Where do we go now?

“‘Cause now, I'm half of myself here without you. You're the best in my life and I lost you. And we had no control when it fell through.”

When I woke up from my slumber, I found myself in a dizzying haze, my head still throbbing from last night’s bottle of tequila. The ache in my heart persisted after I gave Conrad the chance to break my heart a thousand times over again. Being unexpectedly shaken up by my mother of all people plunged me into a daydream-like state of confusion and loss. 

For my entire life, my mother had become a steady force, a constant presence— sensitive, yet rigid and outspoken. Secretly, I always wished that Susannah could be my mother in another life, this comforting spirit with a warm heart. But when she died, Susannah left an irreplaceable void within me, leaving me with an empty space. As my mother’s hand struck my face in a harsh slap, I winced and fought back tears. She had never done that before. Its echo throughout the summer house was how I knew Conrad and Jeremiah had been listening too. I was embarrassed of myself. I wanted to apologize to my mother; if she said she didn’t mean what she said, then I would, too. But she didn’t, she just stared at me with pained eyes. I was afraid. And then I started to cry.

This battle to keep the beach house overwhelmed my dying heart. I wished someone was here to tell me how to pick up all the pieces, mend my relationship with both of Susannah’s boys. I wished Susannah was here. Throughout the week, I struggled in a sea of uncertainty, grappling with my feelings. I had loved Conrad Fisher for my whole life. I had wished for him among starry nights that he could love me the way I loved him. Maybe, it was all a lie. A dream. Knowing he had heard me argue with my mother haunted me completely.

I couldn’t bear to look at Conrad, and my mother now someone, once dependable, had become someone distant. In the wake of Susannah’s death, she was barely around for Steven and me. She was so consumed by her own grief, she hadn’t stopped and considered how all of this would be affecting us. Maybe that’s what hurt the most, knowing we were all hurting. My mother disappeared into her office, barely eating or sleeping. Not once did she show up at my volleyball matches, failing to be the parent Steven and I desperately needed in the aftermath of Susannah’s death.

When Julia finally gave in, persuaded by my mother to pull out from the deal, today, of all days, I felt a glimmer of hope. It was as if a fleeting promise for the future emerged— for college, for endless summers in the beach house, chasing azure waves in Cousins, for Conrad and Jeremiah. But Conrad and I hadn’t been okay for a long time now. 

Getting Conrad to Stanford University would be the last thing I do for Conrad Fisher. Once we did this, I would finally let him go. After we spoke behind bushes and seas, we agreed to just be friends— whatever that means. We’ve never been just that. Once Conrad transfers to Stanford, on his way to becoming a doctor, maybe we can finally let each other go. Maybe I can be free.

Yet, sometimes hearts often chart their own plans for the future. After dedicating hours upon hours to help Conrad to prepare for his biology final, a sense of wholeness enveloped me. If I let myself, I could be happy. Complete. Everything else seemed insignificant compared to this. With the beach house being ours again, this renewed sense of hope swept over me through shimmering Venus stars and against the backdrop of sandy hair.

Gazing back at the beach house while driving away, I could feel my heart slipping away. Thoughts of cherished summers there mingled with the realization that Susannah wouldn’t be there anymore. The journey from Cousins Beach to Boston University felt like a glimmer of hope in the starry night. I was genuinely smiling, and our karaoke rendition of “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty in Conrad's car felt more right than ever. Exploring Finch with Jeremiah felt indescribably perfect at that moment, my best friend for as long as I’d known. As we ran across his campus, I felt optimistic and hopeful for our future. Jeremiah and I could be something if we let ourselves— if he let it be something real, raw and genuine.

Standing in the Finch gymnasium, I started dreaming about what it would be like to be with Jeremiah. I thought about late-night study sessions, Jeremiah attending all of my volleyball matches, and 2 o’clock in the morning pizza runs. Yet, in the back of my head, Conrad's presence lingered— distant and detached. Waves of sadness for what could have been with Conrad washed over me. But we couldn’t be together, at least not right now. He had let me go. 

Returning to our parking spot in front of Brown’s campus, I felt this immediate magnetic pull toward Jeremiah, like a wanting and needing for him. A longing for him, a craving, like we could be something if we took a chance. Brushing my fingertips against Jeremiah’s sun-kissed skin, I realized that everything was different now. I had to tell him how I felt before he was gone. Before the moment was over; he had to know. “I want you. Do you still?” I asked in a gentle whisper, and even in one summer, we weren’t the same people we used to be. A newfound hope for us lingered. I couldn’t let go of Jeremiah now; I didn’t want to hurt him the way Conrad hurt me. “Yeah, I still,” he responded. Then we kissed intensely like we hadn’t kissed another person in a long time. It was as if he was drowning, and I was the air he needed to breathe. Two people who, after all this time, could finally be something genuine. Tangible, raw, and vulnerable.

Abruptly, the sound of a loud throat-clearing pierced the moment, tearing Jeremiah and me apart. I turned and my heart sank at the sight of Conrad standing before us, his gaze fixated onto Jeremiah and me. The pain etched across his face was a dagger to my heart; it killed me to see him like this. Conrad’s face was white, and the weight of it all seemed to seep into my very being. I didn’t understand how this boy could still affect me like this. We had shared our hearts, kissed beneath the stars, loved each other deeply— I knew it. 

As belief mingled with pain, I recognized that no words could mend what was broken. The hope I had for the summer house, Conrad, my future with Jeremiah, suddenly wavered— uneasy. At some point, it was as if Conrad Fisher and I were strangers lost in a crowded room, yet here, on his campus, wearing his Brown pullover sweater, we were just us in the darkness. Fragile and fragmented.

I wanted to evict him from my heart, to erase the pain we caused each other. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t erase Conrad and everything we once were. It dawned on me then that we were forever tied together by an invisible string.