folklore; conrad fisher

11: old cardigan

I took the passenger's seat, while Taylor gladly sat in the back corner behind me. Conrad looked incredibly uncomfortable, fully aware of Taylor's hatred for him.

In a hideous attempt to make conversation, Conrad said, "It's been a crazy night, right?

"Just drive, Conrad." I said, before Taylor could give him a cruel remark that would make the car ride even more awkward than it had to be.

After a painstakingly lengthy car ride, we arrived at the front of Susannah's house. I never thought I could feel any happier arriving in this driveway, but at that moment it was my saving grace. Taylor bolted out of the car, but Conrad didn't let me go quite as fast. He grabbed my shoulder to stop me from leaving, and then turned the car off when he saw the front door close.

"So how long am I going to get the silent treatment for?"

I glared at him, "For as long as I'd like."

"Why? You knew I wanted to talk to you, and then you disappeared after the game."

"Well maybe you could talk about it with Belly."

Conrad looked aghast, "Belly!? What about her?"

"Oh please. I saw the way you two were at the tournament. And then we read the text you sent her about the deb ball."

"I'm sorry," He said "I felt bad about the deb ball. I didn't want Belly to think I was doing it as a chore. But I don't know why you're jealous. I see her the same way you do, like a little sister. Since when have I given you any reason to think otherwise?"

I wasn't sure what to say. Maybe Belly's confession had somewhat convinced me that there was a romantic tension lingering between the pair. Perhaps, I had imagined it as much as she had.

Conrad let go of the wheel, which he had been gripping on to for some time. He looked at me as though to say something, but instead, opened his door and walked out.

I followed him, now being the one desperate to talk, "Conrad wait!"

"Forget it."

He marched into the house and slammed the door behind it. When I finally pulled it open, he was out of sight. I was so frustrated by the whole situation. I ran up to my room and locked myself in there. Nobody else, other than Conrad, Taylor and I were home. I didn't want to imagine what Steven was getting up to with Shayla at the party, nor what was keeping Belly and Jeremiah gone for so long.

I laid in bed for around thirty minutes before getting out, and walking down the hallway. I stood in front of Conrad's door, swallowing my pride. Was this how he felt preparing to apologize to me when we were only five years old?

I lightly knocked on his door, not wanting Taylor to overhear. He clicked it open, not exactly happy to see me there. Still, he allowed me inside. I stood in front of the door as he sat back down on his bed.

"I'm sorry." I finally said, breaking the silence.

He shook his head, "You don't have to be."

"What did you want to talk about?"

He was about to answer when we heard someone entering downstairs. I looked outside of Conrad's window to see Laurel's car parked, and realized it was Steven who had come in. He went upstairs and straight to his room. The walls in the house were thin, so Conrad and I figured it was best to continue the conversation elsewhere.

"Let's go outside." I whispered.

"Here then," He replied, throwing me a garment, "You'll need this."

It was a vintage-style cream cardigan that Conrad wore in high school. On the chest was a large, navy patch that had his school's initials on them. Underneath the patch was a pocket, and another on the opposite end of the sweater. The center of the cardigan had a large stripe in the same, navy color, with buttons going all the way up. The trim on the edge of the sleeves matched the middle stripe.