folklore; conrad fisher

30: delicate

We could hear the faint thumping of the bass coming from the speakers inside of the house, and blurred sounds of chatter among party guests. People walked past us from time to time, either going to or leaving from the party. Drunk, sober, annoyed, sobbing, laughing hysterically––every kind of person could be seen. Yet, amidst the chaos, as I laid on Conrad's shoulder I'd felt as though we were the only two people in the world, just for a brief period of time.

"Come to get away from the party?" He asked.

I tilted my head, "Kind of. I just broke up with Cole."

"Ah, so that was why he entered an Uber all pissed off." He said, smirking afterwards. Normally, I'd do anything to wipe that smug look off of his face, especially at a time like this. But for some reason, I found it a bit endearing, only this once.

"I wonder where he'll stay tonight." I said.

He laughed, "You don't care."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "What makes you say that?"

"Come on," He grinned, "It was obvious you hated the guy."

'Hated' was a bit of a strong word, but he had a point. I honestly was feeling more and more relieved as the realization of Cole and I's breakup set in on me. I also knew Cole would be fine, and that he'd easily be able to purchase a hotel room for the night with his parent's credit card. The thing I didn't like was that Conrad had read me completely regarding the situation.

"You don't know that." I said, trying to subvert his certainty, though the growing smile on my lips quickly gave me away.

"Yeah, right. It was obvious. Anyone with eyes could see that you weren't into him––what was his name again?––Clive? Charlie? No wait... It was Craig... Definitely Craig..."

I jabbed him in the arm, "You know damn well it was Cole. Besides, what makes you the expert on knowing when I'm interested in somebody?"

He shot me a sly smile, and I pushed his face away, feeling my cheeks get hot as he snickered.

The laughter ended, and a bit of silence followed. Conrad cleared his throat, "Did you guys ever say 'I love you?'"

"No." I said quickly.

He looked down and smiled. "Poor guy." He murmured.

There was another wave of quiet between the two of us. My head was still perched on his shoulder. He'd moved his arm so that it was behind my back, his palm planted on the concrete beneath us. His other hand held onto a half-empty beer bottle that he sipped throughout the conversation.

I tapped my feet together, my focus on the floor, "Conrad, I owe you an apology."

His head perked up, "For what?"

"You know what."

He tightened his lips, nodding slowly. It had been the dreaded topic looming over us this entire week, one I kept myself from even thinking about due to the shame. But we both knew that, despite all that he'd done to wrong me, nothing came close to my behavior at Susannah's funeral. I'd managed to make the hardest day of Conrad's life even worse than it had to be. I couldn't hide from the guilt forever, though. It was time I started owning up to my actions that day, starting with him.

"I was so caught up in my grief, and my anger for you, that I'd lost control of myself that day. I should've never lashed out at you like that, especially on that day. I'm so sorry, Conrad. I regret it every day. I wanted to be there for you, and I messed it all up."