folklore; conrad fisher

13: imbalance

I sat on the couch watching the Peter Pan movie playing on one of the random cable TV channels, when all of the family members poured out of the house––all of them saying goodbye, except Belly and Conrad.

Tonight would be the Deb Ball, two days after the fiasco that occurred. I paused the room as Peter was bidding Wendy his final goodbye, heading up to my room to sulk. Because of the ball, I hadn't even gotten the chance to relay all of the events to Steven, who was so busy he didn't even notice the tension that loomed over the house.

The previous night I walked into the kitchen for a late-night snack, to find Susannah and Laurel in the living room watching a movie. They invited me to join them, and I thought it would be a good idea, seeing as I hadn't spent much time with just the two of them this Summer. I sat between the mothers, and slowly found myself curling into Susannah's lap. She played with my hair as the movie continued, and a tear ran down my cheek. I didn't want to reveal what I'd known, but a part of my heart broke every time her fingers touched my head. I let out a loud sniff at some point, and the two laughed at me, endearingly, thinking the movie had taken an effect on me. I let them believe that.

Now I was sitting in my bed, mentally preparing to show up at an event I desperately wanted to avoid. But I had to do it, for Susannah. This was bigger than me, or Belly. It was important for her and I refused to ruin it.

I shot a text to Laurel asking if they'd need any extra hands with the chores, and she told me Conrad had already gone to the boutique to pick up Belly's dress, so nothing more was really needed. I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Conrad to only want to do chores if it gives him a convenient reason to be out of the house.

With a couple of hours of free time on my hands, I knew exactly what to do. I ran over to the garage, put on a wetsuit, grabbed Jeremiah's surfboard and headed off the beach.

I splashed into the ocean, marching further in until my feet couldn't touch the floor. That's when I climbed onto the board, pushing the cool current behind me with every stroke. I took a deep breath through my nose with every wave that crushed over the board, watching as the foamy bubbles left on it popped one by one. A large wave came behind me, lifting the board up with it. Hopping onto my feet, my knees wobbled as I tried to maintain balance. I crouched on the surfboard as I began to ride the wave, slowly getting up and feeling the mist of it fall on my back. The board and I moved in a zigzag line, plunging back down as the ocean fell before me. I shook my head, trying to get the ocean water out of my ears.

This was what I needed.

After an hour I paddled back to shore, darting towards the house to get ready. In my state of ocean-given bliss, I'd almost lost track of time. Luckily, the mothers had only barely arrived when I got back to the house, though I got a stern urging from the two to immediately get ready. As I walked towards my room, I heard the faint sound of the shower running. It must have been Conrad. The others were at the Country Club for the pre-ball rehearsal. I debated knocking on the door, entering the shower, and begging for him to forgive me. I wanted to run my hands through his wet hair, and feel his bare skin against mine. I hadn't even realized that it was a luxury I'd never be able to get back.

I waited until I heard the shower turn off before I peeked my head out into the hallway. A moment passed before the door clicked open, and I instantly went back into my room before I could get so much of a glimpse of Conrad. When I heard the sound of him entering his room, I grabbed my things and made my way to the bathroom. I took a nice, warm shower, rubbing shampoo in my sandy hair to wash out the sea water. When I'd felt sufficiently clean, I exited the shower, wrapping one white, cotton towel around me and another around my hair. I did a bit of skincare, and then picked up my wetsuit from the ground to take back to my bedroom.

I passed Conrad's room on my way down the hallway. His door was cracked ever so slightly open, allowing me to see him button up his white dress shirt over a white tee. It reminded me that I still had his shirt in my drawer. The smell of smoke still hung around on it, and I couldn't bear it, so I shoved it underneath all of my clothes. I'd return it to him later.

Conrad turned his head towards me, and I immediately walked away. I entered my room and plopped the wetsuit onto my desk chair. I sat down and yanked the towel off of my head, squeezing it into my hair to dry it off. Then, I used a blow dryer to finish the job, before ironing out my hair, adding light curls to the ends. With my hair done, I applied heavier makeup than normal, making sure to look as dolled up as possible for Belly's special day.

My dress for the deb ball hung on the corner of my dresser. It was a soft, light yellow, satin maxi gown, with a cowl neck and lace-up strap detailing on the back. On the bottom of the dress was a moderately-sized slit, which somehow got a seal of approval from Susannah––though I think she just wanted me to, and I quote: "show off those legs!"

I squeezed into the dress, trying not to rip it as it was probably an expensive purchase, seeing as Susannah had seemingly splurged the boy's college funds on this debutante ball. When I finally got it zipped up, I put on a bit of simple, gold jewelry to accessorize the look. The final step was putting on a pair of white, high, high heels. I knew I'd barely be able to walk in them, but the mothers insisted they were the only pair formal enough for the occasion, and who was I to argue with my hosts?

I strapped them on, struggling to get up afterward. I sighed. This couldn't be hard, after all, I surfed professionally. Balance was my thing. The only issue was, surfing didn't make my feet feel like they were on fire.

I practiced walking around in circles in the heels, to break them in a little. After no longer feeling like I was going to break my ankles from wearing the shoes, I felt confident enough to walk outside. To be honest, I still looked like a giraffe on roller skates, but nonetheless, I grabbed my white clutch bag and headed outside.

The staircase had never been daunting until then. I latched onto the edge as I placed my foot meticulously on each passing step. It took me ages to reach what I thought was the bottom step, but as I lunged forward I quickly realized I had accidentally forgotten a stair. Luckily, though rather unfortunately, I landed in the arms of Conrad Fisher.

His white sleeves were rolled up from helping Susannah load rose bouquets into her trunk. He smelled of cologne and aftershave. His hair was done well, with a single strand falling perfectly in front of his face.

He looked at me for as long as I gazed at him. His hands slowly slid off of me, and he brushed them on his pants. Without another word, he picked up his coat and left the house. I bit myself for not saying something before he left, but when I heard his car pull out of the driveway, I knew it was too late.

Susannah and Laurel came down not long after. The two looked radiant in their dresses, elegantly chosen and fitting for the both of them.

"I thought you'd have driven with Conrad." Laurel said.

I gritted my teeth, "He finished getting ready before me, so I just told him to go."

"Well, now we get to have a bit more of your company." Susannah smiled.

I smiled back at her, but it faltered as I was yet again faced with the uncomfortable reminder of her state. It was getting harder and harder to live in denial of what was going on, now that Summer was nearing its end.

Still, I tried to put my best face forward, eagerly getting into the backseat of Laurel's car. I thought Steven would have taken it, but apparently the escorts got taken to the ball by limousine. I could imagine his excitement, and it made me laugh.

It wasn't a long drive to the ball. When we got there, none of the guests had arrived yet, though we'd gone early because Susannah volunteered to set up. The mothers and I each grabbed as many bouquets as possible to bring to the dressing room. There, the debs were all getting glammed up in front of vanity mirrors, giggling and gossiping about. I looked around for Belly, and when my eyes met hers, I was given a cold glare from the girl. I should've known to expect that sort of reaction. It was warranted, given what I'd done to her. I looked away, not wanting to irk Belly before her moment.

When I got back to the main hall, I took my assigned seat at our table. Of course, it was next to Conrad's.

He reappeared after about a half hour, when more guests began to pour into the building. He took his seat, and refused to even nudge his head my way.

I sighed, dropping my head on my palm. I was in for a rough night.