Chapter 2

Rapid fire updates? Yeah, not gonna happen haha. I have been sick, but with the semester wrapping up, I am expecting to have less and less free time unfortunately. On the flip side that means procrastination though, so maybe updates here and there! Just not a guarantee that it's day after day. So on with the story! See you all real son (hopefully!)

Disclaimer: As always, the wonderful Jenny Han owns the og storyline, characters, and all rights! This is just my measly interpretation of the universe she so beautifully created!

Chapter 2: Dreams

There is nothing like getting home after a long trip and sleeping in your own bed. It's absolute bliss. Last night was the best sleep I had gotten in a long time, right up until I started dreaming of Conrad Fisher. My dream started out with my last few hours in Spain being wrapped up in hugs, kisses, and Carmen's tears. The plane ride and deplaning process were exactly how it happened, but my family didn't come to greet me at baggage claim. It was just Conrad.

He tapped me on the shoulder to which I spun around. Wearing a Stanford hoodie, his glasses, and his hair slightly damp from rain somewhere, he smiled one of the rare but perfect Conrad Fisher smiles. Conrad wrapped me up in my arms and twirled me around as he said, "I missed you so much Belly."

Setting me down, I looked up at him staring into his blue eyes. He gave me another small smile as he tousled the front of my hair like he always did when greeting me at the summer house.

"Hey now!" I giggled in response.

Playing with one strand of my hair, Conrad tucked it behind my ear and in the same motion leaned down to kiss me. It was gentle and tender, like a movie kiss. We parted for breath, and he looked back in my eyes.

His hand trailed down my cheek as he whispered, "I won't let you walk out of my life again Belly."

And just like that, the dream was over. There's a familiar pitter patter sound on my window as I shot up in my bed, out of breath from nothing. Grabbing the glass of water from my nightstand, I took a massive gulp and glanced at my alarm clock.

2:53 p.m.

2 O'CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON?!

I hopped out of bed and ran down the stairs in my four size too big t-shirt to see my brother working on some code on his computer and my mom cleaning the kitchen. Steven half looks behind him and just laughs. This gets my mom's attention as she looks up and sees me frantically panting at the bottom of the stairs.

"I figured you needed the sleep to try to start readjusting to the time difference," she calmly explains as she walks over and engulfed me in a hug.

"Sleep is important, but I would've liked to have not been asleep for the last 16 hours though," I laugh wrapping my arms back around her.

I kiss her quick on the cheek as a thank you for letting me sleep, and I shuffle into the kitchen. Rummaging through the cabinets, I come to realize my mother had either cooked or stressed cleaned out the kitchen while being an empty nester. It was her luck that Steven's Spring Break and my return from Spain were the same week, so it was like the three amigos back together again, even if it was for a short time.

Unsure of what I am looking for in the kitchen, a cold chill rushes over me as I notice it is raining outside. Instinctively, I start looking for my go to when its cold, raining or snowing outside: Hot Cocoa.

"Hey, do either of you want a cup of hot cocoa?" I holler from the kitchen while pulling the milk out of the fridge to put in my mug.

I hear Steven scoff before asking, "Aren't you a little old to be drinking hot cocoa of all things?"

"A no would have sufficed asshat," I retort while pouring the milk into my mug.

My mother reappears in the kitchen with a mug in her hand. She is smiling, but I can tell she is annoyed from the look in her eyes.

"Would it be the end of the world if you two could not argue for just 5 minutes?" my mom asked innocently as she set her mug beside me.

Pouring some milk into her mug, she spoons in her desired amount of chocolate before popping our two mugs into the microwave to heat it up for 40 seconds. She goes to our spice cabinet and grabs the cinnamon out of the cupboard. I haven't added a dash of cinnamon to hot cocoa in such a long time. On a chilly Spring day like today though, it is the perfect addition to make any chill go away.

The microwave breaks my trance of reminiscing on my childhood of cinnamon hot cocoa. I scurry over to grab our mugs out of the microwave. Setting them down on the counter, there is a satisfying sound of the ceramic mugs hitting the stone countertop. My mother sprinkles the cinnamon on top of the sultry, brown liquid in the mug. My mom's cocoa trick is to add a spray of whipped cream on top of hers to act as a natural coolant for the first few hot sips.

Taking a sip from my mug, I sigh as the warm liquid fills my chest. A smile spreads across my face as I release a sigh. I hear my mother take her first sip, and she releases a similar sigh as mine.

I take another sip with both hands cupped around the sides of the mug as my mother says, "You always loved cocoa, but adding cinnamon was your first specialty hot cocoa."

Specialty. Hot cocoa and specialty being in the same sentence hadn't happened since my first Christmas at Cousins. I was with Conrad. Suddenly I was cold again, sitting there on the beach house couch while Conrad started a fire in the fireplace. The first night I ever saw a snowy beach.

My mother never knew what happened at Cousins that night, and for that matter, no one but Conrad and I even knew. A cold chill ran over my body, and I shudder while still holding my hot cocoa to my mouth but not taking a drink.

She gives me one of her classic side eyes as she questions, "So have you talked with anyone since being back?"

Classic mom. Always trying to figure out what is going on in that confusing head of mine. I set my mug down on the counter, turn around and brace myself with both of my hands on the counter beside me as I lean against it. She's looking at me like she always does, as if I am the hardest Sudoku puzzle she has ever seen. Waiting for a hint, or in this case, my answer.

"Well you know I at least talked to Taylor when I landed yesterday. I texted Anika when we were leaving dinner last night, but she didn't get back to me. My guess is that she is still on her road trip to the National Parks like she said she was going to do for her last college Spring break," I explained while popping myself up on the counter to swing my legs back and forth.

A smile breaks out across her face, very unnatural for her, as she exclaims, "I'm sure she will get back to you soon!"

Such a weird reaction from my mom. She never talks that loud or ever seems interested in what I have to say unless it's about if I am doing well in school or not. Skeptically, I raise my one eyebrow at her to ask the silent question of 'what do you actually want to ask me?'

Picking up on my weird eyebrow expression, she drops the smile, and scoots closer to me. My right calf is jutted against her hip now. She sets her mug down as I take a sip of mine. Wringing her hands, she heaves an even larger sigh as if she is about to tell me something life changing.

She still says nothing after her sigh, and I can't stand the silence, "How did he know where to send the letter and Junior Mint?"

I look at her and she looks back at me with the fakest surprised face I have ever seen my mother fake. She looks like a great value version of the Scream with significantly less artistic value. Raising both my eyebrows now, I signal that she isn't fooling me.

"Your brother and I went to visit Connie in California. We didn't want him to be alone on Beck's birthday. Even Jere came out for a day. Him and Jere are on speaking terms now, still very strained though. They both wanted to know how you were doing, so I told them of your first few weeks in Spain," She explained while going back to wringing her hands.

I took another sip of my hot cocoa to curb my surprise. This was the first of me hearing about their trip to the West Coast. Why didn't she tell me about them going to Stanford to see Conrad? And, why didn't she tell me that Jere and Conrad both wanted to know about my life? My mom was never quick to let people in, but when it came to Beck's Boys: Her Boys, she had a soft spot for them.

I was still in shock as she kept explaining how it had happened, "After Jere and Steven flew back east together, I spent the week out there with Connie. It was like old times when he used to be so open. When he was taking me back to the airport, he asked if I could let you know that he thought of you often. I figured he could tell you himself."

She immediately took a sip of her hot cocoa, while shooting me her other side eye: her trying to gauge my emotions. I am in shock. My mother, a wing woman?! She always knew how much I loved Conrad, but she also knew the toll all of my love for the Fisher's took on me.

I run a shaky hand through my hair. He was thinking about me. Often? What is this, a soap opera?! I scoff a little and shake my head at the thought of Conrad Fisher caving for a girl, even though I was that girl.

"What's the laugh for?" my mother asks as if she were trying to play dumb.

"What do you think mom? I let him back in! I didn't even know you and Steven saw him while I was gone. Jere too for that matter!"

At this rate, I was beyond exasperated. I wasn't frustrated about Conrad writing to me or that my mom gave him my place of contact while in Spain. I was frustrated he still has this pull on me. No matter how far I traveled, Conrad Fisher would always be the first boy I fell in love with, my first, the boy I saw forever with, and the only person who ever saw me for who I was when growing up.

Conrad

"Ow, Shawn! What the hell was that for?" I yell.

Stanford Shawn, as Laurel called him, rammed a pickleball straight at my chest in the middle of the match. We were playing a 1v1 match as a study break before our pathology exam on Monday. We haven't hardly had any free time between studying for class quizzes, working endless hours, and hammering all of the path content possible before 9:30 a.m. Monday.

And, between all of that, my free time often drifted to thoughts of what it would be like to be abroad. To be in Spain. To see her again. To see Belly.

Shawn puts his hand on his hip, exasperated, as he explains, "This entire game, your head has been off in dreamville. And, not like J. Cole man."

I retreat to go get the ball he hurled at me. He's right though. My mind was nowhere near being focused on this match. All I could think about was Belly's last letter. It came right after Christmas.

She didn't regret it, didn't regret anything. And, she wanted to see the God-awful portrait. To see me.

I told Belly years ago that she didn't realize the effect she has on people. I don't think she ever truly realized the truth of what I said. All these years, I had loved her. Even before I knew what love was as a young boy, I had loved Belly. I still love her now.

Picking up the ball from the corner of the court, I smile to myself and toss the ball up in the air. She's back in the U.S. now. Back home for a little bit of time before going back to Finch. Only a few months until Jere graduates. Only a few months until I am at Finch. Only a few months until Summer. Only a little bit of time until I see her again.

Jogging back over to Shawn, I glance up at him shaking his head. I toss him the ball and keep running. I run to the edge of my court, and grab my bag. I can't stop. I'm still running as Shawn hollers, "Where are you going Conrad?!"

Not looking back, I keep running as I scream, "To make a phone call!"