I ever have before.

    "Right," He nods, agreeing with me, though his tone is laced with something that sounds awfully like sarcasm, "how many of those have you had?"

    "Two... five..." I shrug. I'd lost count a while ago, "it's not important. All that matters is that I," I point to myself, "am not drunk."

    Conrad laughs, smiling so big my legs begin to feel wobbly. He's so pretty, like, it's unfair how pretty Conrad Fisher is. His eyes are this perfect shade of green that from afar doesn't look all that piercing, but up close, it's like a surprise. Only those that Conrad lets close enough get to see how pretty they are. And his smile, I can't decide whether I want to stare at it for the rest of my life or kiss his perfectly plump lips.

    "It's my turn to ask a question," I say. For whatever reason, Conrad nods, his smile growing nervous, "did you buy that infinity necklace for me?" His smile vanishes entirely, but mine only grows, "I knew it!" I giggle, my voice cracking like a teenage boy, "I knew I was right."

    Conrad tries to defend himself, "Can I please... can you give me some privacy, please." He sounds embarrassed, his voice cracking slightly.

    "I knew it," I continue teasing him, backing out of the shower. Conrad turns around as I walk away, continuing to mutter to myself, "I knew it!"

    My giddy giggles are cut short at the sound of something shattering in the backyard. Followed by frantic voices, all talking at once. I walk back to find Belly and Susannah both on the ground, with cake and shards of glass scattered everywhere, "What's going on?" I ask, my eyes wide.

    Mom looks over her shoulder at me, and the weight that'd been lifted all day falls back onto my shoulders, making me stumble, suddenly aware of my actions, "Florence, go inside." It's not a question; it's an order. Her tone was laced with anger and disappointment. Susannah limps into the house, and mom stands to follow her, "We will discuss this in a minute."

    While dad helps Belly into the house and up the stairs to her room, I sit at the kitchen table, pushing away the half-full margarita glass, no longer thirsty. It feels an eternity until mom comes back downstairs, a scowl on her face, her anger evident, "Mom, I-"

    "No," Mom raises her voice, and I flinch, not used to her using such a harsh tone, "I don't want to hear it, Florence. I can not believe you were so reckless and stupid enough to get drunk."

    "Steven's gotten drunk before," I tell her. When he got drunk, she gave him a, be smart speech, and that was it. Belly is drunk right now too, yet she's up in her room, leaving me alone to face mom's wrath, "And Belly's drunk right now. Why am I getting yelled at?"

    "Because you're the oldest," She yells, as if that justifies her actions, "you're supposed to look out for your siblings, be a good influence. Look at you," she gestures to me, "what happened to my mature girl, who always looked out for the younger ones? You've been such a bad sister to them lately. It's your responsibility to make sure they don't get in trouble, and look what happened, Belly got drunk, and she and Susannah could've gotten really hurt."

    "Enough!" I stand up, raising my voice. My anger towards my mom was rising, unable to be kept down any longer. The alcohol in my system gave me a boost of confidence. It's about time I stick up for myself, "it is not my responsibility to raise your kid's mom and contrary to what you and Belly think. I've given everything up for you, I've been the perfect kid and the perfect older sister my entire life, and I'm done."

    "You're done?" Mom asks, scoffing, "grow up, Florence."

     I walk over to mom, so we're face to face, "fuck you." I mutter, pushing past her and storming up the stairs, past Belly's, whose door is closed and into my own, where Isla is sitting up in my bed, squinting.

    "What's going on?" She asks, rubbing her eyes, "I heard yelling."

     My knees wobble as soon as I see Isla, my emotions taking over my body, pulling me to the ground. A choked-up sob escapes my lips as she leaps out of my bed and onto the floor with me, pulling me into her arms, "Hey, hey," She rubs my hair, soothing me, "what's wrong?"

    I struggle to get the words out between the sobs and tears streaming down my face, "I- I just want it all to stop," I cry, stuttering, "I keep disappointing everyone."

    Isla hugs me for a while as I cry, my body practically shaking with a mix of sadness and anger. I can't win. No matter what I do, I'm always disappointing someone. I'm too lame and boring to some but too wild and reckless for mom. I'm the worst sister in the world to Belly and standoffish to Conrad as a result, in hopes of pleasing her. No matter what I do, someone's disappointed in me.

    "Let's get you to bed," Isla helps me stand up, nodding for me to get in my bed. My room was dark, all my blinds shut, and the sheets were ruffled from Isla taking a nap earlier, "we'll figure this all out later, okay? I promise."

Ugh, this chapter! we got some adorable Conrad x Florence... and also so much sadness.

How are we all feeling about Flo standing up to her mom? next chapter we're gonna see more of her and Conrad, and a much needed heart to heart between the two of them!