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“Oh, wow. You guys don’t even look alike?” Sophie was one of those people who ended her sentences with a question mark. I could already tell that if I knew her, I would hate her.
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Jeremiah said. “Did Con say anything to you, Sophie?”
She liked the way he called her by her name. She said, “I think he said he was going to the beach, to surf or something? He’s so crazy.”
Jeremiah looked at me. The beach. He was at the summer house.
When Jeremiah called his dad, I sat on the edge of Conrad’s bed and pretended not to listen. He told Mr. Fisher that everything was fine, that Conrad was safe in Cousins. He did not mention that I was with him.
He said, “Dad, I’ll go get him, it’s no big deal.”
Mr. Fisher said something on his end, and Jeremiah said, “But Dad—” Then he looked over at me, and mouthed, Be right back.
He headed into the hallway and shut the door behind him.
After he was gone, I lay back onto Conrad’s bed and stared up at the ceiling. So this was where he slept every night. I’d known him all my life, but in some ways, he was still a mystery to me. A puzzle.
I got out of bed and went over to his desk. Gingerly, I opened the drawer and found a box of pens, some books, paper. Conrad was always careful with his things. I told myself I wasn’t spying . I was looking for proof. I was Belly Conklin, Girl Detective.
I found it in the second drawer. A robin’s egg blue Tiffany box stuffed way in the back. Even as I was opening it I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. It was a little jewelry box, and there was a necklace inside, a pendant. I pulled it out and let it dangle. At first I thought it was a figure eight, and that maybe he was dating some girl who ice skated—and I decided I hated her, too. And then I took a closer look, and laid it horizontal in the palm of my hand. It wasn’t an eight.
It was infinity.
Which was when I knew. It wasn’t for some girl who ice skated or for Sophie down the hall. It was for me. He’d bought it for me. Here was my proof. Proof that he really did care.
Conrad was good at math. Well, he was good at everything, but he was really good at math.
A few weeks after we started talking on the phone, when it had become more routine but no less thrilling, I told him all about how much I hated trig and how badly I was doing in it already. Right away I felt guilty for bringing it up—there I was complaining about math when Susa
“Sorry,” I’d said.
“For what?”
“For talking about my crappy trig grade when . . .” My voice trailed off. “When your mom’s sick.”
“Don’t apologize. You can say whatever you want to me.” He paused. “And Belly, my mom is getting better. She put on five pounds this month.”
The hopefulness in his voice, it made me feel so tender toward him I could have cried. I said, “Yeah, I heard that from my mom yesterday. That’s really good news.”
“So, okay then. So has your teacher taught you SOH-CAH-TOA yet?”
From then on, Conrad started helping me, all over the phone. At first I didn’t really pay attention, I just liked listening to his voice, listening to him explain things. But then he’d quiz me, and I hated to disappoint him. So began our tutoring sessions. The way my mother smirked at me when the phone rang at night, I knew she thought we were having some kind of romance, and I didn’t correct her. It was easier that way. And it made me feel good, people thinking we were a couple. I’ll admit it. I let them think it. I wanted them to. I knew that it wasn’t true, not yet, but it felt like it could be. One day. In the meantime, I had my own private math tutor and I really was starting to get the hang of trig. Conrad had a way of making impossible things make sense, and I never loved him more than during those school nights he spent with me on the phone, going over the same problems over and over, until finally, I understood too.
Jeremiah came back into the room, and I closed my fist around the necklace before he could see it.
“So what’s up?” I asked him. “Is your dad mad? What did he say?”
“He wanted to go to Cousins himself, but I told him I’d do it. There’s no way Conrad would listen to my dad right now. If my dad came, it would only piss him off more.” Jeremiah sat down on the bed. “So I guess we’re going to Cousins this summer after all.”
As soon as he said it, it became real. In my head, I mean. Seeing Conrad wasn’t some faraway pretend thing; it was happening. Just like that I forgot all about my plans to save Conrad and I blurted out, “Maybe you should just drop me off on the way.”
Jeremiah stared at me. “Are you serious? I can’t deal with this by myself. You don’t know how bad it’s been. Ever since my mom got sick again, Conrad’s been in freaking self-destruct mode. He doesn’t give a shit about anything.” Jeremiah stopped talking and then said, “But I know he still cares what you think about him.”
I licked my lips; they felt very dry all of a sudden. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Well, I am. I know my brother. Will you please just come with me?”
When I thought about the last thing I’d said to Conrad, shame took over and it burned me up inside. You don’t say those kinds of things to a person whose mother just died. You just don’t. How could I face him? I just couldn’t.
Then Jeremiah said, “I’ll get you back in time for your boat party, if that’s what you’re so worried about.”
It was such an un-Jeremiah-like thing to say that it took me right out of my shame spiral and I glared at him. “You think I care about a stupid Fourth of July boat party?”
He gave me a look. “You do love fireworks.”
“Shut up,” I said, and he gri
“All right, then.” He stood up. “I’m go
“Yeah?”
Jeremiah smirked at me. “I knew you were go
I threw a pillow at him and he dodged it and did a little victory lap to the door. “Hurry up and pee, you jerk.”
When he was gone, I put the necklace on, underneath my tank top. It had left a little infinity indentation in my hand, I’d been holding on to it so hard.
Why did I do it? Why did I put it on? Why didn’t I just put it in my pocket, or leave it in the box? I can’t even explain it. All I knew was, I just really, really wanted to wear it. It felt like it belonged to me.
chapter fifteen
Before we headed down to the car I grabbed Conrad’s textbooks and notebooks and his laptop and stuffed as much as I could into the North Face backpack I’d found in his closet. “This way he’ll be able to study for those midterms on Monday,” I said, handing Jeremiah the laptop.
He winked and said, “I like the way you think, Belly Conklin.”
On the way out, we stopped by Ari the RA’s room. His door was open and he was sitting at his desk. Jeremiah popped his head in and said, “Hey, Ari. I’m Conrad’s brother, Jeremiah. We found Conrad. Thanks for the heads-up, man.”
Ari beamed at him. “No problem.” Jeremiah made friends wherever he went. Everyone wanted to be Jeremiah Fisher’s friend.
Then we were on our way. Headed straight to Cousins, full stop. We drove with the windows down, the radio up.
We didn’t talk much, but this time I didn’t mind. I think we were both too busy thinking. Me, I was thinking about the last time I headed down this road. Only, it hadn’t been with Jeremiah. It had been with Conrad.