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.
chapter sixteen
It was, without a doubt, one of the best nights of my life. Right up there with New Year’s Eve at Disney World. My parents were still married and I was nine. We watched fireworks rocket right over Cinderella’s palace, and Steven didn’t even complain.
When he called, I didn’t recognize his voice, partly because I wasn’t expecting it and partly because I was still half-asleep. He said, “I’m in my car on my way to your house. Can I see you?”
It was twelve thirty in the morning. Boston was five and a half hours away. He had driven all night. He wanted to see me.
I told him to park down the street and I would meet him on the corner, after my mother had gone to bed. He said he’d wait.
I turned the lights off and waited by the window, watching for the taillights. As soon as I saw his car, I wanted to run outside, but I had to wait. I could hear my mother rustling around in her room, and I knew she would read in bed for at least half an hour before she fell asleep. It felt like torture, knowing he was out there waiting for me, not being able to go to him. It was a crazy idea, because it was winter, and it would be freezing cold in Cousins. But when he suggested it, it felt crazy in a good way.
In the dark I put on my scarf and hat that Granna knit me for Christmas. Then I shut my bedroom door and tiptoed down the hallway to my mother’s room, pressing my ear against the door. The light was off and I could hear her snoring softly. Steven wasn’t even home yet, which was lucky for me, because he’s a light sleeper just like our dad.
My mother was finally asleep; the house was still and silent. Our Christmas tree was still up. We kept the lights on all night because it made it still feel like Christmas, like any minute, Santa could show up with gifts. I didn’t bother leaving her a note. I would call her in the morning, when she woke up and wondered where I was.
I crept down the stairs, careful on the creaky step in the middle, but once I was out of the house, I flew down the front steps, across the frosty lawn. It crunched along the bottoms of my sneakers. I forgot to put on my coat. I remembered the scarf and hat, but no coat.
His car was on the corner, right where it was supposed to be. The car was dark, no lights, and I opened the passenger side door like I’d done it a million times before.
I poked my head inside, but I didn’t go in, not yet. I wanted to look at him first. It was winter, and he was wearing a gray fleece. His cheeks were pink from the cold, his tan had faded, but he still looked the same. “Hey,” I said, and then I climbed inside.
“You’re not wearing a coat,” he said.
“It’s not that cold,” I said, even though it was, even though I was shivering as I said it.
“Here,” he said, shrugging out of his fleece and handing it to me.
I put it on. It was warm, and it didn’t smell like cigarettes. It just smelled like him. So Conrad quit smoking after all. The thought made me smile.
He started the engine.
I said, “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
He sounded almost shy when he said, “Me neither.” And then he hesitated. “Are you still coming with me?”
I couldn’t believe he even had to ask. I would go anywhere. “Yes,” I told him. It felt like nothing else existed outside of that word, that moment. There was just us. Everything that had happened that summer, and every summer before it, had all led up to this. To now.
Sitting next to him in the passenger seat felt like an impossible gift. It felt like the best Christmas gift of my life. Because he was smiling at me, and he wasn’t somber, or solemn, or sad, or any of the other s -words I had come to associate with Conrad. He was light, he was ebullient, he was all the best parts of himself.
“I think I’m going to be a doctor,” he told me, looking at me sideways.
“Really? Wow.”
“Medicine is pretty amazing. For a while, I thought I would want to go into the research end of it, but now I think I’d rather be working with actual people.”
I hesitated, and then said, “Because of your mom?”
He nodded. “She’s getting better, you know. Medicine is making that possible. She’s responding really well to her new treatment. Did your mom tell you?”
“Yeah, she did,” I said. Even though she had done no such thing. She probably just didn’t want to get my hopes up. She probably didn’t want to get her own hopes up. My mother was like that. She didn’t allow herself to get excited until she knew it was a sure thing. Not me. Already I felt lighter, happier. Susannah was getting better. I was with Conrad. Everything was happening the way it was supposed to.
I leaned over and squeezed his arm. “It’s the best news ever,” I said, and I meant it.
He smiled at me, and it was written all over his face: hope.
When we got to the house, it was freezing cold. We cranked the heat up and Conrad started a fire. I watched him squat and tear up pieces of paper and poke at the log gently. I bet he’d been gentle with his dog, Boogie. I bet he used to let Boogie sleep in the bed with him. The thought of beds and sleep suddenly made me nervous. But I shouldn’t have been, because after he lit the fire, Conrad sat on the La-Z-Boy and not on the couch next to me. The thought suddenly occurred to me: He was nervous too. Conrad, who was never nervous. Never.
“Why are you sitting all the way over there?” I asked him, and I could hear my heart pounding behind my ears. I couldn’t believe I’d been brave enough to actually say what I was thinking.
Conrad looked surprised too, and he came over and sat next to me. I inched closer to him. I wanted him to put his arms around me. I wanted to do all the things I’d only seen on TV and heard Taylor talk about. Well, maybe not all, but some.
In a low voice, Conrad said, “I don’t want you to be scared.”
I whispered, “I’m not,” even though I was. Not scared of him, but scared of everything I felt. Sometimes it was too much. What I felt for him was bigger than the world, than anything.
“Good,” he breathed, and then he was kissing me.
He kissed me long and slow and even though we’d kissed once before, I never thought it could be like this. He took his time; he ran his hand along the bottom of my hair, the way you do when you walk past hanging wind chimes.
Kissing him, being with him like that . . . it was cool lemonade with a long straw, sweet and measured and pleasurable in a way that felt infinite. The thought crossed my mind that I never wanted him to stop kissing me. I could do this forever , I thought.
We kissed on the couch like that for what could have been hours or minutes. All we did that night was kiss. He was careful, the way he touched me, like I was a Christmas ornament he was afraid of breaking.
Once, he whispered, “Are you okay?”
Once, I put my hand up to his chest and I could feel his heart beating as fast as mine. I snuck a peek at him, and for some reason, it delighted me to see his eyes closed. His lashes were longer than mine.