folklore; conrad fisher

19: sometimes

I got my first call from Conrad on Halloween. He facetimed me, drunk in an Obi-Wan Kenobi costume. I'd just arrived at a party with my friends, but Conrad being three hours ahead was already on his way home from one. His hair was rustled, his cheeks were flushed, and there was mist on his forehead.

"Conrad? Why'd you call?"

He smirked, "Wanted to see 'ya."

My friend, Amanda, stared at me, impatiently. Our The Shining twin's costumes didn't really make sense unless we were together. We'd gone to a big house party that pretty much our entire grade was attending. I gritted my teeth together, awkwardly, pointing to my phone. Amanda rolled her eyes and told me to 'hurry up' before she strutted into the house.

I glanced back at my phone, "Well, is that it?"

Ignoring me, Conrad asked, "Did you apply to Brown?"

I couldn't figure out the right way to answer his question. Of course I applied. Of course I rewrote my essay about five times because I wanted to get in so badly. Of course I panicked to press the submit button on the Common Application. Of course, I used my Early Decision on Brown instead of Princeton, breaking my promise to Steven. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I did any of these things, especially after being ghosted for months after I left Cousin's.

But as I saw his face on my phone, I found it impossible to lie to him.

"Fine, I did. Early decision." I finally said, "Happy?"

"Atta girl." He said, snarkily.

"What's your problem?"

He laughed, "I honestly didn't think you'd do it. I guess you missed me."

"Fuck you."

"I missed you, too."

I hung up the phone. I went back to join a drunker version of Amanda, who was chatting up some of the boys on the varsity soccer team. They were dressed up as inmates, with poorly drawn sharpie tattoos on their faces, that were smudging from sweat. The party was incredibly stuffy, even though it was in a backyard. There were tons of people there, and it was hard to move around. Amanda handed me a cup she'd poured for me while I was on the phone. She said it contained fruit punch and a variety of different alcohol, a concoction called 'jungle juice.'

I cheersed with her and the boys before taking a sip. It was my first time having alcohol at a school party. After the Summer, I felt a lot more open to drinking––which might not be a great thing to get out of a trip. While Amanda flirted with one of the soccer guys, I found myself forced to make conversation with the other. His name was Cole Quintero. He was a tall, lean, black-haired boy with silver eyes. I'd be lying if I said he wasn't handsome. His skin was tan and his features strong. Many girls in my year were enamored with him. I never really knew him well enough to form an opinion on the boy.

"You and Chris were a thing a couple of years ago, right?" He asked.

I cringed, "Not really. A fling, at most."

"So you've never really had a boyfriend?"

"I guess."

He titled his head slightly upwards, "Weird."

"You think I'm weird?"

"No," He said, "I think it's weird nobody's tried to ask you out yet."

I crossed my arms, "I don't need anyone to."

He snickered, "Never said you did. I think guys are scared of you."

"Why's that?"

"Because you're cool. And pretty."