𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑬𝑹 𝑰 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑬𝑹
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐈 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘
The worst part about all of this, though, wasn't the love, or the fact that it was Daisy, the person I was supposed to hate, no. It was the fact that even...
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• CONRAD FISHER'S POV • • 13 MONTHS BEFORE •
I FELT out of place. I had never been the biggest partier, let alone an enjoyer of full on ragers. But here I was, standing in the corner of a full house while teenagers all around me jumped and screamed along to the lyrics of some rap song I had never heard of. I was uncomfortable. I wanted to leave. But I felt responsible of my little brother and friend, Jeremiah and Steven, both off in the party, probably swishing around vodka in their mouths, while I sipped on a cup of diet coke, as I was the designated driver for the night.
The only reason I had agreed to this was for them. I had others plans for the night, be with my girlfriend, Aubrey, and prepare for football tryouts that were only three weeks away. I had spent my summer surrounding myself in these types of events and was thrilled to know I'd finally have a reasoning behind skipping them when school started back up. I had plenty of friends to attend these types of things with, but even with them, I was never in the mood. My brain was never up for it, nor myself.
Parties just weren't my scene, is all.
I decided I needed to make my way to the backyard and escape this chaos. I could feel my head already becoming foggy from the heat rising throughout the house, my palms sweating with adrenaline. I had stumbled into the yard, inhaling a breath of the fresh sea salt air, letting it soak in my longs like a vaporizer, before exhaling a huff. I ran a hand down my face, becoming exhausted suddenly. I then scanned the yard for any sign of freedom, when all I found were a group of stoners, shriveling their lungs away. I didn't understand the appeal of smoking — I thought it was a waste.
"Ok, so, while Daisy is dancing the night away with Adam Mendez, we'll sneak in, steal the food, plant the paint, and go crazy!" A girl I had recognized as Annabelle Darney raved, smiling with the most machiavellian grin I had ever seen — irking me in a way. Though I hated ease-droppers, I was intrigued by this conversation. I was suddenly thankful a small cloud of people were hung by the patio doors, making my presence not stick out like a sour thumb.
I had known Annabelle Darney from school, but as well from her mother being the mayor of Cousins. I heard very few things about the woman, all playing out to say how pretentious she acted. Annabelle's father owned a series of schools around the district, including our own. He wasn't like his wife. He was kind, and a good father figure. He was the coach of our football team, meaning I had known him well. He treated me nicely, kind. He was the one I'd run to when my father wasn't there. Annabelle was the basic type of girl — she was class president, always sporting the nicest sets of clothing with the classiest pair of jewelry. All the guy's had a crush on her, but unfortunately for them, she was unavailable to their species.
