the summer you noticed me ↠ conrad fisher {1}

t w e n t y - f o u r

     I have a soft smile on my lips, as a scrunch my eyebrows up in confusion. "It's always been me?" I repeat with a question.

      "You were 10. You had your hair in pigtails, and you were wearing that justice tank top that you lived in that summer. The one that had a neon green crop top, over the tank but it was actually one shirt?" He laughs. I can't laugh. I'm so caught up in what he's saying that I can't move. I can't breathe.

     "You we're wearing pink shorts with it. Neon shorts, of course. You never matched. It was the first summer your mom let you pick your own clothes and just to spite her you mix matched because you knew it drove her crazy," I chuckle quietly but tears are pooling at the corners of my eyes. They're ready to topple over. He isn't looking at me, he's staring off into the distance. There's a small smile on his lips as if he's replaying the memory back to himself.

     "I remember you we're hanging out with Belly, and you guys really wanted a milkshake but no one would drive you to the store and it was too far to walk. So you had the smart idea of looking up how to make milkshakes at home into YouTube and figured out how to use the blender. I don't know what the point of this story was, but it was the moment I knew I wanted to be with you for a lifetime. Most kids would of cried and whined until someone took them, or just ate normal ice cream. You wanted something and you got it, no matter what. You always found a way to make any situation better, after that day I stopped seeing you as Belly's annoying little bestfriend but Belly's and my annoying little bestfriend. Especially because you gave me a milkshake too, and you knew my favorite flavor was chocolate without me having to tell you. You just smiled and said I know." He looks at me now, and his eyes widen when he sees I'm crying. "If you didn't understand the real purpose of that was to tell you that from that day I've felt something for you. I just was too young and dumb to understand what it was."

     "That story was everywhere," I laugh, through tears. "I do remember my mix match phase, wasn't my best moment but I did love my neon that summer and I will never regret that." I say pointing an accusing finger at him. "But I do remember that day," I say gently. "You hung out with us after that. You stopped playing chess with the boys to teach me how to dance because I kept messing up with Belly." I say.

      "I think that was the big part I missed, because that was the actual reason I fell for you that day."

      Hearing those words fall off his lips I want to melt in his arms. He's got me. I'm his, I was only ever his to begin with. It's always been him.

     I close my eyes and a few tears slip onto my cheeks. This all sees too good to be true. There is no way Conrad is standing in front of me pouring his heart and soul out in front of me. When his finger wipes my tears away, my eyes flutter open as a reminder that this isn't a dream.

     "I'm scared I'm going to wake up," I whisper my thoughts. "I don't want to wake up."

      His face doesn't wavier. He shows no sign of thinking I'm crazy. He just stares back into my gaze, willing me to accept that this is real. He leans in and places a kiss on my lips. "Hey," he smiles. "This as real as it's gunna get."