The Summer I Fucked Up (Ch 23)
A Conrad predominant retelling of The Summer I Turned Pretty TV show and book series.
Did you read the books and want to understand what was going on in that little noggin of his? Read my fic to find out that this man has zero thoughts
When the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Belly in the ugliest Christmas pyjamas Conrad had ever seen, holding a fire poker like she was ready to strike, he thought he was hallucinating.
His candy cane fell from his mouth. “What in the world?”
He was confused, however, why he’d be hallucinating this. Maybe all the time delayed on that plane had rotted his brains.
Then her arms were around him and she was squeezing him tightly, a little breathy laugh escaping her lips, and Conrad knew he wasn’t imagining this. When Conrad dreamed of her, there was always something missing that reminded him it wasn’t real. He hadn’t realised how much was missing until this moment. Her scent. Her energy. Her in his arms.
“Why are you holding a poker?” It was the only thing he could think to say.
She stepped out of their embrace, and Conrad missed her warmth immediately. She looked sheepish when she said, “I thought you were a burglar.”
“Of course you did.” He had to bite back his smile. He had thought she was Steven, except in his defence it was Steven’s car in the driveway so that was a logical deduction. Belly assuming he was a burglar? Not so logical.
He followed her back to the living room and sat in the chair opposite the couch. The only light was from the flickering TV light, and Conrad could see that Home Alone had been playing. No wonder Belly let her mind run away from her.
He knew he still had that shocked look on his face, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t expecting her, and it had been almost year since he’d last seen her. “What are you doing here?”
“I was all alone at home, and I just felt like coming. What are you doing here? I didn’t even know you were coming back.”
He wasn’t planning to, but he’d missed Christmas last year since he’d only just moved to California. This year he didn’t have an excuse to miss it, not that he wanted one. It was nice to be back on the east coast, back in this house.
“My dad sent me a ticket at the last minute. It took us forever to land, because of the snow, so I got here late. Since Jere and my dad are still in New York, I figured I’d just come here.”
He squinted at her. Now the shock had faded slightly, and he was able to get a good look at her face, Conrad could see brown stuff smeared all over her face.
“What?” She asked, smoothing down her hair that was sticking up at the back. She turned slightly to wipe at the corners of her mouth.
“You have chocolate all over your face.”
She wiped her mouth with the back of my hand. “No, I don’t. It’s probably just dirt.”
Amused, he raised his eyebrows at the near-empty can of chocolate-covered pretzels. “What, did you just put your whole head in it to save time?”
“Shut it,” Belly said, but she was smiling.
An easy silence fell between them, and Conrad watched as a Belly’s face turned pensive. She shivered, and he realised how cold the house must be. Conrad felt so hot though.
Taking off his coat, he said, “Want me to start a fire?”
“Yes! I couldn’t get it going for some reason.” She snuggled further into her blankets. She was practically swallowed by them.
“It takes a special touch,” Conrad said with an air of fake authority because he knew it would make her roll her eyes. It did.
He bent over towards the fire to light it and he was overcome with such a strong sense of déjà vu. The Christmas before last. That’s when they’d been here together, just like this, joking and laughing. Except here they were two years later, together again, but not together at all.
It almost felt the same, but Conrad knew it wasn’t. A year away had changed him. It must have changed her as well. How could he expect her to be the same when he wasn’t?
Not that any of that mattered now, she was Jere’s girlfriend—not Conrad’s. They had just celebrated their first anniversary. He’d heard they were happy.
Conrad’s fingers started to shake a little, and he knew if he lit the fire now, he’d want to sit here and bask in its warmth, in hers. Who knows what he might say if he did that. Conrad thought back to the way Maurice said he’d described Belly like she’d died. Like Conrad had grieved her. Had he?
“It might be too late for a fire. I think I’m just gonna go crash.” Abruptly, he stood up and headed for the staircase. Then he turned back and asked, “Are you sleeping down here?”
“Yup,” Belly replied. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”
Conrad started again towards the staircase and stopped when he reached it. He looked at her over on the couch, watching him. “Merry Christmas Belly. It’s really good to see you.”
“You too.” She smiled back at him, and his heart reached out towards her, but his feet took him upstairs to his room.
Conrad was awake in his bed for a long time after that. Being here in the winter but knowing Belly was in her room like she’d been every summer, encompassed all of the similarities and differences Conrad felt. It was all the same, just a different season.
Adam had texted him while he sat at the counter, eating his breakfast. He’d said that they were still delayed getting back from New York, so they wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning. Adam said Conrad was welcome to let himself in and wait for them. He knew he should, but he heard Belly’s bedroom door open, and he figured he might just stay a little while longer.
He'd just put a spoon of cereal into his mouth when he heard a smack and Belly go “Ow.”
He stood over her where she was lying on the ground at the base of the stairs, tears forming in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching out a hand to help her sit up, but she waved him off.
“Leave me alone.” She huffed, blinking fast.
“Are you hurt? Can you move?”
“I thought you were gone,” Belly said.
Did she hope he was gone already?
“Nope. Still here.” He knelt down beside her. “Just let me try and lift you up.”
She shook her head. Conrad rolled his eyes affectionately. Leave it to Belly to make a big deal about accepting his help.
Conrad got down on the floor next to her, and they both just laid there, looking up at the ceiling. Even lying next to her just felt electrifying. Conrad wondered how far he’d have to move his hand to touch hers. It didn’t feel far at all.
No. He couldn’t think like that.
“How bad does it hurt, on a scale of one to ten?” He asked just to say something, but he also just wanted her to talk some more. “Does it feel like you pulled something?”
“On a scale of one to ten . . . it hurts an eleven.”
“You’re such a baby when it comes to pain,” Conrad said, but a little bit of worry crept into his voice. It sounded like a solid fall.
“I am not.” Belly’s response didn’t give him a lot of confidence considering it sounded like she was about to start crying.
“Hey, that fall you took was no joke. It was just like how animals slip and fall in cartoons, like with a banana peel.”
Her head snapped in his direction; any hint of tears gone. “Are you calling me an animal?”
He tried to keep his face straight, but the corners of his mouth were betraying him. When he turned to look at her, she was already looking at him with indignation and they both burst out laughing.
Mid-laugh, Belly stopped and said, “Ow.”
He sat up and said, “I’m gonna pick you up and bring you over to the couch.”
“No,” She protested weakly. “I’m too heavy for you. I’ll get up in a minute, just leave me here for now.”
Conrad frowned. “I know I can’t bench-press my body weight like Jere, but I can pick up a girl, Belly.”
He still made an effort to go to the gym when he can, but it was like a religion to Jeremiah who’d go stir crazy if he skipped a day. Conrad was offended that Belly thought he wouldn’t be able to carry her.
She just blinked at him. “It’s not that. I’m heavier than you think. You know, freshman fifteen or whatever.”
Conrad hated that she was even thinking about something like that at a time like this. He wondered if anyone had made a comment to her about it. Steven. Or Jeremiah. He knew it’d kill her to bring up her weight. They’d talked about it a couple times when they used to talk over the phone. She’d tell him about how being a chubby kid affected her, and how sometimes she was worried what would happen if the weight came back.
“Well, you look the same to me.” It was the truth. She still looked beautiful.
Then, very gently, he scooped Belly off the floor and into his arms. She held onto him with one arm around his neck. Even after all these years, she smelt the same.
Without looking at him, she added, “It was more like ten. Freshman ten.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
Conrad carried Belly over to the couch and set her down. “I’m gonna get you some Advil. That should help a little.”
She looked up at him, and Conrad swore it was like how she used to look at him. Before Jere. Before Conrad had fucked it up. But then Conrad blinked, and Belly had already looked away and had gone back to rubbing at her sore head, and he went to the kitchen and got her an Advil.
Conrad and Belly spent the rest of the day together, but not together, as was so familiar to them. It was fine with Conrad though. He’d didn’t have to be the sun or a planet— he’d accept being a star if it meant he could be in her solar system even just briefly. Distant and passing through.
He took the distant thing seriously. He tried to keep a fair amount of space between them. While she watched movies in the lounge room, he read in the kitchen. They shared canned soup and the rest of her pretzel for lunch, but he sat across from her at the table.
Except he still felt like he was so aware of her. The way she’d speak. How she’d tuck her hair behind her ears. The sound of her laugh when he said something. Even the easy silence had an impact on him.
When it started driving him crazy, he went out for a run. He let his legs fatigue as the worked against the sand, and he welcomed the sting of the winter air against his cheeks.
He stopped running and braced his arms against his knees as he doubled over to catch his breath.
“She’s Jere’s girlfriend. Jere’s. Pull it together.”
She was watching Casablanca when he came back. Her nose was tinged red and the couch was littered with tissues.
“This movie makes my heart hurt,” Her nose was blocked from all the crying, so it came out nasally and croaked.
Taking off his fleece, Conrad said, “Why? It had a happy ending. She was better off with Laszlo.”
She looked at him in surprise. “You’ve seen Casablanca?”
“Of course. It’s a classic.”
“Well, obviously you weren’t paying that close of attention, because Rick and Ilsa are meant for each other.”
Conrad snorted. “Their little love story is nothing compared to the work Laszlo was doing for the Resistance.”
She blew her nose and said, “For a young guy, you’re way too cynical.”
He rolled his eyes. “And for a supposedly grown girl, you’re way too emotional.” He headed for the stairs.
“Robot!” She yelled at his retreating back. “Tin man!”
He was laughing as he closed the bathroom door. Belly was so good at making him laugh.
When Conrad went to say goodbye that morning, Belly’s door was slightly ajar. He knocked lightly but there was no response.
He peaked his head in and she was sprawled across the bed, fast asleep. Her hair was all over the place and he swore she was drooling just a little bit.
Conrad bit back a smile and closed the door and left without another word.
It was always too hard to say goodbye to her anyways.
When he arrived home, he accepted a hug from his father and welcomed one from his brother. His dad had to take some call and so Conrad was left alone with Jeremiah.
“Merry Christmas man, sorry we couldn’t spend the day together. What’d you get up to in Cousins?” Jere slapped him on the back.
“Not much, Belly was watching movies, but I was sorta just hanging around the house, reading— I even went for a run.”
Jere blinked and smiled. “Right, yeah, that's what Belly said."
