Conrad's POV
"Dude, wake up!" I felt Jeremiah tug on my blanket and kicked my leg out, nailing him in the knee. "Aww, c'mon, man. Was that necessary? Get up! Belly and Laurel will be here later. Mom needs our help." At Belly's name, I bolted up right in my bed, my heart beating faster suddenly.
I looked at Jere. "I'm up, I'm up. Now get out," I said, pointing to my door. Jere shook his head and mumbled to himself on his way out. I ran my hand over my face, thinking of Belly. The last time I saw her was last summer and the thought of seeing her again made my heart jump. I often wished I could see her more than three months out of the year, but how would that happen? Belly and I had always just been friends. We weren't especially close, and my growing feelings for her from last summer surprised me.
I remembered chasing her around the beach when we were little, not letting her go downtown with us when we got a little older. Slowly, she changed from a little girl to just a girl…and my eyes noticed. I sighed and pushed my covers off of me, heading to the bathroom. This was going to be a long three months.
Belly's POV
I sat in my bedroom at the beach house, not being able to sleep. I looked at the clock one more time and saw that it read 3:09. I stifled a sigh and sat up in my bed. I had always been able to sleep better at the beach house than my normal home and wondered what was so wrong tonight.
I thought back to lunch, to Jeremiah finding any small reason to touch me: brushing his hands over mine as he passed me a plate, resting his knee against mine, playing with my hair. Then I thought of Conrad, and how he scowled every time Jere seemed to get too close to me. Maybe it was my overactive imagination, but it seemed like Conrad was mad about Jeremiah touching me. Watching him storm off from the table didn't help my thoughts at all. I didn't see him the rest of the night, so I couldn't even ask him what was wrong.
Glancing at the clock one last time, I slipped out of bed and shimmied into my bathing suit. Padding out my room, I had one destination in mind: the pool. Swimming always cleared my head, and I seriously needed that right now. I'd been on the swim team at my school ever since my freshman year and my skin was itching to get into the pool again. Quietly opening the glass doors that led to the back of the porch, I stepped outside and stared the sky for a little bit. I could never see the stars at night where I lived, so ever since I was little I've loved staring at them at the summer house. Standing there a few minutes, I finally put my towel on a chair and dove into the pool. After a couple of laps, I could feel the tension in my muscles start to recede.
I had been in love with Conrad for as long as I could remember. Even as a little girl I was obsessed with him. Maybe "obsessed" isn't the right word, but the bottom line is this: Conrad will always have a part of me. Which is unfair, right? He hasn't done anything special to deserve a part of me. He's just like every other stupid boy, with his stupid smile and stupid sun-bleached hair and his stupid freckles and those stupid muscles of his. What makes him so different from all the other boys in the world? Why couldn't I love someone who could actually love me back? Loving Conrad was impossible: boys like him never went for girls like me. And that's not me being hard on myself or a baby about it, it's just the truth.
Feeling the tension rise again, I pushed even harder, gaining speed with each lap. I felt my legs begin to burn and smiled underwater. This is what I loved about swimming – having the ability to just lose yourself in it and clear your mind of any unwanted turmoil.
Satisfied with my late night workout, I stopped swimming and floated on my back. I let my mind wander while I stared at the stars, but I didn't let it stray on one topic for too long. Like that worked. Every five seconds, Conrad's face would flash across my mind and my heart would go into overtime.
"Couldn't sleep?" The question broke me out of my reverie and I stood up, seeing Conrad sitting on the chair that housed my towel. How long had he been there?
"Something like that," I replied, getting out. He handed me my towel and I dried my hair with it before wrapping it around my body. I sat in the chair next to him and he leaned back in his. He seemed content enough to just sit there, but I had to ask him what had been nagging me all day. "Why were you so upset at lunch?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked, a little too innocently.
"Don't give me that, Conrad. You had a scowl on your face practically the whole time and then you darted off before we were even done eating." I looked at him sideways and noticed he was clenching his fists. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him what happened.
"Oh, Conrad's just being a baby. He's still hung up on Cynthia. So, is this a party I wasn't invited to?" Jeremiah's sudden voice shot me up and I wrapped my towel around me tighter.
"Cynthia?" I asked, trying to sound casual. Conrad's fist tightened even more if possible. I looked at Jeremiah, who was wearing a crooked smile while looking at Conrad. It didn't seem as though Conrad was willing talk but Jere continued, "Cynthia was Con's girlfriend for about seven months. Then she dumped him. Said he wasn't committed enough, that he didn't seem invested in the relationship. She even said he was in love with som—"
"Jeremiah!" Conrad's sudden exclamation made me jump. I looked over and saw that his face was bright red, the veins in his hands popping out from his fingers being in tight fists.
Cynthia? I thought to myself. I never knew Conrad had a girlfriend, let alone for seven months. And who did she think he was in love with? Did he ever tell her he loved her? I felt the desperation of never having Conrad tell me he loves me well up in my chest. I looked to my right and found Conrad searching my face. I plastered a fake smile on my lips and declared, "That swim wiped me out! I'm gonna head to bed. See you guys tomorrow!" Hopping up, I scurried to the door, willing the tears not to fall before I was in the solitude of my room.