The Summer Of Us (Summer I Turned Pretty FanFiction)

Chapter Seven: Brothers

Conrad's POV:

I knock on the door quietly at first and then louder. No answer- figures. 

"Jere open up- it's me," I said through the thick, painted wood. 

Still no answer. 

I stood there under the illuminated doorway, looking across the vast darkened beyond. Piles of clothes, empty water bottles, and junk covered the hidden carpet. Jere was sprawled over his tangled comforter with headphones blaring, blatantly ignoring my presence. I didn't take it too personally. 

"Bacon?" I asked in my most cheery voice holding up a still-warm pan of sizzling bacon strips. Jere flipped the pillow over his face, crossing his arms tightly. Out of all the "stuff" dispersed everywhere like a previous explosion had erupted, my eyes narrowed in on a familiar picture close to his bedside. A picture of him and Belly, back when they were still dating. She must have meant a lot to him, if he had kept it all these years, even framed. Knowing Jeremiah everything was usually either stained or crumpled, yet this picture remained perfectly intact. And by this simple gesture, I knew at one point she had been his whole world. I knew this because I had done the exact same thing in my freshman year in California. I drove myself crazy missing her, seeing our photo as a constant reminder of what I had managed to fuck up. In junior year, I turned it face down in an attempt to finally forget her. The bare table was haunting more so then the picture itself. We really were brothers in some ways, I thought.

"Nice picture," I say. 

"Fuck off Conrad." He replies back, his voice muffled under the feathery pillow.

"No, I mean it, you guys look nice there. Where was that anyways? Boston?"

Shut up, I thought to myself. Shut up Conrad what are you doing, do you want to die? However, a part of me just kept talking. In hopes of finding some trace of the brother I once knew hidden somewhere deep within this tough-guy facade. 

"I'm serious Conrad, not now. I don't want to cause shit with you." 

I act like I don't hear his threats- pleads. He's hurting, I out of all people know that. An all too familiar feeling. It's funny that the one thing we had most in common would also be the thing that tore us apart. 

"Didn't mom give that shirt to Belly for her birthday one year? Huh, it's cute." I pick up the photo, pretending to examine it carefully.

The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, a football digging into my back. I get up and wipe my blood off my lower lip. Jere sits on the edge of his bed crying, his hand covering his face collecting his tears in the cracks of his palms. I cautiously sit next to him. 

"I was beginning to think you didn't have any emotions," I said looking at him, bracing myself for another big bruise. But he remained seated, his shoulder trembling with each sob. 

"I'm sorry", he whispered. 

"I'm not," I replied, Jere confusedly turns towards me. 

"By all means I get it, it sucks." 

"It's hell." He stares ahead, gaining the courage to speak, "how do you think I feel knowing that it was always you. That I didn't even have a chance. I hate you for that."

"Me too..."

...

Jeremiah's POV:

"I'll get over it...eventually," I add. Conrad looked relieved followed by a slight nod of approval. "But not here." That relief quickly drained from his face. "Dad and I were talking recently. He was willing to let us buy the house from him at a reasonable price. He said there was no point in having it in his name anymore."

"What? Like for real." His voice, suddenly perky. I could see his eyes darting from eyes to the side, processing this new information. "I told him no." 

Conrad stood up. 

"Are you fucking insane Jere, that's great news!? How could you not even talk this over with me first before you declined!? This is my house too!"

"Exactly!" I shouted back. "I told him no. I told him to offer it YOU- you and Belly as a wedding gift. That I don't want it." 

"Wait, huh?", abruptly stumbling on his words. 

"You heard me, I don't want it." I tried pushing past him, but Conrad grabbed me by the collar of what once was my best dress shirt. 

"This house is yours too, Jere. It's always been ours." I brushed him off and headed towards the door. 

"Not anymore."

He followed me down the hall. 

"What do you mean by not anymore?" His voice echoing behind me. 

"Just like it sounds," I said not looking back. 

"Wait!" He said grabbing my arm, I may have stronger but Conrad was always faster. 

"Look, I just can't be here okay? You're happy, I'm happy. Can't we just leave it." 

"No- not until you explain to me what's really going on, this is mom's house we're talking about." He says like I don't know. 

"Mom would've wanted you guys to have it." It always kind of bugged me that she was their biggest fan. But I guess in her defense she wasn't around when Belly and I had been an actual thing. I'd like to believe she'd be just as pleased.

"That's ridiculous Jere. Mom loved you."

"I never said she didn't," I respond, almost beginning to break down again. Sometimes it hurts to think about her and how much she loved us- knowing that we would never have that love again.

"...But Conrad it's just a house." He looked taken aback. This was something I thought about a lot recently considering how much my mom was on everyone's mind as the wedding drew closer. Here, she was everywhere and everyone knew it. I remember vividly that one summer Con ran away - came running back here. And I remember how much we fought for this. How it all seems so insignificant now. "It was a house full of memories, mostly good, this house was undoubtedly her." But I realized over time that she is not this house and that somehow this doesn't represent anything more than what it is. "I'm not losing her by doing this Conrad, she'll still be here even if one day this isn't." And by here I didn't mean the ground where the foundation lies, the stretch of beach which surrounds it or even Cousins itself. Here, as in our hearts where she had never really left.

...