#jeremiah fisher fan fic
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bad in the bones (c.f) (part 9)
a/n: hey all!! I’m super excited to have this next part out. I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted anything but I have been working on a lot of things outside of this platform that I hope to share with you all at some point. Please let me know what you think!! I miss talking to you all <3
It was fun seeing Conrad in secret. There were stolen kisses in the backyard when no one was around and knocks on the wall that separated us that always seemed to come when I couldn’t sleep. He could read my mind, I think. Always hearing me think about him. I’d sneak out my room and tap on his door and he opened it so quickly it was like his hand was on the doorknob waiting for me.
He’d grab my hand and lock the door behind me and sometimes, I’d wake up with the birds chirping the next morning and have to sneak back to my room but sometimes we stayed awake as long as possible like we needed to savor every second of this. One night, I laid on my back starring up at his ceiling and he strummed on his guitar almost too quietly and I leaned over on my side, propped myself up on my elbow and Conrad was already staring at me. “What?” He whispered with a smile.
“Stop,” I told him. His hands ceased to play and he moved the guitar off of his lap. He put his palms down on the bed on either side of me and crawled on top of my body, forcing me down onto my back again. His eyes were too brown, his hair too floppy, and his smile so perfect I couldn’t stand it any longer so I kissed him.
My fingers found the hair on the back of his neck and he leaned into me, pressing his hips against mine. Sometimes things got steamy like this: our bodies pressed too firmly together until we were just a pile of sweat, saliva, and heavy breathing. I’ve stopped him every time not because I didn’t want to but because I haven’t had sex with anyone except for Josh and the idea of that happening was almost too much for me to think about. Especially in moments like this were I was too flustered to think straight. I stopped him every time except for last night.
Tonight, I let his hands linger under my shirt for a little longer than normal and when he looked up at me to make sure I was okay, where I usually shake my head no, I nodded my head yes. Our clothes were off and our bodies were sweaty and everything was quiet except for his breathing in my ear.
I laid next to him with his blanket wrapped around my naked body and I didn’t speak until he turned his head to look at me. “Are you okay?” He sounded guilty and that made me feel guilty and I nodded my head. It was the truth. I was okay. “Do you regret that?” He asked again and this time I shook my head. I didn’t.
“Did you know people burn 3 and a half calories a minute on average during sex?” I asked, looking over at him. His cheeks were flushed and he smiled and then he kissed me. I leaned into him and kissed him back. “I should go back to my room,” I whispered against his lips. He nodded in agreement and then I got dressed and returned to my room.
I didn’t sleep at all which is probably directly related to the bags under my eyes that Laurel is packing concealer on right now. “I never noticed how bad they were,” she whispered as she applied more.
“It doesn’t need to be perfect,” I mumble to her. She gives me a look and I don’t look at her. “I don’t even want to go to this, you know that.”
“Yea, well, Belly is really excited so why don’t you just be happy for her?”
“I am happy for her,” I lie. Laurel doesn’t reply, just adds blush to my cheeks. “Just don’t make her wear a fascinator, okay?” I look at her through my lashes and she smiles at my joke and the air in the room relaxes.
“She’s not wearing a fascinator,” she assures me. I nod and Laurel fluffs out my hair. “It’s time to go.”
Seeing Conrad in a suit is more shocking than I anticipated. I’m so used to his disheveled, salt-air hair and swim trunks that seeing him all put together is making me feel things I wasn’t prepared for. He eyes me from the steps of the country club, careful not to look for too long but I smile and wave at him as we walk up.
Susannah is on Conrad’s arm and she smiles as Laurel and I approach. “There you guys are!” She exclaims like she has been waiting for us forever. She arrived earlier with Belly to help set up. “You look beautiful,” she tells me as I approach, squeezing my arm gently.
“Look at us,” she says, looking at all of us standing together. She pauses and her eyes begin to water. “It’s perfect.”
“Mom, you’re not going to cry, are you?” Jeremiah asks from next to me. He and Steven have their suits hauled over their shoulders, waiting to go inside and finish getting ready.
“What and ruin my makeup? No way,” she says and gives her son a smile. “Everything is going to be different next year. Conrad’s going off to college,” she says, bumping her shoulder into Conrad. He gives her a shy grin. “It might be the last summer we’re all together.” The group gets quiet for a moment. It feels like no one is breathing.
“Just don’t forget, I get to dance with you tonight,” Jeremiah says, breaking the tension like he doesn’t know it’s there but I swear I can see Conrad’s muscles tighten.
Jeremiah hands his suit to Steven as he grabs Susannah’s hand, twirling her around and dipping her like I’m sure he has practiced many times over this last summer. When he returns her upright, her hand goes to her head and she stumbles, losing her footing. “Mom, are you okay?” Jeremiah asks, steadying her. We all reach out for her like she could break at any moment but Conrad grabs her elbow first, putting her back on his arm.
“It’s been so long since I’ve danced, I must be out of practice,” she says, waving it off and wrapping her arm back around Conrad’s.
“We should go inside,” he suggests. Susannah nods and he leads her inside. The rest of us hesitate for a moment but then we all follow Laurel’s lead and head inside too. When we reach our table, Conrad helps Susannah into her seat and then pulls out one with my name on the placemat. “For you,” he whispers quietly, giving me a look only I can decipher. I slide into my seat and as he pushes me in, he leans forward. I can feel his breath on my ear. “You look perfect.”
Before I can reply, he’s sliding into the seat next to mine. Conrad’s hand finds my thigh under the table. We’re touching but it’s a secret, just the way I like it. We’re sitting around a decorated table - a pretty candle burning right in the center of our perfect china plates. They’re almost too pretty to put food on, but there’s a caterer walking around offering people appetizers and we can’t help but take some.
When the announcements start, we wait for Belly’s. Girl after girl descend down the steps in fluffy white dresses and tiaras on their head with men on their arms. I see her poking her head out from behind the curtian. I can tell she’s nervous even from over here. “Isabelle Conklin. Daughter of John Conklin and Laurel Park,” she starts as Belly and Jeremiah meet in the center of the stage and descend down the stairs. I can’t help but notice how her eyes find Conrad’s, despite having his brother on her arm. I look over at Conrad and he’s focused but I can’t tell on who. They bow and present themselves to our table. Laurel gives Belly a thumbs up and I look down at my lap.
Conrad’s hand is still on my thigh and he squeezes it. I look up at him and he’s looking at me with furrowed brows. He mouths the words what’s wrong and I shake my head. He holds his hand out palm up and I put mine in it gratefully. Belly and Jeremiah present themselves in front of our table. Belly does a curtsey and Jeremiah bows and they’re both smiling way too big but I give her a thumbs up because she is beautiful. She’s not looking at me, though, she’s looking at Conrad and it makes my chest tighten. I had spent the last few days hiding, avoiding Belly at all costs because I can’t look her in the eyes anymore. Not when all I can think about is Conrad’s voice in my ears, his hands on my skin, and his lips on mine. She sits down next to me for breakfast and all I can think about is if his cologne is still lingering on my clothes from the night before and even as she’s chatting and laughing over her cereal bowl, I’m watching the doorway for him. Even right now, as she stares at him, my hand squeezes a little bit tighter on his and I feel guilty.
I turn to him and whisper in his ear, not caring who is watching and say, “can we get out of here?” I pull back to watch for his reaction and he nods. When all the debs are dismissed, I slide out of my chair excusing myself from the table. The hallway is all too quiet compared to the ballroom and I lean against the bathroom door and wait for him. The door creaks open and when I finally see him, it’s like I can breathe again. “You’re going to get us in trouble if we skip this thing, you know,” he laughs as his hands grab my waist and pull me to him. I wrap my arms around his neck and shrug, kissing his cheek.
“The classical music is rotting my brain,” I tease.
“Didn’t you used to play classical music?” He asks. I move my fingers, tapping my fingertips against his back as if I’m playing the piano.
“Rotted my brain then, too.” When Conrad smiles, I think my heart stops and I kiss him. He presses his body closer to mine, pressing my back against the door. I pull away from him, kissing his cheek once more. “Want to go outside? By the pool?”
“We really shouldn’t miss any more of this,” he says. I can feel his heart beating in his chest and his resistance despite the certainty in his voice. “This really means a lot to my mom.”
“You did it last year, right? It’s Jeremiah’s turn, she won’t even notice.” I push against him, making his grip on me tighter and his smile gets a little bigger as he considers it. “Come on,” I beg, fluttering my lashes at him for just a moment before his lips crash against mine and my feet are off the ground.
Conrad carries me down the rest of the hall and out the door to the pool. It’s dark out, the only lights are reflecting on the pool but it’s quiet. Conrad lays me down on the lounge chair, making sure my dress doesn’t drag on the ground and he props himself up next to me. “Isn’t it peaceful out here?” I ask after a long moment of silence.
“You hate the water,” he reminds me.
“I like the sound,” I say. “Being by the water with you is the only time I don’t feel crippled with guilt.” Conrad’s breathing hitches and I feel him freeze next to me. “Don’t do that,” I whisper and shake my head.
“Do what?”
“Tense up like that. Like I said something wrong.”
“I just don’t want you to feel that way,” he says. His nose brushes against my cheek, moving away stray hairs that fell into my face. He kisses my jawline and leans his forehead against my temple. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I tell him. “That’s why I feel this way. Belly loves you.”
“And I love you.” His voice is so quiet I barely hear him but then he says it again. And again. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he repeats over and over again until I shut him up with my mouth and pull him on top of me. He mutters those three words as he kisses me. “You can say it back, you know,” he says, out of breath but smiling.
“I love you, too,” I tell him. “And I love her and I can’t hurt her.” Conrad’s knuckles brush against my cheek once before he rolls off of me and stands up. “What are you doing?”
“Just stand up,” he says, holding his hand out to me. I take it and he pulls me up next to him. He traces my wrist and up my forearm and back down to my fingers before taking my hand into his. “We have the rest of the summer,” he says. “And then, we tell her. You tell her.” I nod, not fully convinced. “I know you’ll be scared. I know you’ll try and back out and that’s okay. But you just have to jump sometimes, right?” I look over at the water as he talks. Sometimes you just have to jump.
“Right,” I mumble. I take a step toward the edge of the pool and hoist my dress up exposing my feet. I use Conrad’s hand to steady myself as I step out of my heels and I dip my toes into the water. “Sometimes you just have to jump.”
“Not into the water, you fool,” Conrad laughs, trying to pull me away from the pool but I don’t budge. I dip my foot into the water further, repeating his words in my mind. “What are you doing?”
“I’m afraid of a lot of things,” I say. “Which is weird because my whole life has been about trying new things but I’m afraid of a lot of things. Meeting new people, change, bugs, mostly spiders but all bugs, really. And the water.” I pull my foot out of the water and try to catch my breath. “I’m afraid of hurting Belly and I’m afraid to love you but there’s only one thing on that list that I can change.”
I can feel Conrad watching my every move, holding onto my hand like I might break at any moment. “Yeah, I’m sure I could find some bugs somewhere around here,” he says carefully. I can’t help but laugh. I shake my head and turn around, my back facing the water and I can see his chest deflate, relief washing over his face.
“I’m not talking about the bugs,” I say, yanking his hand so he stumbles forward and I’m falling backward and it all feels like it’s happening in slow motion until we crash into the water. My arms are flailing, trying to gain traction in the water and my lungs feel like they’re on fire, and for a moment, I feel free. But then the panic sets in and my hands are grasping at nothing and I think I’m drowning but then he wraps his arm around my waist and he brings me to the surface and when I can finally breathe again, I start to laugh.
“You’re fucking crazy,” he says, trying to catch his breath. “Why are you laughing? We have to go back in there and we’re soaked!” I can see the amusement in his eyes and I know he’s not mad because when I kiss him, he kisses me back.
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#conrad fisher#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher fan fic#gavin casalegno#conrad fisher imagine#christopher briney
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seventeen going under (j.f)
seventeen going under: part 1
synopsis: Summer Jeremiah was always her favorite Jeremiah. He had pretty freckles, sun-bleached hair, and he never wore a shirt. She had loved him in secret when the leaves were falling and when the snow-covered the ground and she loved him in secret when it all melted and the asphalt warmed up. She didn't want it to be a secret anymore. Not this summer.
A/N: this is going to be a multi-part series with lots of drama and fluff and angst and I hope you guys like it idk I'm rusty. please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!!!
I was laying on Belly’s bed, the sheets tucked under my arms, staring at the ceiling. I was pretty sure she was asleep because her breathing was shallow and steady and her right hand was twitching next to mine. I don’t know why I even agreed to stay the night. Belly just looked so overjoyed when my mom brought up the idea at dinner last night, I don’t know how I could have said no. And then there was him.
I knocked on the wall behind me twice. The knocks were soft, maybe most people would not even have recognized them as intentional but when I heard three knocks back, I swung my legs off the bed and carefully stood up so I wouldn’t wake Belly.
In the hallway, I was able to breathe because there he was. Jeremiah. I sighed and whispered, “hey.”
“Hi,” he whispered back. “Can’t sleep?” I shook my head and leaned against Belly's bedroom door. My hands were on the knob, ready for a fast escape if I were ever to need one. Not Jeremiah though, he stood in his open doorway with nothing but a pair of sweat shorts on and messy hair.
Summer Jeremiah always made my heart grow ten sizes. Like the Grinch when he finally got a Christmas. Winter Jeremiah didn’t have any freckles on his face and his hair was darker and always pressed down with a beanie. Summer Jeremiah, well he had sun-bleached hair and waves from sea salt in his hair and his eyes always seemed to match the blue of the ocean when we were in Cousins.
He nodded his head toward the hallway behind him and I nodded back in agreeance, following him quickly down the stairs. I was light on my feet, careful to not make a sound. I could see my mom on the big lazy boy chair, reclined back with a glass of red wine in between her fingers. Susannah and Laurel were sitting on the couch, Susannah’s head on Laurel’s shoulder and they were all laughing at whatever was going on during the movie they were watching. It was an old black and white film. Something they probably have watched a million times. The music was just loud enough they couldn’t hear the back door sliding open.
I followed Jeremiah outside, through the big sliding door in the dining room. There was something about the pool at night. The way the moonlight made the water glow or how I could only see Jeremiah smile when the pool light hit him just right. I didn’t see Jeremiah’s smile, though. Not this time. This time, Conrad was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. And he was smoking a joint.
“You really shouldn’t be smoking,” I tell him. It sounded more like a nag than anything, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t even know why I said it. I sat down on the edge of the pool as far away from Conrad as I could. Jeremiah was close on my heels, snagging a towel from one of the lounge chairs. I was only in shorts and a tank top, my usual sleep apparel and the night sky was a little chilly. Jeremiah always noticed when I had goosebumps. Before he sat down next to me, he draped the towel over my shoulders. His feet hit mine under the water.
“You said that to me last month,” Conrad droned. I looked over at him and his hard eyes were staring back at me. “Not like the moms will care.”
I supposed he was right. Rules didn’t exist in Cousins. You could eat ice cream for breakfast and stay in your pajamas all day or swim until your fingers and toes pruned up. No one ever said anything because it was summer.
During the fall and winter, my mom wouldn’t so much as let me leave the house in sweatpants. I always had a curfew and breakfast was made before I left for school every day. “Don’t forget your jacket,” she would call out before I’d leave the house.
Susannah was the same way. Always make sure the boys were getting good grades and keeping up their chances of football scholarships. Mr. Fisher rode them like crazy about football. Especially Conrad. He was good, too. He would have had a scholarship if he hadn’t quit over spring.
I heard them fighting through the backyard one night. I was outside reading a book on the back patio when I heard Mr. Fisher yelling at Conrad. It was hard to make out a lot of it, but football and are you crazy and what the hell were you thinking were all easily recognizable. I tried to focus on my book and not eavesdrop but eventually, when it went quiet, Conrad stumbled through our connecting gate and sat down next to me with a joint between his fingers. “That stuff isn’t good for you,” I told him. He told me he didn’t care and lit it anyway. I checked to make sure the lights in the house were out. “What was that about?”
“I quit football,” he told me. I had gathered that much but didn’t say anything because I didn’t want him to know how much I had heard. I just nodded my head and waited for him to keep going. “I didn’t wanna be tied down this summer.” Like Jeremiah and Steven, I thought, who both had already gotten jobs at the country club for the summer. Cousins was still two months away, but the air was getting warmer and everyone could feel the summer air already.
“Is that all?”
Conrad took a hit of his joint and then offered it to me. I shook my head and he took another one. “Yeah.” I didn’t believe him, but I let it go. I knew the Fishers sometimes better than I thought I knew my own family. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember except for during the months of June and August when they went to Cousins beach. When I was thirteen, the beach house next to theirs went up for sale and it didn’t take much convincing for my mom to put in an offer. “I need my two best friends during the summer,” Susannah begged my mom. Laurel was her real best friend, I think even my mom knew that, but something about how Susannah smiled made you just wanna agree. So, for the last four summers, the Fishers were my summer neighbors, too.
I kicked my feet in the water of the pool and despite it being heated, when my foot was not touching Jeremiah’s, it felt cold. I glanced over at my side of the yard. The kitchen light was still on. “I should go home,” I tell the boys. Jeremiah stopped kicking his feet at my words.
“Why?” I looked over at him and then glanced at Conrad, who could not be bothered to look in our direction so I looked back at Jeremiah. There was his smile.
“Lights on. My dad is probably awake and besides, I can’t sleep in Belly’s bed. It’s a twin.” That was an excuse and I knew it. Jeremiah knew it. Conrad’s eyes finally glaring at me told me that even he knew it. “I’ll come over for breakfast, alright? We can go get the good muffins.”
I stood up, wrapping the towel tighter around my shoulders and Jeremiah was quick to stand up with me. “I’ll walk you,” he said. I started to protest when he put his hands on my shoulders, spun me around, and walked me toward the shrubs that divided our two beach houses. When Jeremiah and I were younger, we dug out a small path through the bushes. Jeremiah said that going through the front took too long so we grabbed Mr. Fisher's old weed wacker and cleared out a little path. Every year we have to cut it back a little, but every year, it’s there.
I didn’t wear my flip-flops out and hesitated before going through. There were twigs and branches and probably really sharp rocks down there that I couldn’t see that my shoes always shielded me from. “Oh, please,” Jeremiah huffed. He stepped in front of me and bent down, motioning me to jump on his back. I laughed and did as I was told, wrapping my arms around his neck. His skin was sticky with the late June heat and I couldn’t help myself but nestle my head against his blonde curls. “I would carry you across all of the trenches, my girl,” he mumbled.
My girl. My Jeremiah. Before there were summers in Cousins there was Christmas break in Boston, and Spring break in Miami, and a typical Friday evening in the basement of the Fisher house. He was my best friend before I knew what best friends were. We bathed together before it got weird and we slept in each other’s beds even after we probably shouldn’t have. I cried on his shoulder when the first boy I ever loved broke my heart and he was laughing when I realized the first boy I ever loved was him.
When we got to my patio, he set me down. The pavement was dry unlike the Fisher’s, where someone was swimming at all times. It seemed like the ground was never dry over there. “Thank you,” I told him. He smiled and sandwiched my head between his hands, kissing my forehead. I wanted to swat him away because I probably had sticky skin, too, but I didn’t.
“Can I come in?” He asked. I gently shook my head, even though I wanted to say yes.
“If my dad is awake, you probably shouldn’t.” My dad only had one rule. No Boys. That included Jeremiah and Conrad and even Belly’s brother, Steven. Especially no boys with the door shut or past 9pm. Sneaking in was Jeremiah’s MO, though. When he was ten, he learned to climb the trellis outside of my bedroom window and I learned to leave the window unlocked. There were countless late-night show binges and movie marathons that ended in me falling asleep on Jeremiah’s shoulder and him waking me up right before the sun rose so he could sneak back out.
He nodded his head as if he understood. “Okay,” he mumbled. I nodded my head as best as I could with his hands still on my face. They were a little more relaxed, his wrists resting on my shoulders and his thumb grazing my jawline. “Muffins?” I nodded and I could have sworn he thought about kissing me.
“Goodnight,” I told him, slowly backing away from him. He released me and his hands dropped to his sides. He was smiling softly as I backed away, grabbing the door handle from behind me. I didn’t want to break eye contact. It was like a sick game of you hang up first because neither of us wanted to leave. At least, that’s what I told myself. Eventually, I opened the door quietly and slipped into the softly lit kitchen and I had to force myself to not look back at him.
The back door was unlocked, something that my parents started doing when I was allowed to stay at the Fisher’s later than my mom did. My dad was sitting in the living room with a book in his lap. The only light was from the oven stovetop and the lamp next to him. I wanted to sneak in behind him and go upstairs without seeing him but I cleared my throat, causing him to turn around.
“Hey, honey.” My dad put the book down, keeping his place with his index finger. “You’re home late. Your mom still there?” I nodded my head and picked at the loose thread hanging off from the couch cushion.
“I couldn’t sleep. Mom should be home soon, I think. I didn’t tell her I was leaving.” He nodded and shifted in his seat. “I should go to bed.” He nodded and I felt his eyes watching me the entire time I trod up the stairs.
On my fifteenth birthday, I was dumped for the first time. His name was Elijah Willis. He was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, the first boy who told me he loved me. I loved him, too, while it lasted. The way his hands gently cupped my cheeks will forever be burned into my skin. He had always seemed too perfect, holding open my door, always calling at 9 pm sharp, always getting me a snack from the gas station even though I said I didn’t want anything.
He was perfect. Until he came to my birthday party late, a single tulip in hand that I was pretty sure he picked from the neighbor's lawn. That’s not what I noticed, though. I noticed his messed-up hair and tired, sad eyes.
We were all outside, trying to get the last taste of warmth. I was starting to feel October on my fingertips. “You’re late,” I said.
“Can we talk?” He asked, glancing around at all my friends that stared back at him like he was a fish out of water. They all had wondered where he was. I even heard Melanie and Jaz whispering to each other by the fire about how this is how it ends.
“You wanna show up to my birthday late? And then ask me If I wanna talk?” I felt my cheeks go hot. My legs turned to jello. “No. I don’t wanna talk,” I hissed. I put the words talk in quotations using my fingers and Elijah looked taken back. Eventually, we did talk. Well, he talked. He told me about how while I was in Cousins over the summer, he was hooking up with some girl from his art class and decided it was just time to end this thing with us. Those were his words, not mine.
I didn’t go back to the party. Instead, I went upstairs and cried into my pillow until Jeremiah found me. I forgot he had been downstairs, witnessing the whole thing. I bet he even watched through the window as Elijah told me about her, watching every expression my face made. I bet everyone did.
I had my head buried in my pillow and the only reason I knew it was Jeremiah that was in my room was because he smelled like sandalwood and mint. He tugged at the end of my pillow. “Pretty girls don’t cry,” he said in a sad attempt for a joke.
“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to,” I tried to tease back but it came out all too quickly and I just cried harder. Jeremiah grabbed me then, pulling me into his chest. I stopped crying when I saw his hand. “What happened?” His knuckles weren’t red like that before. He had white gauze wrapped around them but I could see the blood seeping through. “What did you do?” I looked up at his face. A huge red circle right in the center of his cheek. Like he was wearing blush, but cooler.
“You should see the other guy.” The other guy is Elijah, I assumed. How could I be mad? Not at Jeremiah. I didn’t smile or laugh at his joke or even start crying again. I just settled into his chest as he settled into my bed and he held me like that for as long as I needed him to. And after I no longer it, he delivered me ice cream and packs of Twizzlers until my teeth felt like they were rotting out of my head but eventually, I felt better.
Now, at seventeen, that memory is not jaded with Elijah and his summer fling. I do not think about the boy who broke my heart. That memory is categorized as The Moment I Knew I Loved Jeremiah Fisher.
As I threw my hair back in a loose pony, just enough to get it out of my face, my dad called for me from the bottom of the stairs. “Y/N! Jeremiah is here!” I slipped on my shoes and ran out the door as fast as I could. Jeremiah was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved in his shorts pockets. He had a goofy grin on his face. “Where are you two off to so early?” My dad asked as I descended the stairs, my flip-flops marking every step.
“Muffins,” Jeremiah turned his grin to my dad. “Want us to bring you and Mary some?” My dad pondered before taking Jeremiah up on his offer. “Will do, sir.” My dad curtly nodded and then left the foyer, off toward the living room. My mom must still be sleeping. I didn’t hear her come in last night from my bedroom, so I don’t know how late she was out.
“Ready?” I asked as I grabbed my bag from the table next to the door. Jeremiah bumped out his arm toward me for me to wrap my arm around, so I did. We walked, linked arms, to his red Jeep. He loved that Jeep. I loved that Jeep. We had some of our best memories in that car. He even taught me how to drive a stick in it.
“You have to keep your foot on the clutch and let it off slowly,” he tried to explain. I shook my head, frustrated that the car kept stalling but Jeremiah just laughed every time. “You’re gonna get it, trust me. It’s easier to learn manual if you do this first.”
“I don’t wanna do this first!” I exclaimed, hitting my palms on the steering wheel. Jeremiah was a few months older than me so he took his test on his sixteenth birthday. He wanted me to do the same, so we practiced and practiced all spring and summer so that when September rolled around, I would be ready.
“I did and I’m an amazing driver,” he gleamed. I glared at him. It must have been fierce because he recoiled in the passenger side seat. “Fine, fine. We’ll switch to my mom's car.”
“No. No. I wanna do it.” That was one of my biggest flaws, I always thought. Once I set my mind to something, I was determined to finish it. Whether I wanted to or not. “Tell me again.”
So he told me. Again and again until finally, one very hot August night, I did it. Jeremiah cheered when the car took off without stalling. He threw his arms out of the window and yelled at the top of his lungs, “my girl did it!”
I drove us anywhere and everywhere that night. To our favorite ice cream spot in downtown Boston where I had to parallel park for the first time but my confidence was boosted, so I was so certain I could do it. Jeremiah walked me through it but when I got out to inspect my work, the car was on an angle and the wheels weren’t straight. “At least you’re not in the street,” Jeremiah said, shrugging his shoulders before he switched sides with me and fixed the park job.
We walked down the busy street until we saw the big neon OPEN sign in the window and mint green table and chairs out front and Jeremiah held open the door for me. He paid for our ice cream even though I got a double scoop with sprinkles. We walked further down the street until we reached the park we played at when we were kids and we sat on the bench, Jeremiah sneaking licks of my ice cream even though I told him no. I took my cone and tapped his nose with it, leaving a tiny dot of vanilla on the tip. He tried to lick it off with his tongue, but it didn’t reach. “Get it for me?” He asked with his puppy dog eyes.
I wiped it off with my index finger and before I could wipe it away on Jeremiah’s shorts, he grabbed my wrist and brought it to his mouth, sucking the ice cream off. He didn’t break eye contact with me the entire time and when I cleared my throat and turned away, he shot up and grabbed my hand and we walked back the way we came.
I drove out of downtown and to the side streets. The ones that Jeremiah had driven me
down multiple times before, always letting me pick the CD but this time, I let him pick. He picked The Beatles and he silently sang to me as I drove. Eventually, the sun came up and since it was still late August, the moms were in the summertime spirit and even my mom was stumbling back home through the front yard when I parked the car.
I hung my head out of the window and breathed in the salt water air. I closed my eyes and let the breeze make my hair messy. Jeremiah reached over and pulled the ponytail out of my hair. “I always liked your hair down,” he said from the driver’s side. I looked back at him and smiled, my eyes squinting too tightly from the sun coming behind him but it made his curls look blonder. The wind plastered my hair to the side of my face and I brushed it behind my ear. “Pretty,” he whispered.
“Look at the road,” I told him. He laughed and nodded, facing the road again and sitting up straighter. His hands at ten and two. In town at the store, the one that carried the good muffins, Jeremiah rushed out first telling me to stay put so he could open the door for me.
“After you,” he gestured for me to get out so I did. He let me pick out whatever ones I wanted, chocolate chip, banana nut, pistachio. I kept pointed at them behind the case and the worker behind it kept adding them to our pile.
Eventually, I turned to Jere. “What ones did you want?”
“What? All those are for you?” He gawked. I put my hand on my heart and gasped.
“Of course not, I was going to give a a couple to my parents.” Jeremiah laughed and nodded his head. He started pointing at a few to add and when he was done he put his credit card down on the counter. “I can pay for mine,” I told him, digging around in my bag for my card when Jeremiah grabbed my wrist. “I grabbed a lot.”
“I don’t care. It’s on me,” he said. “Well, actually, it’s on my dad.” He chuckled as the cashier ran his card and handed him back his card and our boxes of muffins, which I was entrusted to keep safe. They sat on my lap the whole ride home and when we finally got the kitchen, I pulled out two for my parents and the rest displayed on Susannah’s pastry display next to the fridge. She always had something in it. Right now, it was just crumbs. I was pretty sure there were cookies in there only a few days ago.
Conrad and Steven came rushing down the stairs, swarming around me and the mufins. “Give me one,” Steven cried from over my shoulder. He reached over, bumping my shoulder, and grabbed a chocolate chip.
“You’re welcome,” I teased as Steven sat at the island counter. Conrad sat next to him, his hands folded in his lap. I grabbed his favorite and set it on a napkin, sliding it over to him. “Hungry?” I asked.
Jeremiah started rummaging through the fridge as Conrad mumbled a thanks and took his muffin. "Where's Belly?" Conrad asked, looking around in the kitchen. It was just us kids. Susannah was probably still asleep upstairs. I would bet all these muffins that her door was left ajar, as it usually is, and Conrad closed it quietly before he came down so that she could sleep longer. Belly was still MIA.
"Who cares," Steven mumbled with a mouthful of muffin. Conrad didn't look up from his own food.
“Who wants eggs?” Jeremiah called from behind me. He was holding up four eggs in his two hands with a smile on his face. “Sunny side up.”
#jeremiah fisher blurb#jeremiah fisher fan fic#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher au#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher x reader#reader insert#jeremiah x reader#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x reader#the summer i turned pretty#tsitp
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━━ ★ NVGT/MASTERLIST
-> have fun !! don’t forget 2 reblog 2 support ur writers <-
-> requests are closed
reblogs & interactions are always appreciated :) feel free to leave feedback or just talk to me
this is dedicated to all the girls who think they’re not enough
| key: [ ★ ] = fan fav | f! reader |
| key: [ 🔞 ] = smut [ 💢 ] = angst [ 🌀 ] = fluff
@LONG FICS
★ Rafe Cameron
[ ★ ] Hate + approx. wc = 9.5k / estimated reading time / 20 minutes / 💢 / 🔞 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: two people hate how much they love each other
Love + approx. wc = 5k / 15 minutes / angst💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: love is a weakness, two people come to terms with how dangerous their love is, but it's impossible to leave. (part 2 of Hate)
Enough + approx. wc = 4.8k / estimated reading time / 15 minutes/ angst 💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you're still not enough
Indifference + approx. wc = 5.3k / estimated reading time / 17 minutes / 💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: there's a thin line between love and hate, but the real love killer is indifference.
★JJ Maybank
Three Seconds + approx. wc = 1.6k / estimated reading time / 5-7 minutes / angst 💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: three seconds is all it took for everything to fall apart
[ ★ ] And Yet.. + approx. wc = 3.9k / estimated reading time / 10 minutes / angst 💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: two people who shouldn't be together can't get themselves to leave (pt. 2 of three seconds)
[ ★ ] You + approx. wc = 4.3k / estimated reading time / 13 minutes / angst 💢 / happy ending / fem!reader
SUMMARY: one realizes that their person was standing right in front of them
[ ★ ] Guilty + approx. wc = 5.2k / estimated reading time / 14 minutes / 💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems
Wanted + approx. wc = 11.6k / estimated reading time / 25 minutes / 💢 / 🔞/ fem!reader
SUMMARY: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted. (PT.2 to guilty)
★John B
coming soon
★Conrad Fisher
Ghost (coming soon) + approx. wc = 7k / estimated reading time / 17 minutes / angst💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: she tries to hold onto something he gave up on (haunted coded)
Not Her (coming soon) + approx. wc = 8k / estimated reading time/ 16 minutes / angst💢 / fem!reader
SUMMARY: she was too busy looking at him to notice he was never looking at her. he loves me, but loves her more
★Jeremiah Fisher
coming soon
#obx masterlist#obx imagine#obx fanfiction#obx#outerbanks imagine#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#rafe cameron#outer banks season 3#rafe cameron angst#obx smut#john b routledge#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank#jj maybank smut#jjmaybank#jj maybank angst#outer banks angst#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron x reader#outerbanks rafe#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fanfiction#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher#conrad fisher angst#tsitp imagine#tsitp masterlist
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Any TSITP fans?
I may have had a very.... detailed dream last night... involving one jeremiah fisher....
and have 1.3k words in of writing the fic of it....
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Hi loves, I started writing a new fan fic for “the summer I turned pretty “ but through Jeremiah’ s eyes with figments of my imagination too.
If you want to read it please follow the link. Thank you.
#jeremiah fisher#gavin casalegno#jeremiah x belly#tsitpedit#thesummeriturnedprettyedit#jelly#lola tung#team jeremiah#belly conklin#belly x jeremiah#the summer i turned pretty#j
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details (a seventeen going under story)(j.f)(ch.1)
details (a seventeen going under story)
a/n: hello everyone!! i hope you all enjoy this new story. It's a continuation of seventeen going under, so if you haven't read that yet I encourage you to do so! I'm trying to follow the story line of book/season 2 but obviously, it's going to be different. Let me know what you all think!!
Susannah died at the beginning of June. The call came late one night as I was fast asleep, but Jeremiah’s empty breathing woke me up. I immediately knew something was wrong and ran next door without putting any shoes on. The boys were sitting on the couch in the dark not speaking. They looked like statues, I thought at that moment. Little wax figures forever frozen in time when their mom was still alive, but they were not. They were alive.
They both turned to look at me when the front door swung shut. Jeremiah’s eyes were puffy and red. Neither of them looked like they had gotten any sleep for days, maybe. We all knew it was coming soon - her death. She was slowly getting worse and worse, it was only a matter of time. I kissed Jeremiah in the doorway as he left for the hospital to see her. Neither of us knew it would be the last time he saw her. If I had known, I’d have kissed him a little harder.
If I had known that everything would change that night, I would have hugged him a little bit harder. I would have locked him in the house and not let him leave. I would have strapped our ankles together so that he could never leave me, but he did. He did leave me. And now, I’m sitting on the back porch watching the rain poor down flooding the grass.
“Dinner is ready,” my mom calls from inside of the kitchen. She always likes to keep the back door open when it rains. “Come inside before you get a cold.”
“It’s too warm out for me to get a cold,” I tell her once I’m inside. She pushes a plate toward me on the counter with a sad smile. She’s been pitying me for weeks it feels like. Always giving me sad smiles and hugging me for longer than normal. Shouldn’t she be the one grieving? She lost her best friend. She watched her person die right in front of her eyes and she’s the one comforting me? I pick at the chicken with my fork but don’t eat it. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat something.” My dad comes in from the other room, kissing the top of my head once before rounding the island and kissing my mom on the cheek. She leans into him and my stomach turns.
“I ate lunch.” I push the plate away. “I’m just going to go to sleep.” I can feel both of them watching me as I walk away with their sad eyes and wallowing stares. Being upstairs doesn’t make me feel much better. He’s all over the place up here. His clothes are in my closet, his shoes under my bed, and the notebook he gave me on the desk. I flip it open to the last page. Big, white, and empty. I’ve been meaning to pack up all his stuff for weeks now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. One minute I was packing for Cousins and the next Susannah is dead and Jeremiah is no longer my Jeremiah.
My phone starts to ring in my hand. I know who it is before I even look at the screen so I answer it, but I don’t speak. “Y/N,” he says softly. “I can hear you breathing.” I lay back on my bed and try to stop breathing. I hold my breath until my lungs start to burn. “Did you eat today?”
“Don’t start doing that,” I whisper.
“Doing what?”
“Talking to my mom and checking up on me. She already talks to me like she’s walking on eggshells I don’t need you to do it now, too. You’re the one grieving.” I can picture Conrad now, rolling his eyes because all he ever does is care for other people he couldn’t imagine not doing it. Not even now. “I should be asking you if you’re eating.”
“I ate a burger about 30 minutes ago. I can feel it traveling through my digestive tract as we speak,” he says. I can hear the smile on his face.
“Good.” Conrad calls me every day at the same time for the last month. Sometimes we sit in silence and sometimes we don’t but he never hangs up first. It’s been exactly 32 days since I’ve seen Jeremiah. 32 days since I have heard his voice, although Conrad’s is similar. Similar but not the same. 32 days since I have felt his hands on me and exactly 30 days since his mother’s funeral and 28 days since Susannah died. My mom keeps telling me that time heals all wounds but how can I believe her when I feel like it just keeps getting worse and worse?
“When are you coming back to visit? They’re doing prospective student tours next week. Figured you could come then and tag along.” he suggests. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the house and I think he knows that. He’s been trying to get me to visit him at school for weeks now but I keep blowing him off. I shouldn’t be, I know that but the thought of leaving the perimeter of my house feels very similar to dying.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him. “Look, I should probably-”
“Jeremiah asked about you.” We both say the same time. His words stop me in more ways then
one. I sit up and grip my phone harder. My voice stops, my breathing stops, and I’m pretty sure my heart stops.
“What did he say?” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “What did he want?”
“He asked me how you were doing,” he tells me. “He asked me if you ask about him.”
“Did you tell him that I don’t?” I don’t recognize my own voice. I keep talking about him to a minimum because when I do, it feels like my entire body is falling apart. Conrad sighs on the other side of the phone and he doesn’t reply. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him that you were.” he hesitates. “That you were you. You were okay.” I stop myself from picturing how he was doing in that house all alone. Just him and Adam. I have to stop myself because if I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. “You were going to tell me that you’re hanging up, right? Before I said that.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t hang up yet, okay?” His voice cracks so I don’t hang up. I don’t hang up for what feels like hours but we sit together all night long until eventually I fall asleep listening to him breathing.
When Susannah got really sick, the worse I’ve ever seen her, being around the house was hard. Conrad hardly seemed to be around. It was his first year at Brown, so we all let it slide when he didn’t come home on weekends or make it to her doctor’s appointments. Jeremiah or my mom always took her. Laurel came down a lot, too but Jeremiah always got the worst of it it seemed like. One day, I came over to find him with his head in a pile of bills.
“That’s not your responsibility,” I told him when he told me that he was sorting through the bills and trying to pay them off.
“It’s just one less thing she has to worry about, you know? Conrad isn’t going to do it.” His voice was tense and unlike the Jeremiah that I loved. I put my hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head.
“You have a dad,” I reminded him. He half smiled at me and took my hand off his shoulder. He held it tightly and kissed my knuckles. “Lets go get some food,” I suggested. “We can bring your mom home something.”
“Normal food makes her nauseous.” There was a lot of things Susannah couldn’t do anymore. She barely could get out of bed. It was like seeing a stranger toward the end. She still smelled the same, her smile was still the same. She said all the things that Susannah said but she wasn’t Susannah. She wasn’t dancing around the house with the radio on in her apron. She wasn’t gardening in the backyard with dirt on her cheek. She was living off of saltine crackers and chicken noodle soup.
“Then we’ll bring her back a cup of water. Come on.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the dinning room table. I felt guilty sometimes. Taking Jeremiah away from his mom like that but he didn’t deserve to sit here and grieve her before she was already gone while Conrad was off living his life. Sometimes I found him smiling. A real smile, the kind you only get when you’re really, really happy. His eyes would light up and he’d be him again. But then, everything hits him all at once and he’s sad again.
He almost didn’t even go to prom with me. We had everything planned. Susannah even picked out the corsage but at the last minute he showed up at my door crying. “How can I go out and have fun while my mom is dying?” He said through his tears. I didn’t have an answer to that so I just let him cry but the next night, he showed up in his suit and tie with the corsage in his hand and it was perfect. It felt like nothing had changed.
But of course, everything was changing.
#tsitp#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher fan fic#conrad fisher imagine#tsitp imagine#the summer i turned pretty#belly conklin#jenny han
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details (j.f)(pt.3)
a/n: hey guys, sorry it's been a minute. just trying to figure out life right now haha but it's here! sorry for the wait!!
Thanksgiving, last year
I was sitting on the couch with my feet on the coffee table and a book in my hand when Conrad walked in. He leaned against the door jam with his hands in his pocket and I’m pretty sure he was watching me for a while before finally speaking up, but when he did, he had a smile on his face. “What are you doing hiding in here?”
I held up my book for him to see the cover. I don’t think he read it, just nodded and started walking toward me. “I’m not hiding,” I said. “Just getting out of the way.” When Susannah was in the kitchen, everyone was just a waste of space. If you weren’t chopping or peeling, you had to go and I was doing neither.
“Where’s Jere? He wasn’t in the kitchen.” I close my book with a bookmark and set it aside.
“He’s probably upstairs,” I told him. Conrad lifted up my legs by my ankles and sat down next to me, putting my legs on his lap. His hands rested on my thighs. “I think he’s a little overwhelmed with everything that’s going on.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” He scoffed and I shook my head. Of course, he didn’t know what I meant because he was never around anymore. He didn’t see all the stuff that Jeremiah did every day. He wouldn’t understand.
“He’s just tired, is all. Taking care of your mom.” Conrad looked at me, his eyebrows knitted in confusion and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. “She needs a lot of help these days.”
“What do you mean? She’s in there right now cooking Thanksgiving dinner,” he said, a little laugh under his voice.
“She’s making mashed potatoes and veggies. You didn’t see Jeremiah cooking the turkey all morning and feeding her health smoothies so she’d have enough energy to even do what she’s doing,” I told him. “She’s not doing well, Con.”
“You don’t think I know that?” He whispers.
“You don’t seem to act like it.” Hurt flashes across his face. “You’re just never around anymore.” I tried to keep my tone light so maybe his feelings don’t get hurt but I can tell that they are. He opened his mouth to speak but then Jeremiah’s voice booms from behind us.
“Dinner is ready,” he said. We both turn to look at him. His blonde hair is still a curly mess but he tried today. He spent too long in the bathroom with his hair gel trying to make the curls fall in the right spot. His eyes dart between Conrad and I before they land on my legs on his lap. I shift uncomfortably, swinging my feet to the ground.
“Let’s eat,” I said, standing up and tossing my book next to Conrad. I met Jeremiah in the door, taking his outstretched hand. I can’t help but notice Jeremiah watching Conrad on our way to the dining room.
Later that night, Jeremiah told me he was going to football camp over the summer. “It’s our last summer in Cousins. With Susannah,” I said when he told me. His eyebrows crinkled and he shook his head at me.
“My mom is going to die before we can go back to Cousins. You know that.”
“Don’t say that,” I snapped but he wasn’t phased. He blinked slowly and sighed. “You don’t know that.”
“I do know that. And my dad wants me to go this year, finally. So I’m going to go.” He sounded so certain. Adam always asked Conrad to go to football camp. Conrad was always his star but now that Conrad quit, I guess Adam has no other option. I almost said this to him, just to hurt his feelings, but I didn’t. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“Why would I be happy?” I asked. “You’ll be gone for three months.”
“You supported Conrad when he went,” he spat. Always just when I think he’s over it, he throws it back in my face. Conrad. Always, always Conrad.
“I didn’t care if I saw Conrad for three months or not.” Liar. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Jeremiah stood up and ran his hand through his curls. No longer perfectly placed but a disheveled mess. “I have to go check on my mom,” he said after a minute. He turned toward the door.
“Conrad is in there with her,” I told him. After dinner, Conrad took her up to bed and has been locked in the room with her since.
“Of course you’d know that.”
“Oh, shut up!” I yelled. He turned, startled that I raised my voice. “Just stop with that.” His shoulders dropped and he crossed the room swiftly, wrapping me in his arms. I let him hug me and I hugged him back and we didn’t talk.
Conrad went home the next day. He knocked on my front door, bags in hand and dropped them on the stoop when I opened the door. “Just wanted to say bye,” he said quietly.
“I didn’t know you were leaving so soon.”
“I just-” he stopped and looked at the ground and he didn’t have to finish. I knew what he was going to say before he said it. I pulled open the door a little further, just enough for him to squeeze inside the house. He did without question.
My dad forced my mom to go Black Friday shopping with her so they’ve been gone for hours. I had the entire house to myself but I still led him upstairs. He collapsed onto my bed and covered his face in the crook of his elbow. “It’s better for both of them if you stay,” I said quietly. I always felt like I was walking on eggshells talking about Susannah when she was sick. I was always afraid of saying the wrong thing.
“I can’t see her like that,” he said. “I kept that secret to myself for too long. I can’t handle it anymore.” His voice was muffled from his arm. I sat down next to him. So close his leg was touching mine. “Plus, Jeremiah acts like he couldn’t care less whether I’m here or not.”
“That’s not true, you’re his brother.” Conrad peeks his eye out at me and I give him a look that makes him roll his eyes and cover them back up.
“What are you going to do this summer when he’s gone?” He asked, changing the subject. I shrugged which makes the bed move up and down. “Maybe I can come home for a while.”
“What are you going to do for the rest of break with no one else on campus?” I asked. It was his turn to shrug now which made me blow a laugh from my nose.
“Lots of kids stay home for break. I’ll be back for Christmas.” I picked at my nails and thought about Conrad in a knitted sweater, his hair pulled down by a beanie. He stood up then and said, “I should get going.” I nodded and stood up with him, following him downstairs back to the front door. “Call Jere,” he said as we stood on the front porch. My hand gripped the door tighter.
“I will.” He nodded and touched my wrist as a parting gesture. We no longer hug. Not since summer. I don’t close the door until his car is down the street. I pull out my phone and see three missed texts from Jeremiah.
Hey, con left
Hello???
Where are you?
I don’t call him, instead I put on my shoes and cross the lawn to his house. He’s sitting in the living room, his phone on the coffee table and the TV on quiet. He turned around at the sound of me entering and he smiled. My Jeremiah. My heart jumps at the way his eyes crinkle. “Susannah sleeping?” I asked and he nodded. I walk toward the couch to meet him and can’t help but notice the perfect view of my front porch.
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#tsitp#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher fan fic#belly conklin#jenny han
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bad in the bones (ch.10) (c.f)
a/n:
“We have to get back,” Conrad says. My dress is still soaking wet, dripping onto the cement underneath me. Conrad’s hair drips water onto my forehead and I wipe it away with the back of my head.
“Do we?” He gives me a lazy smile and extends his hand to me. “They’re going to kill us.”
“And who’s fault is that?” He tilts his head to the side and I push my wet hair out of face. His hand finds my cheek and he presses his lips against mine softly. “I’m sure there are spare clothes somewhere around here,” he says. He leads me inside of the country club and instead of going down the hall, we take the stairs up to the second floor. “I think there’s a closet somewhere in here.” He pokes around the rooms, opening and shutting door when he doesn’t find what he wants.
“We’re leaving a trail,” I laugh, looking behind us at the water drenching the carpet.
“Hold your dress up higher,” he remarks. I do what I’m told but huff at him which makes him chuckle. “Here.” He opens the door to a dressing room. In the corner there are clothes hanging up on a rack with a row of vanities in the middle. “I think this is where the girls all got ready,” he tells me. I walk toward the row of dresses hanging up. They’re not all white, but most of them are which feels tacky to wear. Like wearing white at a wedding. “What are you going to wear?” I ask as he opens a wardrobe on the other side of the room.
“The boys dressing room is a few doors down. I’ll go find something.” He pulls out a purple dress from the wardrobe and holds it out as if he’s trying to picture me in it. “Put this on. I’ll be right back.” He drapes the dress over one of the vanity chairs and then disappears out of the room. I strip out of my wet dress, leaving it in a pile on the floor and slip on the purple one. It’s silky and hugs my curves exactly where they need to be hugged. It’s a perfect fit. I brush out my hair with my fingers and fix my makeup with whatever I can find on the vanity but nothing I do is going to make me look like I didn’t just jump in the pool, but it’s better than nothing.
I wander down the hallway until I find the only door that’s cracked open. I peek inside, trying not to make a noise. Conrad is standing in front of a wardrobe similar to the one he pulled my dress out of trying to untie his tie from around his neck. “Need some help?” I ask quietly. He smiles when he sees me and nods his head. He’s still wearing his wet suit, the fabric damp under my fingertips as I undo the knot.
“That dress looks beautiful on you,” he whispers. I drop the tie to our feet and work the jacket off of his shoulders.
“Thank you,” I whisper back without looking up at him. The jacket drops to the ground and I start undoing the buttons of his shirt. “We gotta get you out of these wet clothes, huh?” I can feel his heart beating faster under my hands and he nods slowly. He dips his head so our noses touch and then we’re kissing again. My fingers stop working out the buttons and instead they’re gripping his shirt and pulling him closer to me. His hands grip my hips and we stumble backward until we hit one of the vanities, the edge of it ramming into my lower back but I don’t feel it.
Conrad lifts me up and sets me down on the vanity, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I open my mouth and let him in, his tongue taking over my own. His hands slid up my thigh and under my dress, his fingertips pressing into my skin. I don’t bother trying to undo the buttons of his shirt anymore, I just rip it open and off his body, desperate to feel his skin on mine.
Conrad pulls away from me, leaving me cold and empty. A moan escapes my lips at his absence and she smiles, tracing his thumb along my swollen bottom lip. “I don’t have anything,” he says. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head. “We should get back anyway, huh?” I ask. I think he can feel the disappointment in my voice because he kisses me once again, this time soft and sweet, and nods. “Then let’s get you changed.”
Our table is empty when we return. I stop just clear of the door and when it slams shut behind us, I feel the entire room looking at us. But they’re not really. They’re looking at our people - Belly, Jeremiah, Susannah, and Laurel. They’re all huddled in a group. Jeremiah and Belly’s backs are to us. Susannah looks like she’s crying. While my feet stay put, Conrad’s move him as fast as possible to his mom.
I can’t hear anything over the music but I can tell they’re all angry. Or sad. Conrad’s face is all scrunched up and he’s holding his hands out to his brother as if he needs to steady him but Jeremiah’s shoulders are tense. Belly’s shoulders slouch and Jeremiah yells, “you knew! You knew and you didn’t tell me!”
“Jeremiah,” Conrad says more like a warning than anything. Jeremiah’s hands are on Conrad before Conrad finishes speaking and they’re tumbling around, a mess of flailing limps. Susannah is crying and begging her boys to stop and I snap back. I was hoping I was imagining it all but the cries are real and the fists hitting faces are real.
“What is going on?” I ask Belly when I reach her side. I raise my voice above Laurel crying for the boys to stop. Jeremiah is on the ground with Conrad on top of him, trying to pin him down. Belly doesn’t speak. Her lower lip quivers and she looks like she’s going to cry but can’t do anything to stop it. I’m about to put my arm around her but then Jeremiah gets a punch in and now Conrad is on the ground and instead of my arms going to Belly, they’re reaching for Conrad.
Susannah grabs Jeremiah by his shoulders and he softens at her touch but when I grab Conrad, he jerks away from me. Our eyes meet and I can see him soften, just a little bit, but then his face goes stoic. “My mom is sick,” he says. “Her cancer is back and I knew this whole time.” I open my mouth to speak but he doesn’t let me. “Jeremiah just found out. While we were out there, in the pool making out, he found out.” He shoves a finger toward in the direction of the pool.
“I didn’t know,” I mumble, shaking my head. I reach for him instictively and he takes a step back, shaking his head at me.
“Of course you didn’t know. No one knew and he shouldn’t have had to find out like this. I should have never left with you. This was a mistake from the beginning, you even said it yourself.” I think my heart bursts inside of my chest. Cracks, actually. My heart explodes. Disintergrates. Completely combusts.
“You don’t mean that,” I whisper. I’m suddenly very, very aware of all the eyes on us. Belly’s eyes on us.
“I do.” He gives me a curt nod and then turns around and walks away.
I feel like the walls are moving further and further away from me and I’m left, all alone, in the middle of the dance floor. I feel like I did when we were in the boat, paddling through the water except I’m paddling alone and going in circles.
“You and Conrad?” It’s Belly that speaks to me first. At least, she’s the only voice I can hear. “You and fucking Conrad?” She repeats harder this time, spitting at me as she speak. I don’t want to look at her, but I do. I look at the tears in her eyes, the red flush on her cheeks, and her shaking hands.
“Belly,” I breathe. “Belly let me explain.” I start to beg her. I’m practically going to my knees but she throws her hands up and storms away.
I sat outside of Belly’s door all night. At first, I was knocking and begging for her to open it and let me talk. I begged her to listen to me. I could hear her shuffling for hours but eventually, it all went quiet and I was sure she fell asleep, but I kept whispering to her. Hoping that she would open the door. Eventually, she did. She opened the door so fast I fell backward, barely catching myself with my hands. “You’re still out here?”
“I didn’t think you’d open the door,” I told her honestly. She shrugged and opened the door further, silently inviting me in. I scrambled to my feet and went into her room and she shut the door behind me. “Thank you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked before I could finish my sentence. She crossed her arms over her chest, closing herself off to me almost completely.
“How could I?”
“You’re my cousin. My best friend,” she pleaded, dropping her arms at her side.
I stepped toward her but she stepped away so I stopped. “You could have told me.”
“You would have been upset. I didn’t want to upset you. I know how you feel about him.” I tried to quiet my voice to a whisper but Belly didn’t want to be quiet. Her voice was harsh and stern.
“I’m upset anyway. Were you ever going to tell me? Or just be with him behind my back until we went home? And then what? You’re my family but so is he.” I knew what she was insinuating. That I would leave him after summer was over and never tell her. “You should have told me.”
“You’re right.” I threw up my hands. “You’re right, I should have told you but I fell in love with him, okay? And I panicked. If I had told you and you told me not to be with him, I wouldn’t be with him and that thought alone scared me more than anything.” Belly’s face softened for a moment and I felt the breath I was holding in release itself. “I’m sorry.”
“You would have stopped if I asked you to?” She asked and I nodded. She sighed and walked over to me, plopping herself down on the bed next to me. I hesitated, but sat down too.
“Belly, you’re my family. I can’t help that we fell in love but I should have told you.” She nodded and then put her arm around me and it was over. Just like that. No yelling, no screaming. She was just my Belly again.
“I would never have told you to stop seeing him,” she whispered.
“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re over anyway,” I told her. I just kept picturing his face in my mind. The way he glared at me before leaving me all alone. “I doubt he wants anything to do with me. Besides, that’s the least of his worries right now. Me and him.”
I could see the way her face fell. I put my head on her shoulder and she put her head on mine and we sat there in silence for a long time before eventually, we fell asleep in her bed.
The sunrise woke me up the next morning. Belly was still fast asleep next to me so I slid out of her room quietly and walked down to the beach. The path to the beach is quiet and it’s not yet scorching hot out. When I reach the sand, I take my shoes off and that’s when I see him. He’s sitting in the sand leaning back on his hands and watching the waves crash. I almost turn around. I think I should turn around. But I don’t.
“Fancy meeting you out here,” I tease quietly, hoping not to startle him. He barely flinches. I stand behind him and wait for him to acknowledge me before inviting myself to join him. He waits so long to say anything I almost leave.
“You stalking me or something?” I think I feel a weight leave my shoulders when he talks. His voice no longer screams in my head in anger. “You can sit down.”
“I wasn’t sure.” I hesitate still but sit down next to him. “I don’t know what to say,” I admit. I want to put my hand on his shoulder. I want to look him in the eyes and see the same thing that I saw just yesterday at the pool but all I can do is sit as still as a statue and watch the water.
“I should apologize.”
Conrad stays quiet. I feel him breathing next to me. I know he’s thinking about what to say because his eyebrows are knitted together and he’s chewing the inside of his mouth. “I’m sorry I distracted you this weekend. I’m sorry that this was your last summer here with your family and I ruined it.” I rush out all my words before I can regret them. “I hope that you don’t regret us but we can forget this ever happened.” I stand up, shake the sand off my clothes and start to turn away.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His words shoot through me like knives. “Forget this ever happened? I love you. I can’t forget that.” I don’t turn around because I can’t look at him. I think I might break if I do. He loves me. “You didn’t ruin this summer. You made it bearable. It’s not your fault I didn’t tell Jeremiah. Please look at me,” he begs.
“I can’t look at you because if I look at you then I’m never going to leave and I have to leave,” I tell him. Laying in Belly’s bed, I made the choice to go home. It’s already set in stone in my mind and I know that if I look at him, I’m going to change my mind. “We shouldn’t be together, Con.”
“Stay as my friend,” he rushes out. “I need you.”
“I can’t just be your friend.” His hand wraps around my wrist and he spins me
around so I have to look at him. I swear there are tears in his eyes that he’s blinking away. “I can’t be your friend,” I repeat. His eyes dance from my eyes to my lips and I know he doesn’t want to be just friends.
“Why can’t we be together?”
“The same reasons that we should never have gotten together in the first place. Belly and your mom and all this shit you’re dealing with that you’re not focused on because of me.” Conrad rolls his eyes and cups my face with his hands and I can’t help but lean into him, at least just a little bit.
“I need you,” he tells me again. “Please don’t go.”
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#conrad fisher#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher imagine#conrad fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher fan fic#the summer i turned pretty#jeremiah fisher#belly conklin#tsitp#jenny han
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details (a seventeen going under story)(j.f)(ch.2)
details (a seventeen going under story)(j.f) (ch.2)
a/n: hey all! thanks for your patience with waiting for chapter two! hopefully you all enjoy it and let me know what you think or if you wanna be tagged in the next part!! I'll be working on updating my masterlist so hopefully that will be fully up to date shortly. love you all!!!
My birthday was in September. Only a few weeks after we got back from Cousins. Susannah was still as healthy as she had been all summer, so she threw the biggest party I’d ever seen her throw. It was bigger than either of the boys’ sixteenth birthday. Bigger than my sixteenth birthday. She rented an entire ballroom and hired a catering service and a DJ. It was everything that I hated but she was so happy planning it, it almost felt like her dying wish.
Jeremiah sat at the end of my bed as I riffled through my clothes trying to pick out an outfit. He wasn’t much help because he said everything I picked out looked good The third outfit that I held up was a blue dress that hit just above my knees. When he said, “you’d look beautiful in that” again, I huffed it at him. He laughed as he caught the hanger.
“What’s with the attitude?” He asked.
I stood in front of him with my hands on my hips and tilted my head to the side, “you’re supposed to help me pick an outfit and you’re not helping me by telling me everything looks good.” Jeremiah smiled at me like he always did with crooked lips and soft eyes.
“But you do look good in everything,” he said. “But maybe I’ll get a better idea if you put it on.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I rolled my eyes.
“Not a chance.” He gawked at me and grabbed my wrist, pulling me in between his legs. I let him and my arms naturally fell over his shoulders.
“Not even a small, minuscule one?”
“You know what minuscule means?” I teased him. He faked a laugh and his hands squeezed the back of my thighs. He was perfect and I kissed him making him fall back onto my bed with me on top.
I wore the blue dress to my party with a gold necklace that had the letter J hanging right right below my clavicle. Jeremiah draped it around my neck when he met me outside of the venue. His fingertips grazed my skin as he clasped it around my neck. His hands rested on my bare shoulders and he kissed my cheek and said, “forever, you’re mine.” I believed him and when we took photos together in the photo booth, he kissed my neck and I threw my head back laughing. He tucked both copies into his back pocket and when we got home later that night, he secured it into the frame of my mirror and we fell asleep tangled up together in the sheets.
Now as I stare at the photo, instead of my heart swelling with fond memories, it fills with dread. I grab it and shove it in the bag I packed for Brown. I throw it over my shoulder and head downstairs where my parents are pretending that they weren’t waiting for me to come down. I hear the shuffle of my dad grabbing his crossword puzzle book from his lap in a hurry as I round the corner. “I’m going to go see Conrad at school, okay?” I tell them.
My mom blinks at me. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I just didn’t know you and Conrad were still talking. Considering.” She shrugs loosely and gives
me a sad smile. Considering.
“Conrad and I are still friends, Mom.”
“She didn’t mean anything by it, sweetheart. How long are you planning on staying?” My dad
asks. I turn my head to look at him and he looks so eager. So hopeful.
“The weekend. I should be home by Monday.” He nods and my mom blows me a kiss. They yell at me to be careful as I leave out the front door.
Brown’s campus is even more beautiful than the way Conrad describes it on the phone. It’s a little overwhelming, if I’m being honest. I stand in front of my car watching all the students pass by me with purpose and hesitate to ask one of them for directions. That’s when I see him. Walking toward me in a striped, collared shirt with a grin plastered on his face. “There she is,” he calls. He runs toward me, closing the gap between us. His arms wrap around my waist and he spins me around a few times which makes me laugh. When I land back on my feet he says, “I feel like it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”
“It’s only been a few weeks,” I remind him.
“Feels like forever.” Conrad looks down at me and smiles. His hands grip my biceps and he pulls me in for another hug. I feel my body relax against his chest, something that my body has refused to do for the last few weeks. I try to remember the last time I saw him. I remember what he was wearing, the way his hair looked, the look on his face as I ran out of the house in tears. “I’ll show you to my dorm and then we can go get lunch,” he says and releases me.
The walk to his dorm is short but the campus is beautiful. I feel his eyes on me the entire time we’re walking. His arm brushes against mine and his eyes stare down at me willing for mine to meet them. I don’t.
His door has a blank whiteboard on it and I almost think that’s more fitting than him writing his name on it. His roommate is gone so when the door closes, we’re alone and suddenly it all feels too quiet. “How did your last chemistry test go?” I ask as I stand awkwardly in the doorway. Conrad carried my bag the entire way and it’s now lying at the foot of his bed, his hand still lingering on the straps.
He chuckles and says, “it went well, thanks for helping me study.”
“Anytime.” He smiles at me and waves me toward him. I take the few short steps across the room and he hugs me one more time, this time as tight as his arms will allow.
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#tsitp#conrad fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher fan fic#the summer i turned pretty#belly conklin#conrad fisher#jenny han
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The way I’m SCREAMING at the end of this ep pls 🤚🏼🤚🏼
#tsitp#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher fan fic#belly conklin#jenny han
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bad in the bones (c.f) (part 8)
a/n: hey guys! hope you enjoy this next part! I wanna let everyone know that I really only planned this series to be around 10 chapters, so I can’t say how many more parts are left but with that being said, I have some other things up my sleeve to keep everyone busy until season two comes out 🫣🫣🫣 lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list!
A lot of dads showed up - John, the man who had been like a father to me for most of my life up until last year when his marriage to Laurel ended more cordigally than I would have anticipated. Laurel still invited him up for the Fourth despite the fact his new girlfriend was on his arm and she couldn’t have been much older than me. She smiles and pretends it’s not crushing her soul, but I think maybe it was. At least just a little bit.
Adam showed up, too. After Susannah told everyone he wasn’t coming, Conrad seemed to be in high spirits. He was still canoolding with Nicole in the pool and helped me, Belly, and Jeremiah make pomegranate margaritas in their dad’s special blender but his smile was brighter than I had seen it all morning. When he still thought his dad wasn’t coming. Adam still strolled in, though like everyone was happy to see him. Jeremiah was the only one who smiled.
The only dad that didn’t show up was mine. Not that he was invited but I couldn’t help but think about where he was. Where my mom was. Who she was spending the holiday with. I doubt she had a homemade cake and margaritas and there probably weren’t red, white, and blue decorations surrounding her. There might be a pool. Maybe she was laying out by it and being served by someone in a fancy hotel that her new boyfriend was paying for. I didn’t really know. That’s where she was last year, anyway.
I liked her being gone, then. All my friends and I got too drunk in the backyard because there were no adults to stop us. Josh waded in the pool near the edge where I sat. His hands gripped my calves and he kissed my thighs and he mumbled how much he loved me in between kisses. Everyone was envious of us. It was obvious in the way they watched us. Josh never cared much for PDA except when he was drinking.
Last year, after spending so much time in the pool that he became a prune, he leaned over my tanning body and dripped water all over me while kissing my cheeks. He begged me to go upstairs with him and after telling him no too many times, he lifted me up bridal style and carried me up to my room while piles of water marked our path.
This year, I’m alone with a bottle of vodka resting on my stomach. I balance the neck between my two fingers and it rises and falls with my breathing. Everyone is down at the beach with the pitcher of the pomegranate margaritas that we made. Belly begged me to come, holding my hands in hers as she pleaded with me. I told her I wasn’t feeling well and she hesitated, but left me anyway.
The sun is shining through the window and I’m trying to keep my eyes closed to drown out the brightness but a shadow looms over my eyes. I opened one eye and suint at the figure hanging over me. It’s Conrad. “There you are,” he says with a laugh. His hair flops over his eyes and he’s smiling so wide I think he might swallow me whole. “I’ve been looking for you. Belly is getting totally wasted, you should see her.” I don’t laugh but I manage to muster a smile. “What’s wrong?” He asks me, his smile fading. I don’t want it to fade, I want it there plsatered between his cheeks forever.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me and grabs the bottle from me. He takes a sip and jumps over the couch. I move my legs so he doesn’t land on them and he pulls them back into his lap. “What are you doing up here?”
“It was all getting too much. Everyone is out of hand,” he tells me. He watches the alcohol swirl around in the glass bottle and he’s not looking at me but his thumb is rubbing my calf as it pushes into his thigh and then he asks me if I’m watching the fireworks tonight. “Jeremiah got some good ones to impress Dad, but I don’t even know if he’s staying.” Their dad coming was a shock to everyone, I think. Susannah told everyone this morning he wasn’t going to come but he showed up later with a six-pack of beer and Conrad’s mood visibly shifted. I didn’t ask, though.
“Why do you say that?” I ask carefully. His breath is shaky and my question wavers on thin ice. He sighs and squeezes my ankle.
“He and my mom got into it earlier. I don’t think he really had to work, I think Mom didn’t want him here,” he tells me. I tap my foot on the bottle in his hands and he looks at me. His eyes make my heart break. “I didn’t really want him here, either.”
“What about Jeremiah?”
“He was ecstatic. Bought a whole show of fireworks.” I smile at the thought but Conrad doesn’t. “So, are you coming?”
“I don’t think so.” He nods and taps his fingers on my legs. “Unless you want me to?”
“There’s a moon eclipse tonight,” he says.
“It’s called a syzygy,” I say. “When the moon, sun, and Earth align. It comes from the Greek word syzgia which means ‘yoked together’.” He smiles at me and I can feel my cheeks heat up. “I was in science club for a while,” I admit. Conrad laughs. A real laugh with his head thrown back and his face turning red and it’s contagious.
“Yoked together, huh?” He asks and I nod. “Well, yn, do you want to go see the sun, moon, and Earth be yoked together with me later?”
“What about Nicole?” I hate myself for asking but I have to know so I ask anyway.
“She doesn’t mean anything to me but I can’t wait around for you forever.” He looks at me and I know he doesn’t want to not wait for me. We look at each other and I know I should say something and tell him he doesn’t have to wait for me because I’m right here but there’s too much at stake and instead of saying what I want to say, I reach for the bottle of vodka and drink it until it’s gone and the room erupts in noise. Susannah calls for cake and Belly is at her heels like a toddler feening for sugar. “We should go out there,” he mumbles, lifting my legs off his lap and standing up. My legs slam down on the couch and I feel horrible.
I have no choice but to follow him for cake except there won’t be any cake because as I step out onto the patio, Belly skips down the stairs and trips over her own feet and knocks into Susannah and the cake goes everywhere.
Everyone rushes to Susannah's side but I’m glued in place. Mr. Fisher grabs at his wife and she pushes him off - “don’t touch me,” she yells. Everyone draws back. I can see Conrad’s shoulder tense in front of me. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She stands up, smooths down her dress, and walks passed everyone and into the house ignoring Belly’s slew of apologies.
“So I guess no cake,” Conrad mumbles. I think I’m the only one who heard him. John brings Belly inside. She’s stumbling over her feet and slurring her words and John mouths I’m sorry to me.
I don’t think Belly has ever gotten drunk before. In fact, she was always the one tellng everyone to slow down. She’d answer her phone on the first ring everytime I called and walked wherever I was. It wasn’t that big of a town and I never went very far, but one time she even had to take a bus to the party I was at. She waited for me and walked me home and made sure I didn’t stumble into the street. She provided water and Advil adn stayed with me when my mom wasn’t home. Belly was always stable. Sure. Secure. The sun that broke through my dark clouds.
It’s no surprise to me that no one is mad at her for ruining the cake. Even Susannah, who now has to buy a new cake stand, smiled and said everything was okay. No one could be mad at her even when she was a drunken mess.
She’s in her bed, a half-eaten piece of pizza on her end table and she’s fast asleep. I almost want to wake her up. Tell her that everything is okay because Susannah said so and I know she would believe me. I want to tell her that she doesn’t have to change who she is because her friends at the country club want her to. She is not fasinators and white gloves and too much blush on her cheeks. She is not a drunken mess with sand in her shoes. She is more than that.
There’s a soft knock on the door and I turn to see Conrad leaning against the door jam. He’s watching her, too. He doesn’t look at me until I speak. “Wanna go see the eclipse?” He smiles and holds out his hand for me and I take it. I check behind me one more time to make sure she’s asleep before disappearing down the hall with Conrad. Guilt rushing up my throat and I swallow it down.
He takes me back to the pier as the sun goes down. We pass the big white boat and instead of taking me sailing, he takes me to Shark Bait. “You’re gonna take this thing out?” I ask, eyeing the ores suspiciously. Conrad laughs and he helps me aboard. There’s already blankets in the boat and he opens one up to wrap it around my body. His hands linger on my arms and I swallow the guilt again.
“You’re gonna help me row, okay?”
“You don’t always have to teach me something, you know,” I whisper to him. I liked when he taught me stuff, though. I like when he’s passionate and excited and I like when he smiles with his eyes like he’s doing right now.
“To impress a girl that already knows everything, I think I do.”
“You’d be surprised at how little I really know.” Conrad licks his lips and his eyes soften and instead of kissing him like I want to do, I pull away and grab at an ore. “So, how do we do this?” He clears his throat and talks me through the steps and we row the boat out as far as he lets me. I think I could have kept going forever until we hit another piece of land where no one knows us and no one is in love with him and I can kiss him if I want to.
It starts to get really dark, especially out in the water where there are no lights besides the pier a million miles away. Conrad points to the stars and asks me what the constellations are and I tell him and then he gawks at me as if he’s never been more amazed in his life. He tells me, “I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”
And I want to say, “I love you.” But I don’t. I don’t say it and I don’t know if I love him but right now, in the dark, when I can’t really see his face clearly and his arm feels more real next to mine than it has ever felt before, I might.
We sit on the floor of the boat and lean back against the seat. Conrad’s hand finds my leg and he rests it on my thigh. His fingers rub against my skin. It’s sweet and respectful and I don’t make him stop because right now it’s just me, him, and the planets being yoked together. I turn my head to say something and Conrad turns his at the same time and the only reason I know he’s so close to me is because I can feel his breath on my lips. The tip of his nose is touching mine and when I can’t see him, it’s easier to press my lips to his and not feel guilty.
His hand finds my face in the dark and he cups my cheek. I lose myself in him. His lips, his scent, the way his hair brushes against my forehead when he presses his body closer to mine. This kiss is different. I’m not kissing him because I want to forget. I’m not kissing him because he’s here and convenient. I’m kissing him because I want to and the way that I’m feeling inside needs a way to escape and the only way they can be let out is this.
I find myself on top of him. My hands are in his hair. His hands are on my waist. He pulls away briefly and between his heavy breath he says, “are you sure?” I’m not sure what he means by that, at least not right away. I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t sure but I put myself in his shoes for a moment and maybe he doesn’t know that. I nod. “I don’t want you to be sure now and then regret it in the morning.”
“I don’t regret anything,” I say. “I don’t regret anything when it’s with you.” I mean it. I try to force him to believe me so I kiss him again and he leans into me and I know he does.
“Then what’s been the issue?” He whispers. His thumb rubs against my cheek and I lean my face into him. “You know I can’t get you out of my mind.”
“Belly,” I tell him. “She loves you and she’s my best friend.” He stiffens and maybe now he gets it. Why I said I can’t be with him. My heart races and I have to tell myself he’s not going to get up. He’s not going to leave. He’s not going to make me feel like I made a mistake. I repeat these three things in my head until he eventually speaks.
“That’s why you asked me that the first night on the beach? About her?” I nod my head and he kisses my forehead and I like us like this. “Okay,” he says. I don’t know what he means by that but I don’t care because he kisses me again and I kiss him back and he roll around on the bottom of the boat and we’re wrapped up in the blanket and each other. He strokes my head and tells me stories until I fall asleep on his chest. I don’t wake up until the sun does.
We row back to the pier and we don’t talk about last night. Not really, anyway. He smirks when he looks at me and keeps eye contact for too long but I don’t blame him because if I could, I’d capture the way he looks right now and keep it in my back pocket forever. “Are you ready to go home?” He’s leaning against the passenger side door of the car with a hesitant smile on his face.
“No, but yes.” He pushes himself off the car and kisses me. He lingers on my lips like he doesn’t want the moment to end and then he opens my door for me and drives us home. He holds my hand the whole way until we pull into the driveway. Seeing the house puts a pit in my stomach and he asks me if he can kiss me one more time before we go back to the real world and with the entire family still asleep. I say yes.
The house feels heavier now that my head is so full of secrets and I knock on Belly’s door instinctively. She opens the door with a smile on her face. It looks misplaced because she’s not supposed to be happy, she’s supposed to be hungover, and seeing her happier than I feel inside makes me feel jealous and that makes me feel selfish. “What’s wrong?” She asks. The expression on my face was probably clear: guilt and fear, but not regret. Never regret. I start to cry. I feel the tears drip down my cheeks and I try to wipe them away but Belly grabs my wrists and pulls me inside the room before I can and I sob. I collapse into her arms and I cry all over her pajama shirt and she doesn’t say anything. I can barely hear myself speaking but I know what I’m saying. Everything is wrong. Everything is wrong. Everything is wrong.
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seventeen going under (j.f)
seventeen going under: a jeremiah fisher story
AN: hey all, this is my first time writing for jeremiah and i hope you like it - please let me know what you think. like, reblog, comment, send me an ask (the inbox is open:) )
Synopsis: YN and Jeremiah Fisher were soulmates. From diapers to deb balls, they were meant to be and that was one of the only things YN was sure about. Growing up in Boston, there were rules, rules that YN had broken. Rules she hoped would not follow her to the sand beaches of Cousins but nothing stays buried forever.
catch up here
I was laying on Belly’s bed, the sheets tucked under my arms, staring at the ceiling. I was pretty sure she was asleep because her breathing was shallow and steady and her right hand was twitching next to mine. I don’t know why I even agreed to stay the night. Belly just looked so overjoyed when my mom brought up the idea at dinner last night, I don’t know how I could have said no. And then there was him.
I knocked on the wall behind me twice. The knocks were soft, maybe most people would not even have recognized them as intentional but when I heard three knocks back, I swung my legs off the bed and carefully stood up so I wouldn’t wake Belly.
In the hallway, I was able to breathe because there he was. Jeremiah. I sighed and whispered, “hey.”
“Hi,” he whispered back. “Can’t sleep?” I shook my head and leaned against Belly's bedroom door. My hands were on the knob, ready for a fast escape if I were ever to need one. Not Jeremiah though, he stood in his open doorway with nothing but a pair of sweat shorts on and messy hair.
Summer Jeremiah always made my heart grow ten sizes. Like the Grinch when he finally got a Christmas. Winter Jeremiah didn’t have any freckles on his face and his hair was darker and always pressed down with a beanie. Summer Jeremiah, well he had sun-bleached hair and waves from sea salt in his hair and his eyes always seemed to match the blue of the ocean when we were in Cousins.
He nodded his head toward the hallway behind him and I nodded back in agreeance, following him quickly down the stairs. I was light on my feet, careful to not make a sound. I could see my mom on the big lazy boy chair, reclined back with a glass of red wine in between her fingers. Susannah and Laurel were sitting on the couch, Susannah’s head on Laurel’s shoulder and they were all laughing at whatever was going on during the movie they were watching. It was an old black and white film. Something they probably have watched a million times. The music was just loud enough they couldn’t hear the back door sliding open.
I followed Jeremiah outside, through the big sliding door in the dining room. There was something about the pool at night. The way the moonlight made the water glow or how I could only see Jeremiah smile when the pool light hit him just right. I didn’t see Jeremiah’s smile, though. Not this time. This time, Conrad was sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. And he was smoking a joint.
“You really shouldn’t be smoking,” I tell him. It sounded more like a nag than anything, but I couldn’t help it. I don’t even know why I said it. I sat down on the edge of the pool as far away from Conrad as I could. Jeremiah was close on my heels, snagging a towel from one of the lounge chairs. I was only in shorts and a tank top, my usual sleep apparel and the night sky was a little chilly. Jeremiah always noticed when I had goosebumps. Before he sat down next to me, he draped the towel over my shoulders. His feet hit mine under the water.
“You said that to me last month,” Conrad droned. I looked over at him and his hard eyes were staring back at me. “Not like the moms will care.”
I supposed he was right. Rules didn’t exist in Cousins. You could eat ice cream for breakfast and stay in your pajamas all day or swim until your fingers and toes pruned up. No one ever said anything because it was summer.
During the fall and winter, my mom wouldn’t so much as let me leave the house in sweatpants. I always had a curfew and breakfast was made before I left for school every day. “Don’t forget your jacket,” she would call out before I’d leave the house.
Susannah was the same way. Always make sure the boys were getting good grades and keeping up their chances of football scholarships. Mr. Fisher rode them like crazy about football. Especially Conrad. He was good, too. He would have had a scholarship if he hadn’t quit over spring.
I heard them fighting through the backyard one night. I was outside reading a book on the back patio when I heard Mr. Fisher yelling at Conrad. It was hard to make out a lot of it, but football and are you crazy and what the hell were you thinking were all easily recognizable. I tried to focus on my book and not eavesdrop but eventually, when it went quiet, Conrad stumbled through our connecting gate and sat down next to me with a joint between his fingers. “That stuff isn’t good for you,” I told him. He told me he didn’t care and lit it anyway. I checked to make sure the lights in the house were out. “What was that about?”
“I quit football,” he told me. I had gathered that much but didn’t say anything because I didn’t want him to know how much I had heard. I just nodded my head and waited for him to keep going. “I didn’t wanna be tied down this summer.” Like Jeremiah and Steven, I thought, who both had already gotten jobs at the country club for the summer. Cousins was still two months away, but the air was getting warmer and everyone could feel the summer air already.
“Is that all?”
Conrad took a hit of his joint and then offered it to me. I shook my head and he took another one. “Yeah.” I didn’t believe him, but I let it go. I knew the Fishers sometimes better than I thought I knew my own family. We had been neighbors for as long as I could remember except for during the months of June and August when they went to Cousins beach. When I was thirteen, the beach house next to theirs went up for sale and it didn’t take much convincing for my mom to put in an offer. “I need my two best friends during the summer,” Susannah begged my mom. Laurel was her real best friend, I think even my mom knew that, but something about how Susannah smiled made you just wanna agree. So, for the last four summers, the Fishers were my summer neighbors, too.
I kicked my feet in the water of the pool and despite it being heated, when my foot was not touching Jeremiah’s, it felt cold. I glanced over at my side of the yard. The kitchen light was still on. “I should go home,” I tell the boys. Jeremiah stopped kicking his feet at my words.
“Why?” I looked over at him and then glanced at Conrad, who could not be bothered to look in our direction so I looked back at Jeremiah. There was his smile.
“Lights on. My dad is probably awake and besides, I can’t sleep in Belly’s bed. It’s a twin.” That was an excuse and I knew it. Jeremiah knew it. Conrad’s eyes finally glaring at me told me that even he knew it. “I’ll come over for breakfast, alright? We can go get the good muffins.”
I stood up, wrapping the towel tighter around my shoulders and Jeremiah was quick to stand up with me. “I’ll walk you,” he said. I started to protest when he put his hands on my shoulders, spun me around, and walked me toward the shrubs that divided our two beach houses. When Jeremiah and I were younger, we dug out a small path through the bushes. Jeremiah said that going through the front took too long so we grabbed Mr. Fisher's old weed wacker and cleared out a little path. Every year we have to cut it back a little, but every year, it’s there.
I didn’t wear my flip-flops out and hesitated before going through. There were twigs and branches and probably really sharp rocks down there that I couldn’t see that my shoes always shielded me from. “Oh, please,” Jeremiah huffed. He stepped in front of me and bent down, motioning me to jump on his back. I laughed and did as I was told, wrapping my arms around his neck. His skin was sticky with the late June heat and I couldn’t help myself but nestle my head against his blonde curls. “I would carry you across all of the trenches, my girl,” he mumbled.
My girl. My Jeremiah. Before there were summers in Cousins there was Christmas break in Boston, and Spring break in Miami, and a typical Friday evening in the basement of the Fisher house. He was my best friend before I knew what best friends were. We bathed together before it got weird and we slept in each other’s beds even after we probably shouldn’t have. I cried on his shoulder when the first boy I ever loved broke my heart and he was laughing when I realized the first boy I ever loved was him.
When we got to my patio, he set me down. The pavement was dry unlike the Fisher’s, where someone was swimming at all times. It seemed like the ground was never dry over there. “Thank you,” I told him. He smiled and sandwiched my head between his hands, kissing my forehead. I wanted to swat him away because I probably had sticky skin, too, but I didn’t.
“Can I come in?” He asked. I gently shook my head, even though I wanted to say yes.
“If my dad is awake, you probably shouldn’t.” My dad only had one rule. No Boys. That included Jeremiah and Conrad and even Belly’s brother, Steven. Especially no boys with the door shut or past 9pm. Sneaking in was Jeremiah’s MO, though. When he was ten, he learned to climb the trellis outside of my bedroom window and I learned to leave the window unlocked. There were countless late-night show binges and movie marathons that ended in me falling asleep on Jeremiah’s shoulder and him waking me up right before the sun rose so he could sneak back out.
He nodded his head as if he understood. “Okay,” he mumbled. I nodded my head as best as I could with his hands still on my face. They were a little more relaxed, his wrists resting on my shoulders and his thumb grazing my jawline. “Muffins?” I nodded and I could have sworn he thought about kissing me.
“Goodnight,” I told him, slowly backing away from him. He released me and his hands dropped to his sides. He was smiling softly as I backed away, grabbing the door handle from behind me. I didn’t want to break eye contact. It was like a sick game of you hang up first because neither of us wanted to leave. At least, that’s what I told myself. Eventually, I opened the door quietly and slipped into the softly lit kitchen and I had to force myself to not look back at him.
The back door was unlocked, something that my parents started doing when I was allowed to stay at the Fisher’s later than my mom did. My dad was sitting in the living room with a book in his lap. The only light was from the oven stovetop and the lamp next to him. I wanted to sneak in behind him and go upstairs without seeing him but I cleared my throat, causing him to turn around.
“Hey, honey.” My dad put the book down, keeping his place with his index finger. “You’re home late. Your mom still there?” I nodded my head and picked at the loose thread hanging off from the couch cushion.
“I couldn’t sleep. Mom should be home soon, I think. I didn’t tell her I was leaving.” He nodded and shifted in his seat. “I should go to bed.” He nodded and I felt his eyes watching me the entire time I trod up the stairs.
On my fifteenth birthday, I was dumped for the first time. His name was Elijah Willis. He was my first kiss, my first boyfriend, the first boy who told me he loved me. I loved him, too, while it lasted. The way his hands gently cupped my cheeks will forever be burned into my skin. He had always seemed too perfect, holding open my door, always calling at 9 pm sharp, always getting me a snack from the gas station even though I said I didn’t want anything.
He was perfect. Until he came to my birthday party late, a single tulip in hand that I was pretty sure he picked from the neighbor's lawn. That’s not what I noticed, though. I noticed his messed-up hair and tired, sad eyes.
We were all outside, trying to get the last taste of warmth. I was starting to feel October on my fingertips. “You’re late,” I said.
“Can we talk?” He asked, glancing around at all my friends that stared back at him like he was a fish out of water. They all had wondered where he was. I even heard Melanie and Jaz whispering to each other by the fire about how this is how it ends.
“You wanna show up to my birthday late? And then ask me If I wanna talk?” I felt my cheeks go hot. My legs turned to jello. “No. I don’t wanna talk,” I hissed. I put the words talk in quotations using my fingers and Elijah looked taken back. Eventually, we did talk. Well, he talked. He told me about how while I was in Cousins over the summer, he was hooking up with some girl from his art class and decided it was just time to end this thing with us. Those were his words, not mine.
I didn’t go back to the party. Instead, I went upstairs and cried into my pillow until Jeremiah found me. I forgot he had been downstairs, witnessing the whole thing. I bet he even watched through the window as Elijah told me about her, watching every expression my face made. I bet everyone did.
I had my head buried in my pillow and the only reason I knew it was Jeremiah that was in my room was because he smelled like sandalwood and mint. He tugged at the end of my pillow. “Pretty girls don’t cry,” he said in a sad attempt for a joke.
“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to,” I tried to tease back but it came out all too quickly and I just cried harder. Jeremiah grabbed me then, pulling me into his chest. I stopped crying when I saw his hand. “What happened?” His knuckles weren’t red like that before. He had white gauze wrapped around them but I could see the blood seeping through. “What did you do?” I looked up at his face. A huge red circle right in the center of his cheek. Like he was wearing blush, but cooler.
“You should see the other guy.” The other guy is Elijah, I assumed. How could I be mad? Not at Jeremiah. I didn’t smile or laugh at his joke or even start crying again. I just settled into his chest as he settled into my bed and he held me like that for as long as I needed him to. And after I no longer it, he delivered me ice cream and packs of Twizzlers until my teeth felt like they were rotting out of my head but eventually, I felt better.
Now, at seventeen, that memory is not jaded with Elijah and his summer fling. I do not think about the boy who broke my heart. That memory is categorized as The Moment I Knew I Loved Jeremiah Fisher.
As I threw my hair back in a loose pony, just enough to get it out of my face, my dad called for me from the bottom of the stairs. “Y/N! Jeremiah is here!” I slipped on my shoes and ran out the door as fast as I could. Jeremiah was standing in the doorway, his hands shoved in his shorts pockets. He had a goofy grin on his face. “Where are you two off to so early?” My dad asked as I descended the stairs, my flip-flops marking every step.
“Muffins,” Jeremiah turned his grin to my dad. “Want us to bring you and Mary some?” My dad pondered before taking Jeremiah up on his offer. “Will do, sir.” My dad curtly nodded and then left the foyer, off toward the living room. My mom must still be sleeping. I didn’t hear her come in last night from my bedroom, so I don’t know how late she was out.
“Ready?” I asked as I grabbed my bag from the table next to the door. Jeremiah bumped out his arm toward me for me to wrap my arm around, so I did. We walked, linked arms, to his red Jeep. He loved that Jeep. I loved that Jeep. We had some of our best memories in that car. He even taught me how to drive a stick in it.
“You have to keep your foot on the clutch and let it off slowly,” he tried to explain. I shook my head, frustrated that the car kept stalling but Jeremiah just laughed every time. “You’re gonna get it, trust me. It’s easier to learn manual if you do this first.”
“I don’t wanna do this first!” I exclaimed, hitting my palms on the steering wheel. Jeremiah was a few months older than me so he took his test on his sixteenth birthday. He wanted me to do the same, so we practiced and practiced all spring and summer so that when September rolled around, I would be ready.
“I did and I’m an amazing driver,” he gleamed. I glared at him. It must have been fierce because he recoiled in the passenger side seat. “Fine, fine. We’ll switch to my mom's car.”
“No. No. I wanna do it.” That was one of my biggest flaws, I always thought. Once I set my mind to something, I was determined to finish it. Whether I wanted to or not. “Tell me again.”
So he told me. Again and again until finally, one very hot August night, I did it. Jeremiah cheered when the car took off without stalling. He threw his arms out of the window and yelled at the top of his lungs, “my girl did it!”
I drove us anywhere and everywhere that night. To our favorite ice cream spot in downtown Boston where I had to parallel park for the first time but my confidence was boosted, so I was so certain I could do it. Jeremiah walked me through it but when I got out to inspect my work, the car was on an angle and the wheels weren’t straight. “At least you’re not in the street,” Jeremiah said, shrugging his shoulders before he switched sides with me and fixed the park job.
We walked down the busy street until we saw the big neon OPEN sign in the window and mint green table and chairs out front and Jeremiah held open the door for me. He paid for our ice cream even though I got a double scoop with sprinkles. We walked further down the street until we reached the park we played at when we were kids and we sat on the bench, Jeremiah sneaking licks of my ice cream even though I told him no. I took my cone and tapped his nose with it, leaving a tiny dot of vanilla on the tip. He tried to lick it off with his tongue, but it didn’t reach. “Get it for me?” He asked with his puppy dog eyes.
I wiped it off with my index finger and before I could wipe it away on Jeremiah’s shorts, he grabbed my wrist and brought it to his mouth, sucking the ice cream off. He didn’t break eye contact with me the entire time and when I cleared my throat and turned away, he shot up and grabbed my hand and we walked back the way we came.
I drove out of downtown and to the side streets. The ones that Jeremiah had driven me
down multiple times before, always letting me pick the CD but this time, I let him pick. He picked The Beatles and he silently sang to me as I drove. Eventually, the sun came up and since it was still late August, the moms were in the summertime spirit and even my mom was stumbling back home through the front yard when I parked the car.
I hung my head out of the window and breathed in the salt water air. I closed my eyes and let the breeze make my hair messy. Jeremiah reached over and pulled the ponytail out of my hair. “I always liked your hair down,” he said from the driver’s side. I looked back at him and smiled, my eyes squinting too tightly from the sun coming behind him but it made his curls look blonder. The wind plastered my hair to the side of my face and I brushed it behind my ear. “Pretty,” he whispered.
“Look at the road,” I told him. He laughed and nodded, facing the road again and sitting up straighter. His hands at ten and two. In town at the store, the one that carried the good muffins, Jeremiah rushed out first telling me to stay put so he could open the door for me.
“After you,” he gestured for me to get out so I did. He let me pick out whatever ones I wanted, chocolate chip, banana nut, pistachio. I kept pointed at them behind the case and the worker behind it kept adding them to our pile.
Eventually, I turned to Jere. “What ones did you want?”
“What? All those are for you?” He gawked. I put my hand on my heart and gasped.
“Of course not, I was going to give a a couple to my parents.” Jeremiah laughed and nodded his head. He started pointing at a few to add and when he was done he put his credit card down on the counter. “I can pay for mine,” I told him, digging around in my bag for my card when Jeremiah grabbed my wrist. “I grabbed a lot.”
“I don’t care. It’s on me,” he said. “Well, actually, it’s on my dad.” He chuckled as the cashier ran his card and handed him back his card and our boxes of muffins, which I was entrusted to keep safe. They sat on my lap the whole ride home and when we finally got the kitchen, I pulled out two for my parents and the rest displayed on Susannah’s pastry display next to the fridge. She always had something in it. Right now, it was just crumbs. I was pretty sure there were cookies in there only a few days ago.
Conrad and Steven came rushing down the stairs, swarming around me and the mufins. “Give me one,” Steven cried from over my shoulder. He reached over, bumping my shoulder, and grabbed a chocolate chip.
“You’re welcome,” I teased as Steven sat at the island counter. Conrad sat next to him, his hands folded in his lap. I grabbed his favorite and set it on a napkin, sliding it over to him. “Hungry?” I asked.
Jeremiah started rummaging through the fridge as Conrad mumbled a thanks and took his muffin. “Who wants eggs?” Jeremiah called, holding up four eggs in his two hands with a smile on his face. “Sunny side up.”
#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty#jeremiah fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher fanfic#conrad fisher x reader#conrad fisher imagine#tsitp imagine#belly conklin#tsitp one shot#tsitp conrad#tsitpedit#tsitp jeremiah#jenny han#jeremiah fisher fan fic#team jeremiah
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ThE NEW EPISODE im screaming
#tsitp#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher fan fic#gavin casalegno#christopher briney
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seventeen going under (j.f) (chap. 20)
seventeen going under (j.f)
a/n: this is the second to last chapter *internally crying* 😩😩 I'm so happy to have shared this with you all and am so grateful for everyone who has loved it as much as i have and i hope to continue to share more stories with you in the future - let me know if you'd like to be notified for the final part and don't be shy to leave your thoughts below 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
catch up here
I snuck into Belly’s room late. It was still raining out. It wasn’t a downpour like yesterday but it was still enough that it made my hair wet as I walked over to the house next door and I could hear the rain hitting the cement when I went inside. The entire house was dark and I was pretty sure everyone was asleep. There wasn’t a single sound in the house except for the faint noise of the TV in the living room. The light was off but the screen illuminated Susannah’s sleeping body. I tip-toed up the stairs quietly and passed Jeremiah’s room and into Belly’s. She was asleep but her eyes fluttered when I crawled into bed next to her.
“Yn?” She asked. Her voice was raspy and full of sleep and she barely could open her eyes to look at me but she still smiled when she saw me. “What are you doing here?”
“I just missed you. I’m sorry about the ball and Susannah,” I said. Belly rolled over on her back, just as I was laying, and sighed. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.” I realized, while everyone was mad at me and the world was dark, that I had also lied to her. It wasn’t just Jeremiah I hurt, it was Belly, too.
“Conrad made you promise, didn’t he?” I nodded but remembered she probably could see me so I said yes out loud. “That’s why he was being weird all summer, right?” I said yes again. She was quiet.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered. I thought that was the right thing to say. It seemed like the right thing to say. I could feel the pillow case was wet under my face from her crying and I could only imagine how devastated she was when she found out. How a life without Susannah was probably just as bad for her as it was for the boys. It might not be okay but maybe it made her feel better for the time being.
“I hope so,” she whispered back. We laid together in silence until her breathing got steady and I was pretty sure she was asleep. I reached my hand over the headboard and knocked three times. I waited for a reply and didn’t hear anything so I knocked one more time. Before I could knock for the third time, I heard three coming from the other side. My heart skipped and I rolled out of her bed quietly. When I opened the door, no one was there. Then, his door cracked open. He had bags under his eyes and disheveled hair. That was what my eyes saw first but then they trailed down to his shirtless torso and defined muscles. He was here.
“Jere.” It was all I could muster. My throat was tight and dry. He reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me into his bedroom without saying a word. I was engulfed by his scent. His arms were like a weighted blanket around my body, keeping me grounded to the Earth like a force stronger than gravity. His breath tickled my ear and I nuzzled my face into his neck. He felt like home. “I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head and his hair tickled my nose. “I should have called,” he said. That was so like Jeremiah to apologize when he wasn’t in the wrong. I reluctantly pulled away from him. I wanted to take a picture of him and keep this image of him in my pocket forever. He reached out for me again. Grabbed at any part of my flesh he could hold on to.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry about Susannah.” My voice felt frantic. In the moonlit bedroom, everything felt surreal. As if we were in a movie and the only ending possible was a happy one but this was real life and I didn’t know if that was possible here. I looked at him and thought maybe it was. I let myself believe that it was possible but when the sun came up, I knew it would be different.
His fingers looped around mine and he pulled me to his bed and into his lap. He kissed my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his neck and nothing has ever felt this normal. Our bodies were made to sit like this together. “You’ve known since Spring?” He eventually croaked out. His fingers were combing through my still damp hair and I felt his urge to cry. His voice sounded hoarse from either crying or not speaking for a while. He didn’t sound himself. I wonder how much of him had washed away with the salt in his tears. I nodded. We stared at our bony knees. 4 little rocks in a row. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Conrad asked me not to.”
“So you’re loyal to him then?” He looked up at me through his lashes. I wrapped a curl around my finger to tell him I loved him.
“No that’s not-“ I stopped. I didn’t know what to say. Of course I was loyal to Conrad, he was my friend. My family. He made me promise and I had to keep it no matter how many times I wanted to break it. “I wanted to tell you but he asked me not to. I almost told you so many times but I was mad at you when I promised him. I’m sorry.” I didn’t know if my excuses were registering in his brain. If they’d make it better. There was no solid excuse or reason for me to lie to him that way. I kept a life changing thing from him and I deserved to feel every ounce of his pain.
“You were mad about Vivian,” he clarified. I nodded. “So you promised him you’d lie to me for an unknown amount of time and then lost your virginity to him?” His voice was not malicious. There was no anger or spite in his words. He asked me as if he was asking so I take a left at this light and then go straight until I see the Denny’s?
“Well when you say it like that,” I mumbled and shifted my legs in his lap. His body this close to mine felt sticky and hot but he squeezed his arms around my waist three times to tell me he loved me.
“Like what? That’s what happened.”
“Yeah. I guess so. We were both upset.”
“I never had sex with Vivian,” he told me.
“But you had sex with other people. I wasn’t your first and you weren’t mine. What’s the difference? I don’t know every girl you’ve fucked.” He held his breath and we looked at each other for a few moments.
In the distance between our faces was all the words we had never said. I have loved you from the beginning. Every birthday, I wished for you. Every shooting star had your name written on it and every four leaf clover was found in your garden. I need you. You are my forever.
“Macy Witnall. Sophomore year. She was in my English class and I needed help with an essay and you were too busy doing math with Conrad that I asked her instead. She wore too much perfume and despite not having big boobs, she wore an insanely tight shirt that showed too much cleavage. She kissed me and kissed me until we didn’t have any clothes on and I had sex with her on her basement couch. I lost it to her. Macy. Last year I had sex with Luisa Pilman in her bedroom. We had been talking for a little while and I liked the way she smiled and laughed at all my jokes. I only kissed Vivian because I was drunk and she was there. It could have been anyone. I wanted it to be you. I know that doesn’t mean anything now and didn’t mean anything then, either but I need you to know it has always been you.” I was holding my breath the entire time he spoke. It all came out like word vomit but it was calculated and careful. Like a speech he wrote in advance but I knew he didn’t. He waited for me to speak and when I didn’t he said, “so you’re right. You were allowed to have sex with other people but why did it have to be my brother?”
“Were?” I asked. “I was allowed?”
“I always felt like you were mine. Like you belonged to me even though you didn’t. So yeah, you were allowed to do whatever you want but now you really are mine. Okay? You’re my girl. Is that okay?”
I bent down and kissed his forehead and then his cheekbone. He scratched at the skin on my lower back. I kissed his jawline. He kissed my shoulder and I wanted to nod but I didn’t. I was quiet until I wasn’t.
“What about Conrad?” I asked. He pulled back and his face fell. The hope that was in it moments ago was now gone. Wrong thing to say, I thought. “I just mean, are you going to be able to get over it? Are you two going to be okay?” Is he going to be able to get over me? I wanted to ask.
“We’re brothers. We’ll get through it.” I nodded. “Are you sure that’s the only thing holding you back from answering me? I’m willing to forgive you here. Willing to let it all go just to move forward.”
“Is that all this conversation is? Just a way to get through it?” For some reason, it felt like he cared less. I was thinking he’d come over here and scream and yell and we would fight until our throats were sore but we’d end it in a mess of limbs and sweat and love. This felt less passionate and I didn’t know why it felt less real.
“Yn. I love you. You’re my best friend. I don’t want to fight with you and if all we have to do to be happy is to move past this. Put it in the rearview and keep going forward. That’s what I’m willing to do.”
+
Mom asked if I wanted to leave Cousin’s early. Go home a few weeks in advance and get ready for my senior year and forget about Jeremiah. She said the last part without really saying the last part. We can get the Fisher’s house in order. To surprise Susannah. We can go school supply shopping and get you a new wardrobe and stay up too late eating pizza. All these things lacked him.
I told her no, for a while. Until Jeremiah didn't call me the next day, I didn't bother to call him, and I was just floating in the gutter with all the rainwater. I cried all the tears in my body before I told her: "okay, let's go."
The house in Boston always smelled musty when we returned. Too much stagnant air and not enough circulation. Everything needed to be washed and scrubbed and dusted and it didn’t smell like home. My room was cold and the globe on my desk had dust collecting on South Africa. I wiped it away.
When my bed was warm and clean and smelled like our detergent, I curled into my bed. Cousins was home, too. The ocean waves put me to sleep and the smell of fresh toast in the morning but there was nothing compared to this home. The scratches in the doorframe of the boys and me getting taller, marking the time we all hit puberty and when Jeremiah lost his first tooth.
This home had all the memories in it. He attached all the birthday cards and notes he attached to the pints of ice cream he delivered. All the stuffed animals he’s given me that live on the shelf in my closet. I reached up and grabbed a little brown bear sitting right in front. I dug around inside his stuffing until I felt the corners of a folded-up piece of paper. It was crumbled and old but I kept it inside of the bear for safekeeping. I unfolded it carefully and read the scribbled handwriting. He was maybe 14 when he wrote this. His handwriting was sloppy and overused and he never dotted his “I”s.
Yn,
I hope you like this bear I found at the flea market. Mom said you would. I found some fleece at the flea market, too and I made my mom show me how to sew and made it into a heart using some of his stuffing. I put it inside the bear. It’s yours now. Always and forever.
Jeremiah
I felt around for the heart inside of the bear, found it, and pulled it out. It was a piece of red fleece about the size of a quarter stitched together in the shape of a heart. The edges where it was sewn are now frayed and it lost all its plumpness as if it was deflated. It had no more love to give. I squeezed it in my fingers and then kissed it three times. Whenever I missed Jeremiah, this was my ritual. I imagined him asking Susannah if she could teach him to sew as he fondled the fleece at the flea market. Little Jeremiah, looking up at his mom with such hope. It was an innocent love that I bet Susannah could see would one day be more. So she agreed and I imagined her smiling and nodding and taking it home with them. She treated the fabric with love as she showed him how to sketch out the shape, connect the edges, and stuff it full. I imagined him kissing the heart and pressing it to his and then putting it inside the bear. That thought kept me going in the dark nights when he was gone.
Susannah left a spare key under the mat of the back door in case of emergencies. I wouldn’t call breaking in to clean the house an emergency, but my mom disagreed. “The key has been used for worse things, have they not?” She asked, eyeing me knowingly. If using the key to sneak into Jeremiah’s room late at night or to get back inside way after curfew and long after Susannah locked the boys out worse, then yes. It had been used for worse things.
Her house held the same musty smell as ours did and as Mom let all the light in from the outside, I pulled out all of the lemon-scented cleaners. Eventually, the house stopped smelling like a damp, dark, abandoned place, and started to smell like Susannah again. Despite her being gone, her room still had a hint of her in the linens. Once thoroughly washed, it was like she had never left. I was putting Jeremiah’s room back together when the sun started to go down. The laundry had taken all day and now I was struggling with the warm fitted sheet over his mattress.
I pulled one side over the left top corner and the bottom right would pop off. Eventually, I pulled the mattress up completely in frustration and tried it that way. Under his mattress, on top of the box spring right on the edge, was a small composition notebook with the words to the girl I love scribbled on the white box on the front. I grabbed it and dropped the mattress, all four corners of the sheet snapping to the middle.
My heart started to pound. His handwriting looked old and young like he had written it long ago. The edges of the notebook were bent, certain pages were bookmarked with the fold of a page and it looked like it had been under the bed for a while. Jeremiah wasn’t a writer. He never expressed any interest in it. He didn’t even like English class but when I flipped through the notebook, every page was covered with words and photographs and candy wrappers at the top of the very first page was my name. I should have shut the notebook and put it back but my eyes couldn’t move away from the words he had written. The first page was dated 2015. We were ten years old, and you could tell how young he was in his handwriting. He was misspelling words and the pencil marks were smeared all over the page. My hands started to shake and my heart was beating faster and faster and faster until I had to sit down.
The first page had a tootsie roll wrapper taped in the corner and he wrote about our Halloween that year. He went as a cowboy and I just threw on a pair of cat ears and wore all black but we still trick or treated around the neighborhood. We always dumped everything out onto the floor and picked out what our favorites were and divided everything. Jeremiah always let me have more but we fought over the tootsie rolls. He let me have the last one.
I flipped the page and every single page had an anecdote about our friendship. The time he forced me to jump into the pool for the first time at school because I was too scared. That Thanksgiving when I told Susannah I would help make the turkey and I told her I had it and I didn’t and it fell onto the floor and we jumped into a pile of leaves later that afternoon. Straw wrappers from when we shared milkshakes at the diner a few blocks away and the receipt from every time we got ice cream. I always wondered why he grabbed those. From 2015 to 2020, half of the notebook was filled. Every page. Photos of us that our moms took were tacked in the corners and he wrote a description on each and every one of them. 2016 - look how pretty your eyes are. 2018 - I love how you’re smiling in this one. Like you’ve never been happier. You make me so happy. 2020 - Happy New Year’s, yn. My resolution is you.
The next page was dated on my fifteenth birthday. The day I was dumped for the first time. The day that I knew I loved Jeremiah Fisher. He wrote: Elijah broke up with you today. How could he do that? Look at how beautiful you were. I punched him in the face and I don’t know why. I was just so mad and it was my first instinct but caring for you was my second. He left you but I never will, okay? This is my promise to you. I will love you until the end of time.
I shut the notebook and held it in my lap. What was this? I turned it around in my hands. There was nothing written on the back but he had left it here. There weren’t any notes written during the summer months. Sometimes he would write when we got back and detail important things but he never brought it with him. I flipped back open the notebook to the last page written.
Yn, I have written a hundred letters to you in this notebook but for some reason, this feels like my most important. I even opened up a dictionary to look for words to make me sound more impressive because as you know, words are not my strong suit. I am not a lyrical (nice one, huh?) guy. I don’t express my emotions the right way, if ever, but I have to get this down. You need to know. The date right now is June 2nd, 2022. We’re leaving for Cousin’s today and I think you’re still mad at me.
I turned a few pages back to the one he wrote about our fight about Vivian. It was a long string of apologies and begging that I would never see. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I love you. I meant what I said I don’t know why I did that. Fuck I’m so stupid, I love you. I love you. I love you. I flipped back to the last page.
I hope you’re not mad at me because I can’t apologize anymore. The words just dry up every time because I know it’s not enough. I need a tangible (!!!) piece of evidence that I loved you this summer. I loved you the summer before and the summer before that and all the seasons in between. When the leaves were falling, I wanted to pick them up into a bouquet for you and when the snow was falling I wanted to collect the flakes into a globe. When the spring brings nothing but rain showers, I want to dance with you in the storm because with you, I can withstand (good right?) any weather. Just know, if the universe decides you and I are not meant to be, I will love you until my last dying breath. If the stars do not align and the world does not seize (my mom helped me with that one) to spin if you and I have to part, know you will forever be in my heart.
Who knows maybe one day I will give this to you. When we’re old and wrinkly and in love, I can give this to you and say, “see! I have loved you longer than you’ve loved me!” And we’ll fight about it and you’ll say, “no you have not!” And then I’ll have this proof. Where’s yours?
Forever yours,
Jeremiah
There was a photo of us taped to the bottom. One he took while we packed really late at night in his bedroom. I looked exhausted but in love. I loved him in that moment and every moment before and every moment after.
My fingers were trembling. I didn’t even realize until his name was shaking and blurry from the tears forming in my eyes. I closed the notebook and put it back where I found it. I made the bed like I was never there and closed the door behind me.
His tangible evidence. The irrevocable proof that he loved me was sitting under his bed collecting dust. Where’s yours? I had nothing. I had no proof. I barely had the words to tell him. Even when words are flying all around my head, I can’t seem to catch one. None of them seemed to be the right ones.
I left Cousins like a coward. It was probably the last summer we all would be together and I left without saying a word. Mom told me I’d regret it if I didn't say goodbye but I didn’t do it anyway. What was there to regret? I’d see Jeremiah and Conrad when they got home. I missed Belly, though. I wished I had said goodbye to her.
Conrad caught me before I left as I threw my suitcase in the trunk. I could barely zip it up so Dad grabbed a bungee cord out of the garage and strapped it close. I don’t know how I got it to close back home and I didn’t buy much while I was here that wasn’t staying here but it was still bulging open.
“Need some help?” I turned around as the suitcase landed with a thunk. He was smiling, despite everything. I hadn’t seen him in three days since the debutante ball and here he was, smiling at me.
“No, I’m okay.”
“You’re leaving,” he observed. I nodded my head. “Were you going to say bye?”
“No,” I told him honestly. His smile faded and he nodded solemnly, looking down at his feet. His right eye was bruised a light purple shade. It was the only difference in his face. “I didn’t think you guys wanted me to.” I was the Cousin’s pariah this week. No one wanted to talk to me. I never received any texts from the girls. Even Belly and Steven had been keeping their distance because how could I have hurt Jeremiah Fisher that way. “Besides, I’ll see you guys back home.”
“It’s not the same,” he said. We had a tradition every summer to end it on the beach. We spent the entire day, no matter what, at the beach in our swimsuits and we didn’t leave until the sun came back up the next day. It was our way to savor the last bit of heat. To soak up the last bit of sun. To drown in the last bit of ocean. Now, it would just be the four of them. “Have you talked to him?”
“Jere?” I was surprised he asked me this. I wondered what happened between them behind closed doors. After Susannah went to sleep and she was no longer the elephant in the room. Did they hash it out once the dust settled? Did they flip a coin and whoever won got me forever? Or did their resentment linger in the unspoken words between them until it was too much to bear.
“Yeah,” I said. “A little.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did he say? Are you two together?” I furrowed my eyebrows and Dad came out of the house. We both looked in his direction and he offered an apology before turning back into the house. I used this interruption to turn around and close the trunk, moving toward the backseat of the car and ignoring Conrad’s question. “Yn, you can tell me.”
I looked over at him and sighed. “No,” I whispered. His face didn’t light up like I thought it would have but he did smile a little. He stepped closer. “We’re going to wait until we’re back in Boston. When everything settles down. When Susannah isn’t sick anymore.”
“She’ll always be sick until she’s gone.” His words are true and hurtful and sharp. They pierce me deeper than I thought they could and I sucked in a breath. “Why wait? If you love each other.”
I didn’t have an answer for that. I guess, realistically, we didn’t need to wait. But the universe always seemed to come between us and if that was the case, was it really meant to be? “What are you trying to do?” I snapped. “He’s your brother.”
“Yeah. He is my brother. You seem to remind me of that quite often for someone who seemed to have forgotten it when it really mattered.” I threw my hands up, stumbling backward until there was enough distance between us to be able to breathe again. Conrad reached out for me and I let him take my hands and steady me. “I didn’t come here to argue,” he said.
“Then why did you come here?”
“I came here to tell you that I’m backing off.” That was the last thing I expected him to say. Conrad Fisher was not the type of guy to steal a girl from his brother but he also was not the type of guy to back down when he really wanted something. I guess loyalty won out this time. “You two,” he paused and took a deep breath, “the love you two have is something I have always craved and it’s something I think I’ve always been jealous of. I wanted it to be me so bad but it was always him. You’re right.”
He held up my hands and kissed my knuckles gently. “You’re going to find someone,” I said. It was all I could think to say because no words were coming to me.
“You don’t get it, do you? Jeremiah has never loved another girl. He probably tried. He probably really tried but he has always loved you. The sun rises in his world for you and it sets for you and it spins for you. I think the same is true for him in your world. It’s okay if you can’t love me that way. It’s okay if you don’t want to. Just promise me that you will take care of my brother because I will make sure he takes care of you.” He dropped my hands and caressed my cheek but I didn’t feel the need to back away. I let him touch me for probably the last time. I let him do what he pleased. If the Earth was made just for me, it wouldn’t spin around the sun, it would orbit around Jeremiah’s smile.
I wanted to offer him some sort of solace. Something that could make his heart mend a little so I could no longer hear it cracking under his chest. “You’re my best friend, too, you know?” Crack. Crack. Crack. “You’re just as important to me as he is. The lines just got blurry, I don’t know.” He shook his head and cupped my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I was crying. I felt the water pool around his fingers.
“I’m not going anywhere. We need each other.”
We needed each other. I needed the Fisher’s like I needed air to breathe and water to live. Conrad stared at me like he needed me, too.
I was upstairs in my room when I heard the car pull up outside. Susannah’s car was now in her empty driveway and everyone piled out and scurried across the lawn like bed bugs. I watched them as Conrad helped get the suitcases out of the trunk and Jeremiah held the door open for Susannah. They were in and out until the driveway had no more evidence of them coming home besides the white car. Jeremiah looked up to my window before he shut the front door for good.
Downstairs, Mom was making muffins. The smell of bananas filled the entire house. When I asked her what she was doing she said “I’m going to bring them to Susannah’s later, wanna come?” She knew the answer before I shook my head. “You should come to see the boys. I bet they miss you.”
“Mom,” I started, “have you ever had to pick? Between two boys?” She set the spatula in her hands down. The wooden handle was covered in batter from her hands. They were messy and sticky so she used the back of her wrist to itch her nose.
“I don’t think I have, no,” she said. “But then again, there wasn’t ever a choice with your dad.”
“How did you know?” I thought for a second that if I had to ask that question then maybe I already knew the answer but I had to ask her anyway.
“I guess it just always felt right,” she told me. She could see the disappointment on my face from her answer. The sunken shame in my eyes for not just knowing. “But it’s okay to doubt yourself sometimes. To doubt if you’re making the right choice. You’ll always wonder what if.” I wanted to ask her if she ever had a what if. Someone that came into her life after she met Dad and made her question things but I had a feeling she would tell me no. “I think you know what the right choice is and you being confused and questioning and making mistakes is just your brain’s way of stalling because you’re scared.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. She went back to mixing the muffin batter and I picked at one of the ones already baked. They were warm and buttery and tasted like bananas. They were perfect.
“You’ll make the right choice. Just listen.” She patted at her chest where her heart was caged by her ribs. Just listen. I closed my eyes and tried to listen. I heard Jeremiah’s voice. His laugh when he thought something was really, truly funny and then his laugh when he tried too hard and didn’t really think what was said was that funny. I saw his eyes and his hair and felt his hands on my body. I listened and listened until I heard him say I love you. I need you. You’re the one. His voice morphed into Conrad’s. It was no longer light and airy and full of love. It was raspy and deep and full of something more sinister. Pain. Regret. I love you. I need you. I saw Conrad’s smile when I finally got something right in math or when I told him I liked the book he recommended. I hear his laughter when it’s muffled because he’s a few rooms away and I’m in Jeremiah’s room but for some reason my ear drums pick up that. I see his eyes. His smile. The dimples that form in his cheeks when he smiles too big. I opened my eyes and my mom was watching me intently.
“She’s full of shit,” I mumbled. I walked out of the kitchen and went back upstairs.
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bad in the bones (c.f) part 6
a/n: hey guys! Hope you enjoy! Lmk what you think and if u wanna be added to the taglist so you’re notified when i update!
catch up here
Conrad's quiet music accompanies us on our drive to the pier. It wasn’t too far from the house, I remember seeing it as we drove into town only a few days before. It’s cliche, but it really does feel like it was forever ago that we arrived. Forever ago when I didn’t know Conrad existed, Josh was still the asshole that left me, and I was doomed to a summer alone with the prospect of Columbia spinning down the garbage disposal. Now, I’m sitting in the car with a boy that I kissed less than 12 hours ago and Josh still loves me and I can’t help but wonder if I still love him but my hand pulls towards Conrad’s as it dangles off the end of the middle console of the car. Maybe one day we’ll find ourselves back to each other.
Conrad’s quiet music accompanies us on our drive to the pier. It wasn’t too far from the house, I remember seeing it as we drove into town only a few days before. It’s cliche, but it really does feel like it was forever ago that we arrived. Forever ago when I didn’t know Conrad existed, Josh was still the asshole that left me, and I was doomed to a summer alone with the prospect of Columbia spinning down the garbage disposal. Now, I’m sitting in the car with a boy that I kissed less than 12 hours ago and Josh still loves me and I can’t help but wonder if I still love him but my hand pulls towards Conrad’s as it dangles off the end of the middle console of the car. Maybe one day we’ll find ourselves back to each other.
Conrad’s quiet music accompanies us on our drive to the pier. It wasn’t too far from the house, I remember seeing it as we drove into town only a few days before. It’s cliche, but it really does feel like it was forever ago that we arrived. Forever ago when I didn’t know Conrad existed, Josh was still the asshole that left me, and I was doomed to a summer alone with the prospect of Columbia spinning down the garbage disposal. Now, I’m sitting in the car with a boy that I kissed less than 12 hours ago and Josh still loves me and I can’t help but wonder if I still love him but my hand pulls towards Conrad’s as it dangles off the end of the middle console of the car. Maybe one day we’ll find ourselves back to each other.
“So, what is this boat’s name?” I ask. I need to talk to get out of my head. I need him to talk so I don’t hear Josh’s voice telling me that he loves me.
“Well,” he laughs as if there’s a story here. Hopefully a very long one that makes his voice sound familiar and like background noise I could listen to forever. That’s what I need right now. Someone to talk and talk until their breath runs out. “My sailing boat’s name is the Unsinkable.”
“How come?” Where’s the story? There’s always a story.
“Remember when you told me you were afraid of the water?” I nod. “Well, when I was really young I used to be afraid of boats. My dad always wanted on and when we were young, he actually built one with me and Jeremiah. I was too scared to get on it and he always told me it was unsinkable.” He smiles to himself. I wish I could see the scene play out in his mind. “I don’t know how true that is, but.” He shrugs his shoulders and the fond smile washes away from his face. “That was a long time ago.”
“So how come that boat isn’t named the Unsinkable?” I ask.
“Jeremiah wanted to call it Shark Bait.” I laugh. Loud. Conrad glances over at my from the driver’s seat and can’t help but laugh, too. “It’s still docked at this pier. We just never use it. It’s not a good boat.”
“It floats?” I ask. My cheeks hurt because now I’m smiling and I feel like I can’t stop. Conrad nods and says yeah of course it floats like it was obvious and I reply: “Then it’s a good boat.”
He gives me a grateful smile. His eyes tell me that no one has ever told him that before and maybe no one has had the chance to tell him. Belly always told me that Conrad didn’t get along with his dad very much. That lately they’ve been fighting but he sounded fond of him just now and I didn’t want to crush that. I know what it’s like to find fleeting moments of love for your parents. “I didn’t know that Adam ever came during the summer. Besides the Fourth. At least, that’s what Belly has always told me,” I say. I hate that I say it but I’m curious and I hate that I’m curious. Summer was for the girls and the kids, she used to tell me. She’d beam so bright it would knock out the sun while she talked about it, carefully picking out each piece of clothing. For Conrad. I look back out the window at the ocean as it passes by. Guilt. That’s what I’m feeling.
“He usually doesn’t. It was when we were young and I think they were going through a hard time so she let him come up for the first month. It was the first and only time he spent more than a weekend in Cousins and I don’t think my mom liked it very much. Jeremiah has fond memories of that summer, though.”
“And you?”
“I remember him yelling at us a lot because we were doing stuff wrong. I remember him pushing me to get on it even after I told him I was scared and then I remember getting over it and then him yelling at me whenever I took it out without his permission. We only took it on the water once that summer.” His voice is quiet like he’s telling me a secret and I wonder how many people know this story. “I guess I can thank him for helping me get over that fear. Wouldn’t be sailing today without it, right?” He turns up the end of his mouth trying to lighten the mood but it feels heavy between us right now.
“Have you taken it out since?” I ask him as he turns the corner down a gravel road. Further down the street is the pier with only a few cars in the parking lot. A couple of boats have their lights on, other people getting ready to watch the sunset I assume and there’s a small store with an OPEN sign flashing in the window and a sign that reads FRESH BAIT.
“Yeah, I do occasionally. It’s not much of an ocean boat, really. But it does the job.” He pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the ignition. “We’re here.” He turns off the car and we sit in the jarring silence. The birds are awake, I notice.
I feel like I need to say something. Something to even out this conversation even though he didn’t ask for it and instead of getting out of the car, I say, “my mom used to yell at me, too. Whenever she’d sign me up for some new class or enroll me in some new sport. She’d always tell me I wasn’t trying hard enough but my body wasn’t build for basketball, you know?” I let out a choked laugh and Conrad laughs through his nose. “She’d yell at me for anything and everything and that’s why I always quit. Because I thought she’d stop yelling at me but she’d just find something new. I think she was projecting.” I don’t want to look over at him but I feel his eyes on me.
“Why are you telling this?” I can’t tell if his voice is quiet because he’s whispering or if because it got too quiet too quickly and his voice just sounds louder in the silence of the ocean.
“Because you told me about your dad.” I finally look at him. He doesn’t look at me with pity like most people do when I tell them about my mom. He just looks like he understands. “And I want you to know that I understand.” I pause, swallow my tears, and continue. “I understand what it’s like to not really like your parent.”
His mouth twitches and I think he wants to smile but he doesn’t. He clears his throat and nods and that’s the end of the conversation. I let out of a sigh of relief. “Are you ready to go?” He asks eventually and I nod.
He gets out of the car and opens up the backseat, grabbing a picnic basket and a blanket. “What’s all that?” I ask suspiciously, cocking my head to the side and raising my eyebrows. Conrad blushes and shoves the picnic basket in my direction, motioning me to grab it. I wrap my hands around the handle and it hits my hip bone.
“Don’t make it a big deal,” he says as he starts to walk down the parking lot toward the wooden pier. I can’t help but laugh as I follow him and I can see him shaking his head at me. He stops at the fourth boat, a beautiful white sailboat with white seats and navy blue trim. The Unsinkable. He raises his eyebrows at me, asking for my approval of the boat. I nod and smile.
“Where’s Shark Bait?” I ask. He smiles wide and nods further down the pier. My eyes travel along the boats all docked in a row until I see a small, wooden boat at the very end. It seems extra small in comparison to the sailboats but I can see its name painted on the side.
Conrad gets on the boat, making it rock on the water. My eyes follow the waves that crash on the sides of the boat and I feel a shiver run up my spin.“Come on,” he tells me. I don’t look up at him. I can’t. I know the water isn’t that deep, it can’t be. But the pier feels less sturdy than it did a few minutes ago. You okay?” He asks me, making me look up. I nod my head but I can’t speak. “Come here, give me the basket.” He reaches out to me and I hand it over. With my hands free, I don’t know what to do with them. I wring out my fingers and pick at my nail. Conrad sets the basket down and reaches out again. “Come here.”
I put my hand in his and his fingers wrap around my hand. He counts to 3 and then hoists me up onto the boat. I close my eyes as he pulls me over the water. Even when both feet are planted on the floor and I no longer feel the boat moving, I don’t open my eyes. Conrad puts his hands on my shoulders and he rubs them up and down causing a wave of heat to spread down my arms. “Look at me,” he coaxes. I do as he asks and see nothing but concern on his face. Concern for me.
“I’m okay,” I say. He doesn’t seem to believe me and holds my eye contact for a few more moments before he lets go of me. I look around and try not to think about all the many ways this boat could sink. I sit down as close to the pier as I can and grip the sides of the boat.
“I thought you said that being on a boat would be fine,” he teases. I narrow my eyes at him and tap my toe against his leg. He smiles at me and nods toward the pier. “Help me untie this stuff, okay?” I nod, grateful for a distraction from the water. I lean over the side of the boat to see where he’s pointing at and I see a black floaty hitting the side of the boat. “We have to untie this from the pier, see?” I follow the rope to the dock where it’s attached to a metal post. “I use a knot called a bowline to tie it,” he tells me as he undoes the tie. The boat floats away from the dock a little bit, the front of the boat pointing toward the sea.
I follow him down the boat as he heads toward the rear and he asks me, “you wanna undo this one?”
“I don’t know how,” I say.
“You, the child prodigy, don’t know how to untie a bowtie?” I narrow my eyes at him and brush him off, making him laugh. It’s a sound I want to hear over and over again. I realize that I want to make him laugh again. “Come on, I’ll teach you.”
He starts to undo the tie until it’s loose, then he makes me do it. I hold the knot in my head and go under and over whenever he tells me to until it’s just two pieces of rope. “I did it!”
“You did it!” His hands grab my waist, turning me away from the pier to look at him. He’s smiling and his fingers dig gently into my skin. “Not so bad, huh?” He asks. I shake my head and he lets go of me too soon. He sits down in the driver's seat, turning on the lights at the front of the boat and turning on the motor. The light illuminates the water in a way that the moon can’t. It makes it brighter, sweeter. I can almost taste it.
He tells me to sit down so I do and he starts driving the boat out into the water. The shakiness doesn’t bother me anymore and it’s not that bad as he drives. I just look up at the sky instead of down below. I can feel his eyes on me. They’re burning a hole in the side of my head and my lips twitch as I try not to smile.
“Where are we going?” I ask him mostly to give my mouth something to do other than what they want to do.
“I have a spot,” he says. I raise my eyebrows at him but he doesn’t look at me, he just continues to drive the boat. We drive until we’re surrounded by nothing but water and the darkness. It was starting to get light out, like a soft grey washing over the ocean. Conrad stopped driving so we were just floating idily in the water. It’s not so bad when I don’t look at it. He spins himself around in his chair to face me, our knees hitting. He doesn’t move them. “Is this your spot?” I ask him.
“Okay, so I don’t have a spot. But there’s a perfectly clear view of the sky for the sunrise.” He opens his arms up at the sky. I can see the sun peeking its head out over the water line.
“Do you bring all the girls here?” I tease. Conrad moves to sit down next to me and he slings his arm over my shoulders. I immediately regret the question. I look up at him and he’s so close to me, I can see every imperfection in his skin. The stubble that’s beginning to grow on his chin. He smiles and shakes his head. When he looks at me, nothing else seems to matter. My mind goes uiet. Columbia doesn’t exist. My mom is a mom. Josh is still an asshole. Nothing is confusing.
“There are no other girls.”
“Other?” I raise my eyebrows. “Meaning there’s one?” He shrugs as if that’s an answer. Of course there’s one. “Who says there’s one.” I’m trying to be coy. Tease him and make him think that I don’t want him because I can’t want him.
“You kissed me last night, if you remember.” He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. His fingers dance along my arm as it lays across my shoulders. He’s smiling because he thinks I’m playing a game.
“I remember. But I can’t be your girl,” I tell him. He hides his pain well, if he felt any. I try to hide my guilt just as well but it bubbles up inside of my throat. We’ll find our way back to each other. “We’re friends okay? We have to just be friends.” I love you, more than you know.
“Why?” He sounds so sure of himself. Like there was never a single question about wether or not I would be his girl after that kiss. Like it was inconcievable that I would ever tell him no. “Tell me why not.” He turns to face me. His arm leaves my shoulders and his hands grab mine.
I could think of one reason why not: Josh. Then, reason number two popped into my head: a brunette, brown eyed, bright smiled reason. Belly. I didn’t say these things, though. I kept them to myself. No matter how soft his eyes got and how hard they pleaded with mine, I had to keep my mouth shut. “I just got dumped. That wouldn’t be fair, would it? To you.” That wasn’t too far from the truth, was it?
He seems to consider this as his face turns golden from the sun. I looked out on the horizon and tried to pretend his hands weren’t hot against my skin. He leans back against the seat and he lets go of my hand. I want to lean my head against his shoulder but I don’t let myself. He doesn’t give me the chance to, anyway, because he leans forward and grabs the picnic basket that he brought onboard. “What’s in there?” I finally ask.
He pulls out two bottles of orange juice, a container of grapes, and two breakfast sandwiches. “Because you didn’t like the muffins.” He winks playfully at me. They’re still hot and I thank him as I unwrap it. “I went out early and picked them up.”
“How much earlier did you get up?” I ask jokingly but Conrad blushes. He shrugs as if to say it’s no big deal but I know the place he got these sandwiches from was a little ways away from the house and he had to still be back in time to pick me up and pack it all, so it must have been early and that fact alone made my heart skip a beat. “This was nice of you,” I tell him.
“I wanted to make it special.” The guilt retches out of my stomach. It grabs ahold of my heart and squeezes so tightly it explodes inside of my chest. I see the blood rushing out of my nose, my eyes, my ears. The guilt makes me explode from the inside out. I reach out and put my hand on top of his. It’s a selfish thing to do - touch him. I know it is when I see the look on his face: pain, regret, a hopefulness that you know will end in disappointment.
“Can we be friends?” I ask him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Please say yes.
“Yeah,” he says. I sigh. He notices. His eyes soften and he picks up a grape, tossing it at me. I laugh as it lands in my laugh. “Yeah, we’re friends.” I pick up the grape and pop it into my mouth, smiling at him like a chipmunk. We eat our breakfast as the run rises. The sky turns from dark blue to golden orange to bright blue and I think to myself: I wouldn’t want to be here with anybody else.
When the sky is blue and clear, he asks me if I want to learn how to sail and at first I want to tell him no, beg him to take me home, but I nod my head instead. He unties the sail at the front of the boat and hands me a rope. He tells me what it’’s called adn I store it away it in my brain. Jib haylard. He tells me to pull it as tight as I can and I attach it to the anchor on the side of the boat. He does the rest: opening the rest of the sail and adjusting it as needed. He seems so at peace. Like this is exactly where he needs to be. I like watching him be so focused and attentive. He catches me staring at says, “what? There’s a better view over there.” He nods toward the water passing by us.
“I disagree.”
taglist: @marajillana@liltimmyst@angelayse @nani-2305 @drikawinchester @28cnn @nyenye @isthlsfate
#tsitp#conrad fisher#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#conrad fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher fan fic#tsip conrad#conrad fisher fluff#conrad fisher one shot#conrad fisher fic#belly Conklin#jenny han
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seventeen going under (j.f) (ch.4)
seventeen going under (j.f)
AN: hey guys! hope you enjoy part 4! let me know what you think!
synopsis: jeremiah plans a picnic and YN attends the deb ball tea
catch up here
As I rushed out the front door, Conrad stood at the end of the walkway, a box of good muffins in his hands. "I brought these for you," he said to me after I stopped dead in my tracks.
"I had some yesterday," I told him. Although, that never stopped me before. The Cousins beach muffins were the only muffins I would put in my mouth. "Thanks though." I headed down the path, cutting through the grass to avoid being too close to him.
"YN," he called after me. I turned around and forced a smile on my face. He looked tired. I doubt he slept at all. We looked at each other for a little too long before he opened his mouth, shut it again, and then said: "Is your mom home? Maybe she'd like them."
"She's inside," I told him. He started to walk toward the house when this time, I stopped him. "Do you even remember last night?" I scoffed a little bit, unable to bite my tongue.
His eyes seemed to soften and I didn't really know what part I was even referring to: the fight, Nicole, him playing with my hair. Maybe all of it. "I remember everything when I drink," he said quietly. I felt my throat swell and I turned around and walked away. He didn't stop me this time.
Belly was at the kitchen table when I walked in. She was eating the last bite of her cereal and milk dripped down her chin when she smiled at me. “Hey!” She said, mouth full of Fruity Pebbles. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to check on you,” I said, squinting and leaning in on her to see her eyes. It surely was black. ���That looks rough.”
“Oh, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” she chuckled and lifted the bowl of fruity milk to me. “Want it?” She offered. I shook my head in disgust and she sighed. “Where’s Jeremiah Fisher when you need him? I always feel bad putting it down the sink.” I laughed and pulled out a chair at the table as Belly rinsed her bowl. Jeremiah always drank our cereal milk. I thought it was disgusting, but he just absent-mindedly grabbed it every time I was finished and I didn’t have the heart to protest.
“How was Cam last night?” I sang. She turned around and leaned her back against the counter, trying to hide her smile. "That good?" My eyebrows raised and I danced in my chair, eager for her to tell me the details.
"It was nice. He drove me home and then asked me if I wanted to go on his whale-watching boat this morning," she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.
"You went on a whale-watching boat?" I gawked. She laughed, smiling wide, nodding her head. "Did he kiss you?" She nodded again. "Isobel Conklin, you little player!"
"He's nice," she said. "I like him."
"I'm glad you like him," I told her. I was happy for her. She was always like a little sister to me and to see her glow, made my heart glow just as bright. "What's on the agenda today?" I asked, changing the subject.
“My mom and Susannah are gonna take me shopping for the deb tea tomorrow,” she said, smiling wider. “Did you pick out your outfit yet?” I shook my head and looked down at my fingers in my lap. The deb ball. I forgot. “Do you wanna come with us?” She offered.
I shook my head again. “I have to meet Jeremiah at the country club later, so I don’t think I’ll have time. I’m sure I have something in my closet.”
Belly nodded solemnly but then she smiled softly. “Well, if I see anything you’d like, I’ll pick it up for you, okay?”
I should never have agreed to the deb ball, but when Susannah Fisher is looking at me with her pretty blue eyes, smoothing down my hair, and telling me it would be perfect I couldn’t really tell her no.
My mom protested. I could hear them arguing softly in the kitchen one night as I sat on the steps in my pajamas. My cellphone was clutched in my hands and I bounced my leg impatiently.
“She’s gonna be beautiful, Mary. Why can’t you just trust me? All the girls in Cousin's do it,” Susannah tried to reason. I could hear the wine glasses clinking on the counter. That’s the line she used on me, too.
“What about Belly? Are you making Belly do it?” My mom asked.
“I haven’t asked Laurel yet but I do intend on getting her an invite, yes.” There was a little bit of silence. I could almost see the look on my mom's face if I focused hard enough into the darkness of the foyer. Annoyance. Frustration. Guilt. I didn’t know then what I know now. Why Susannah asked me and Belly to be debs but I bet my mom did. “I bet Laurel will say the same thing. Come on. Jeremiah will escort her.”
I almost choked on my saliva at that part. Jeremiah would never escort any girl to the deb ball. Every year he scoffs at the girls entering and exiting the country club with their frilly hats and gloves on her their hands. He’s always made fun of them. Conrad, too. It was always just a joke. Last year, we made fun of Conrad for months when we found out he was escorting Nicole, even if it was a last-minute escort switch. Nicole needed a date and Susannah needed to help everyone. I couldn’t even count the number of girls Jeremiah had turned down.
My mom sighed and finally said okay and I ran back upstairs and into my room. When I told Jeremiah about the ball, he laughed. He said, “No way in Hell am I escorting you to the ball. Have you seen those tuxedos? The cummerbunds? It’s laughable, YN. And you agreed to do that?” He laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. I tried to shush him as if my mom and Susannah could hear him all the way downstairs.
“Yeah, I did agree to it. Your mom asked me. How can I say no?”
“Like this: no,” he said and laughed some more.
“Jere, come on. She’s gonna ask Belly, too. Are you gonna make fun of her like this?” I asked. I shoved my feet under my sheets and wrapped my arm around my knees.
“Yes.”
“Jere.”
“Okay, okay. If you’re serious, I’ll support you. But I am not escorting you,” he said as if that was final. I mumbled fine and that was the end of the conversation.
Now, as Belly talked about shopping with her mom and Susannah, I was envious. I was sure my mom would take me shopping if I asked, she was just so opposed to it when Susannah brought up the idea, I didn’t think she really wanted much to do with it and truthfully, I’d be sad shopping without my mom.
“Is your mom excited?” I asked. “About you being a deb?”
Belly scoffed. “Absolutely not. She thinks it’s sexist and outdated. Yours?”
That sounded like the Laurel that I knew. “She hasn’t said much to me but I overheard them talking a while ago and she wasn’t very happy, either,” I told her. She gave me a soft, sympathetic smile and then shrugged.
“Oh, well. The things we do for Susannah Fisher, right?” She laughed. I nodded my head in agreement and then we spent the midmorning watching crappy tv shows and eating Cheetos right out of the bag and licking our fingers and grabbing more. Right before 1, I excused myself to go see Jeremiah. Belly winked at me on my way out and I couldn’t help but blush just a little bit.
I pulled up at the country club at exactly 1 and Jeremiah was leaving the pool area as I was entering. “I thought you forgot,” he said, relief flushing in his cheeks. “I was looking for you.”
“I’m exactly on time,” I said, laughing at him. He grabbed my wrist and led me to the parking lot where the Jeep was parked. “What are we doing? Don’t you have to eat?” I glanced back at the club longingly for the food counter that Steven worked out. I would die for a lemonade right about now. The July heat was creeping into late June.
“I may have prepared,” he said, opening the back hatch of the Jeep. There was a little picnic basket in the back and a pitcher of fresh lemonade, the lemons still perfectly intact. “Just a little.”
“When?” I couldn’t help but chuckle. I couldn’t imagine when he had time to do this, especially considering I called him on his way to work but he just shrugged and smoothed out the blanket on the trunk of the car.
“I may have snuck off duty when the other lifeguard came in and had Steven make a few things,” he said nonchalantly. “Thirsty?” I nodded and he poured out a glass of lemonade for me, sticking a lemon on the rim of the glass. I took it gratefully and sat down on the blanket. Jeremiah moved closer to me, still standing on the pavement. I could see the sunburn finding a home on his shoulders from sitting out in the sun all day.
“You should wear more sunscreen,” I commented, using my free hand to gently run my fingers over the redness. He shrugged as if it didn’t hurt and I made a note of the freckles that were forming.
“I do wear sunscreen,” he said.
“You should wear more,” I replied.
He smirked gently and said, “are you going to rub it on me?” I laughed outwardly, shaking my head and Jeremiah’s smile grew wider. “What’s so funny?”
“You flirting with me is funny,” I said. He waved me off and reached behind me for the picnic basket, grabbing a sandwich. It was a turkey club with extra mayo, his favorite. “Where’s mine?” I asked.
“I don’t know, go ask Steven,” he teased, unwrapping it and taking a bite. I would have stolen it right from his hands and eaten it myself if I liked mayonnaise, but I hate it, so I let him be. “It’s in the basket,” he droned. I smiled and turned around, digging for mine. There were grapes, bags of chips, a few chocolate chip cookies, and two sandwiches for each of us.
“Where’s the ice cream?” I ask jokingly. I was more than pleased with what he had done for us.
“I thought I could swing by after work and take you to go get some,” he suggested. My eyes narrowed at him, suddenly suspicious of what he was up to. I remembered the bonfire. I remembered every second of it and it made my heart twirl and my stomach flip, but I kept my mouth shut.
“What have you done with my best friend?” I asked. Jeremiah put his hands on my thighs and I felt like I couldn’t breathe and then he smiled and it got worse. “First a picnic and now ice cream after work?” My words caught my throat like a fish on a wire and I felt like my voice cracked.
“I can’t just be nice to you?”
“When are you ever?” I teased, finally unwrapping my sandwich in my lap. I didn’t want to look at him. I didn’t want his hands on my thighs anymore because they were burning.
“Always,” he remarked, removing one hand and holding it to his heart like I had stunned him. “I’m always nice to you.” I just shrugged even though that was mostly true. Between him making fun of my glasses and the way that I run in the sand, he stays up late with me and talks about anything and everything even if he hates it and he always brings me ice cream and French fries when I ask. He was always perfect. “So is it a date?” He cocked his eyebrows up and set his hand back on my thigh.
“You can pick me up, yes,” I replied. Careful not to repeat the word date. He didn’t show any emotion on his face and I held my breath as I tried to decipher what he was feeling. I don’t even think he noticed I didn’t call it a date. He tucked a piece of loose hair behind my ear, his fingertips trailing down my jawline. “Jere,” I breathed out.
“Mmmh?” He mumbled, tilting his head to the right, a small smile playing on his lips like he knew the game he was playing and he knew it was risky. For the second time in two days, I thought Jeremiah Fisher was going to kiss me.
I cleared my throat and pulled away subtly, grabbing my lemonade and bringing it to my mouth. I couldn’t kiss him. God, I wanted to. But I couldn’t.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, suddenly very serious.
“Nothing,” I said as cheerfily as I could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make him back off a little bit as he shrugged his shoulders and picked his sandwich back up. “Thank you for this,” I said, gesturing toward the food. “It was really nice of you.”
“Anything for you, YN,” he said. “I mean that.”
“What about the deb ball?” I asked, knowing it would make him groan in displeasure. Which he did. Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about it much but Belly got me thinking about it earlier and the tea was tomorrow which meant it was time to start looking for a date.
“I already told you, no.” He was shaking his head rapidly, his curls falling in his face. “No, no, nope. No way.”
“You just said you’d do anything for me,” I teased, kicking at his thigh with my foot gently. He watched it and I felt my legs go numb as his eyes trailed up them and back to my face. Almost like he was taking a mental picture to remember the way my body looked for later.
“Anything but that,” he clarified.
“Then I’ll just have to find another date,” I said, shrugging as if it were no big deal to go with someone else. I don’t even think I knew anyone else that could take me. I almost thought about asking Conrad at that moment, but maybe it was time to look for a summer fling to occupy my time.
+
“You’re gonna need a beautiful dress. And a hat! A small hat! I’ll find you one, a nice one!” Susannah exclaimed over the phone later that night. She called me before they went shopping with Laurel and Belly, begging me to come with her. I could almost feel her smile in her words. I was getting ready for Jeremiah to pick me up, so I declined as I brushed out my hair to get rid of all the tangles in it. After the picnic in the Jeep, I walked back to the pool with him and as I hugged him goodbye, he lifted me off my feet and tossed me into the pool but I couldn’t be mad because he cannonballed in after me and wrapped me in his arms under the water.
When I got home, my stomach full of mint chocolate chip, a beautiful yellow dress was hanging on the door of my bedroom. My mom peeked her head out her own room and whispered, “pretty, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding my head. “It’s really pretty.” The dress was a canary yellow
with a sweetheart neckline and little white daisies sprinkled all over. “Did you buy this for me?” I turned to look at my mom and she had a smile plastered on her face and nodded.
“Susannah picked it out, of course, but I thought it was perfect for you.” I walked over and hugged my mom tightly. She wrapped her arms around me and the familiar smell of home washed over me.
Now, as I messed with the hat on my head in the front seat of my mom’s car, I hated that I agreed. “Why did I do this again?” I asked her. She laughed at me and kissed my cheek. We were parked at the country club and I was trying to make the hat stay on right but it kept falling off.
“Because you love Susannah. That’s why.” She reached over and made sure the hat was on straight as she got one final look at me. “You look beautiful,” she said.. “Call me when you’re finished, okay? There’s Jeremiah,” she said, pointing out of the front windshield. Jeremiah was walking in his lifeguard uniform (flip flops and red swimtrunks) and he was carrying a pile of clean towels.
“Love you,” I said to her, hugging her over the middle console before getting out.
I shut the door behind me and when Jeremiah saw me approaching, he smiled wide and said, “look at you! In a fancy hat!” I laughed and curtsied, tilting my hat down in the process. He tapped it with his free hand. “You look very pretty,” he said.
“Walk me up?” I asked him. He smiled wide and jogged over to the golf cart that was parked only a few feet away. He set the towels down and linked his arm with mine.
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said. “What’s on your dress, anyway?” He asked, squinting down to my yellow dress. I suddenly felt self-conscious, shying away from his gaze only for him to pull me in a little bit tighter. “Is that snow?” He laughed.
“They’re bees!” I told him, dropping my jaw as if I were offended. He extended his arm, his fingertips trailing down my arm until his hand was in mine. He twirled me around and I laughed as I crashed back into his chest. He held me too close. I could feel his heart beating against my hand. “I’m gonna be late,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Jeremiah nodded and we started moving again except this time, he was holding my hand.
As we walked up the stairs to the ballroom, I could hear the music playing softly. “Are you nervous?” Jeremiah laughed gently, looking down at our locked hands. “Your hands are sweating.” I pulled my hand away from his quickly and wiped them off on my dress. “It’s okay!” He went to reach for my hand again when an older lady stuck her head out of the ballroom door at us, glaring as if we were interrupting.
“Jeremiah Fisher,” she said. “Nice to see you.” Jeremiah straightened and bowed in front of the woman, grabbing her hand on his way up and kissing her knuckles. Jeremiah spent a lot more time at the club than I ever had. Susannah was a huge contributor and my mom, well, she wouldn't be caught dead in one of these.
“Paige.” He winked and then gestured toward me. “This is YN YLN, one of the girls my mom told you about. My future wife.” He looked toward me and winked. I felt my cheeks turn bright red and I stuck out my hand for Paige.
She didn’t take it and instead told me, “you’re at table 2. It’s time for you to leave now, Jeremiah.”
I mumbled “bye” to Jeremiah and he squeezed my elbow as I walked to table 2. I breathed a sigh of relief that Belly and Shayla were already sitting down, waving me over with a huge smiles on their faces. My heart dropped when the only empty seat was next to Nicole.
“Finally you’re here,” Belly said, adjusting herself in her chair to face me. Her knees were touching mine and he filled the empty glass in front of me with water. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever gonna show up but now I see why you were late.” She winked at me and giggled like a little school girl.
“Jeremiah looked good,” Shayla said from next to Belly. “You know, compared to last year,” she added. “He really grew into his muscles.”
“Oh, you like Jeremiah now?” Gigi, a girl that I recognized but barely knew, said from a few seats over. She was pretty in an effortless type of way. Much like Belly and Shayla. They never really had to try that hard.
“She’s too busy making sex eyes with the waiter,” Nicole teased from beside me.
“Gross, that’s Belly’s brother,” Shayla said, shaking her head and looking down at her lap but I could see her blushing under her hat.
“Steven is serving?” I whispered to Belly.
She nodded at the same time that Nicole said: “Gigi’s had a crush on Jeremiah ever since he got abs, right Gi?” That comment was more important than Steven serving and I looked over at Gigi who was shaking her head and blushing and the light banter between the girls seemed to have faded away because all I could picture now was Gigi in a swimsuit begging Jeremiah to save her.
“Are you two dating?” Gigi asked, her question brought me out of the water and back to the surface.
“They’re practically family. More so than Belly and the boys, right?” Shayla said, turning to me for clarity. I nodded, although that wasn’t much of the truth. The Fisher’s were my family but Jeremiah, Jeremiah was the one.
#jeremiah fisher#jeremiah fisher x reader#jeremiah fisher imagine#jeremiah fisher fan fic#tsitp#the summer i turned pretty#conrad fisher#conrad fisher x reader#tsitp imagine#team jeremiah
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