folklore; conrad fisher

42: banned topic

If things couldn't get worse, that weekend both Jeremiah and Belly left for Boston, leaving Conrad and I alone in the house.

Under any other circumstance I would have gone, too. I would book a flight to Los Angeles and spend my Summer with my family, before returning back to my apartment at Berkeley––except I couldn't. I'd have to leave for Pennsylvania the following week to plan Belly's bridal shower with Taylor. So, I was stuck here with him until then.

The first day was tense. Right after Jeremiah and Belly left we weren't sure of what to do. The two of them acted as a great buffer for the remaining portion of the weekend, after the whole Fourth of July situation with Conrad.

We didn't want to get too close anymore, because then those kinds of things would happen.

Yet, a couple of days later, Conrad woke me up one morning, and asked if I'd like to go for a surf.

So of course, I said yes.

It wasn't too much of a big deal. Few words were spoken between us as we grabbed our surfing gear and walked towards the beach. We reminisced on our first trip to LA, and how much better the waves in Southern California were to the ones in Cousin's. He told me it was his favorite trip he'd ever been on.

We drove down there with Agnes and Angelika my Sophomore year, back when the four of us hung out as a group. I think it was around that time her crush had formed.

All of a sudden everything he had to say was incredibly interesting to her. Or, when a song he chose on our group playlist came on, she'd make it a point to compliment his music taste. The whole time I watched it unfold, I tried my best to hold in how much it irked me. The last thing I wanted to admit was that, for a minute there, I almost hated Angelika Sloane.

Honestly I wouldn't have blamed Conrad if he decided to pursue her. Angelika was one of the most beautiful girls I'd ever met. She was tall and slender, with leather-tan skin and long, shiny, brunette hair. Her eyes were bright green, her lips were plump, and her skin was perfectly clear. In Chicago, she used to model when she was younger. I always wondered why he never gave her a chance.

We spent the night in Santa Barbara before we reached LA. We booked a singular hotel room for the four of us, as it was the cheapest option for a few college students trying to go on a trip.

We went out to a dive bar, using our fake IDs to get in. The four of us got absolutely wasted off of Long Island Iced Teas. I remembered dancing to old The Strokes songs while Agnes and Angelika looked for boys to pay for their drinks.

Of course, Angelika had no trouble finding a handsome boy to flirt with, and at some point she tapped me on the shoulder and told me she was going home with him.

I was unsure of whether or not it was a good idea, given her state, but she was insistent. She sent me his address and told me her location would be on, and I promised to keep track of it as the night progressed. The rest of us remained at the bar for another hour or so before going back to the hotel.

In the car, Conrad whispered to me, "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

At first, my heart dropped, because I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that.

Only then, he cleared his throat, "You know, I think it would be weird if Agnes and I..."

Then it clicked in my head. The two's situationship ended about 6 months before then, and even though they managed to remain friends, I could understand his apprehension towards sharing a bed with her again, so soon.

When we entered the room we were practically stumbling. Agnes went right to her bed, plopping on top of the sheets and dozing off instantly. I had enough strength to change out of my clothes (in the bathroom, of course) and wash my face and teeth. When I walked outside, Conrad was in his normal pajamas: boxers and a t-shirt.