Chapter three

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I went back to cousins, alone. My mom planned to stay in Boston for a few more days after the funeral and I am supposed to be heading back to California to prepare for finals week but I wasn't ready to go back there yet. I didn't have any friends over there. There were a few classmates that were super nice and have invited me to hang out but I have no one that I would consider a close friend. Nobody I was in a rush to come back to.

That familiar scent breezed through my car as I let my arm hang out of my window. It was my favorite scent ever. It welcomed me every summer.

The beach house came into view and my heart sank at the sight. My car was the only one here. I sat in my car for a moment longer, biting back the tears. Why did I think it was a good idea to come back by myself?

All at once the emotions came rushing in. I've been able to contain them during the funeral, I've always been able to control the waves but now they were in control of me. I let it all out as I sat there gasping for air, choking on my own tears. This wasn't just some nightmare. This was all real.

Susannah was gone. And I was alone. I grab my phone out of my tote bag and go to dial my mom. I hesitate before putting my phone on my lap. I stare at my reflection in the rearview mirror. A pair of ice blue eyes stare back at me, drowning in an ocean of tears. My nose was runny and my eyes were puffy. I wiped my cheeks, my fingers becoming wet with my own tears. God, I'm a mess. If I had called my mom I would have to hear her tell me how she was right. That I shouldn't have come here alone. How it was a bad idea. I don't feel like hearing that right now from her. All I wanted was comfort. I wanted to step out of this car to find Susannah waiting for me, waiting with outstretched arms to embrace her amor.

But she wasn't there. I took a deep breathe as I took in this horrible scene. The scene of me standing in front of an empty beach house.

I grabbed my bag from the back seat and made way inside. I looked up at the 'Beck House' sign above the door. Beck. That's what my mom and Laurel called her. We always wondered why they never called her Susannah. I remember Jere asking Laurel why they called his mom Beck. Laurel told him that was her maiden name and we all laughed at him.

The house was very still and quiet. I went straight to my room, avoiding looking around too much. I could barely look at the door to Susannah's room.

My room looked the same. Susannah never changed out the wallpaper. It's always been the same pink wallpaper with white palm tree silhouettes all over it.  My bed frame was white and the headboard was in the shape of a seashell. When I was little I would always imagine I was a mermaid, just like Ariel, every time I would come into my room. She was my favorite princess and Susannah knew that, which is why she got this bed frame for me.

The white dresser to the left of the bed was the same. All my photo frames of me, belly and the boys still decorated the mirror. The small blue jewelry box with my initial on it. My gold vintage body mirror stood to the left of the window, the sheer pink curtains were pulled back but the blinds were closed.

I started unpacking the few clothes I brought with me and organized them neatly into the dresser. A small piece of paper that sat on top of the dresser caught my eye. I picked up the note that was addressed to my name. The handwriting was horrible, like a child's. I laughed as I realized the handwriting belonged to Conrad.

I'm sorry I ate all your snacks and called you a brat. I will buy more at the store. Don't be angry with me. You're my best best friend in the world. Don't tell the others or they get jealous. Love you Mar.
- Your very sorry best friend, Connie.

I smiled as I folded the note and put it back in its original spot. The memory flashed in my brain.

It was the summer I was turning 13.

The Way I Loved You | Conrad FisherWhere stories live. Discover now