What if it wasn't Steven who went after Conrad but Belly? What would happen?

Please excuse any mistakes, English is not my first language!

Sitting here, watching "It Happened One Night" and waiting for our pizza to arrive, it almost felt like it was all going to be okay. It felt like all the memories we made in this house together didn't have a beginning or an end. They would continue; we would continue making memories, and nobody, not even Aunt Julia, could ever take this away from us. It almost felt normal, like nothing bad had ever happened.

After 20 minutes of watching the film, Conrad stood up without saying a word and went outside. He seemed rushed; his movements felt urgent. What was going on? Nobody seemed to really notice. Should I go after him? That would be weird. I thought about it for a few more minutes.

I couldn't quite tell what exactly it was, but something inside me told me this was serious. I felt like he needed me; at least that was what I told myself as I got up and walked outside, looking for Conrad.

"Conrad?" I yelled, walking down to the beach but still careful so the others wouldn't hear me.

Conrad was nowhere to be seen. My heart started racing; was he okay? He didn't seem okay, but I couldn't do anything about it. We were broken up, our fight still in the back of my mind. Walking further down to the beach, not really seeing anything so late at night, I questioned myself. What. was. I. doing.?

"Conrad?" I yelled again.

"I'm-" he paused, seemingly catching his breath. "I'm here," he answered. His voice was faint, and I barely recognized it. He seemed out of breath.

I finally found him, and it looked like he was hyperventilating. I ran up to him, fearful of what was going on.

"Conrad, what is going on? Are you okay?" I asked with a shocked expression.

Conrad stood there, his hand on his heart, gasping for air. He was shaking. What was this? I had never seen him like this.

"You can go back inside. I'm fine, really," he could barely get the words out. It was clear as day that he was not fine.

"I am not going back. I want to help you," I said.

"Belly, you can't-" he stopped, trying to take a deep breath but failing. "You can't," he said again with an expression I couldn't decipher.

We just stood there for another minute. Conrad still couldn't really breathe, and I just watched, helplessly trying to figure out what I could do without making it harder for both of us. Suddenly, he started to talk again.

"Panic attack. I am having a panic attack," he said, but he didn't look at me. I took a step closer to him and cautiously put my hand on his shoulder. It almost felt electric touching him again.

"Is this okay?" I asked. He didn't answer and just looked at me, and I knew it was okay. His eyes looked empty, like he had been fighting this battle for way too long.

"Can you talk to me? It helps," he said.

"Of course," I answered, but I didn't know what to talk about. We hadn't talked to each other in weeks, months. It was weird, but at the same time, it felt like nothing had changed.

"Do you remember the last time we were here? It was snowing, and we were freezing. My boots, Susannah's boots, were way too big, and I almost tripped while running." I smiled, more to myself than to him. I didn't know if this was the best idea, to talk about that night, but I couldn't think of anything else. I looked at him, and with my hand still on his shoulder, I could feel him slowly calming down. Still, I continued talking. "We were chasing each other, and it was the first time we both saw snow on the beach. We were laughing so hard that we didn't even realize just how cold it was. I think that was one of my favorite memories here." I stopped and looked at him.

He seemed calm again and looked at me almost like he was searching, yearning for something. I took a step back and waited for him to say something, anything.

"Thank you." His words were sincere, and I knew he was ashamed.

"How long has this been happening?" I asked him. Did he already have these panic attacks when we were together?

"Since I found out about my mom's cancer coming back. It got worse after she-" he took a deep breath, looking at the ocean. "- after she died," he finished his sentence.

I wanted to comfort him and take him in my arms. I wanted so badly to hold him, tell him I am here, but I couldn't. We couldn't just go back.

"Belly?" he asked and interrupted my thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Please don't tell anyone." He turned his face to look at me. His face was filled with so much pain. I smiled weakly, even though it was so dark outside and the moon was the only source of light we had.

"I won't. I promise," I said.

We fell silent, both not really knowing what to say.

"It was one of my favorite memories too," Conrad said, breaking the silence.

"Conrad-" I began, but I didn't know what I even wanted to say. "We should go back inside; the others are surely wondering where we are," I finished my sentence, looking at him. He looked so vulnerable.

"I got into Stanford," Conrad suddenly said.

"What? That's amazing! That has been your dream since you were ten. Your mother would be so proud of you, Conrad." I meant it. "When did you apply?"

"A few months ago. I don't know if I even want to go. Things just started getting better with Jere, and I don't want to ruin this again. There's so much at stake."

"You don't have to decide right now." I looked at him, really looked at him. I could still drown in his eyes, I thought to myself. We were both just standing there, looking at each other, and it felt like time had stopped. I loved him, I always would, but I still didn't know what the future holds. We were both hurting so badly. Conrad took my hand, and I didn't fight him, I couldn't. He didn't speak, and neither did I. We heard the waves crashing in the background, and he just stood there in the dim moonlight, stroking my hand.

"Conrad? Belly?" I heard someone yell. I think it was Steven.

Conrad and I jumped apart, and the moment was over. It was so easy to love him when he was being so sweet. I remembered why I loved him; did love him, I mean.