folklore; conrad fisher

39: sprained

That night Jeremiah and Belly watched a movie in front of the pool, sharing a bottle of wine on a large floatie, covered in blankets. They mocked Conrad as the film progressed, because he'd called the wedding 'ridiculous,' and even moreso, refused to be the best man.

I was shocked when Jeremiah told Belly and I, not long after our own conversation. He came in, his wetsuit halfway on, telling us the news. He was clearly devastated, but masked it well.

When Conrad finally came back, I could hear Belly telling him off. That served him right. I knew he'd been against the wedding, but I couldn't believe he would go this far. Even Steven finally came around on it, as I'd heard from Belly earlier.

So when I overheard the couple teasing Conrad, I didn't even feel an ounce of guilt for him.

To my surprise, he came into my room not long after. He stayed by the doorway, not allowing himself inside.

"I'm going home tomorrow night. You guys can have fun with your wedding delusions."

He left the room, but I yelled out at him, just before I knew I was out of his earshot:

"Susannah wanted you to be there for him right? Is that what you're doing?"

I could hear his feet stop. He walked back into the room.

"What did you just say to me?"

"Tell me I'm wrong." I said, trying to control my breathing. I wasn't going to give into Conrad this time, and let him win this fight. This was for Belly.

It occurred to me then that this week was the first time Conrad and I had fought in years, and this awful, familiar feeling wasn't one I missed at all.

He pointed a finger at me, "You don't get to talk to me about her."

I didn't respond immediately, but I could my jaw clenching as I attempted to hold in the lump growing in my throat. I wanted to pretend like that didn't hurt me, even though I was biting back tears. I watched this boy, who I'd grown so close to these past few years, stare at me with a look I'd recognized from such a long time ago: a face was riddled with the anger he'd pent-up, and perhaps even the grief.

Gaining the courage to do so, I finally stood up, walking towards him, "Maybe you're right. But as your friend, I have to hold you accountable, too. Every time something gets hard, you run away. You've done it to me so many times. Don't do it to Jeremiah."

He wouldn't meet my eye, "They're being reckless."

I stepped closer to him, "Love is reckless."

"I have to protect him."

I sighed, "Fine. Have it your way, then."

As I turned to leave, he finally locked eyes with mine. He flinched, turning back to see if he should go, then returned his focus to my face.

After a beat, he nodded, then left. He could be stubborn, but I knew it was only because he cared. He just never knew how to go about caring about something. All he could do was shut people out. That was Conrad Fisher.

It was a restless night for me. I was disappointed in myself for not being able to get through to him. It was a miracle I'd finally managed to doze off that night.

---

When I woke up the next day, it was already nearing the afternoon. I got up, rubbing my eyes as I made my way outside. I saw Conrad standing in front of Belly's doorway, leaning towards her room. He was holding onto a large duffel, his backpack on as well.