DUMB & POETIC
ACT ONE | CHAPTER TWO

" YEAH, WE'RE HERE," I hum down the crackled phone signal back to Philadelphia, small paces of my room as I steady looking back out the window that looks onto the beach, " got in about a half hour ago."

My dad hums on the other side of the phone, pretending he doesn't hate not being here — although this place was always mostly dad-free, he liked coasting in and out throughout the summer when his work let him. I think he misses it more now that it's not an option.

" well, thanks for letting me know Saw saw," the nickname I've inherited since I was little falls off his tongue as I smile softly.

" you having fun? I mean I know you've only been there for—"

I nod my head, pushing hair behind my ear as I hum " yeah dad, we're all good." I tell him, trying not to act like it's as much of an assurance as it is, "belly's at the beach, Steven's already holed up with that new video game..."

He doesn't say anything, just a soft hum as I can hear his inner turmoil about what to say next through the silence of the phone.

" and what about you? what you doing..." he asks

The sound of the floorboards creaking make my head turn, noticing Conrad already walking into my room. Wordlessly casual as he lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he waits for me to finish the call.

Turning my head back to the window I exhale " hey, I'll call you tonight.." I offer an alternative to however he'll stay silent for " told mom I'd go with her to the book store and sign some books— think belly's ditched her for the beach with Jer."

Dad hums, " oh, ok— I'll talk to you later," he tells me "have fun, stay safe.. say hi to everyone for me,"

I nod, my smile soft although he can't see it
"will do, love you dad."

his voice steadies as he exhales " love you most."

The call ends, I slip my phone back into the pocket of my jeans as I walk over to the other side of the bed. Sitting beside Conrad who's gaze falls from the ceiling to me,

His tone soft "thought I'd let you know the moms have already left for the bookshop,"

I nod my head, shrugging my shoulders "yeah, I know, but you bring my mom into any conversation with my dad..." I tell him "and it'll end soon," I say simply.

Eyes watching me, like I didn't confide him when my parents announced their divorce— how I spent an entire summer moping around, in a soft resentment for my mom who seemed fine that she had left him.

When I spent a weekend helping my dad move into an apartment barely the size of our living room, when he noticed my wandering eyes and hummed "hey, beats crashing with the parents."

He still loved her, that much as evident. How'd he hang around the doorway when he'd pick us up for weekends — talk to my mom about anything he could, how his eyes still glistened when she laughed.

But he loved my mom enough to let her go. Put her in front of him in the hierarchy of things he cared about. Part of me resents him for not fighting, not making large declarations that he loved her as all consuming as he did when they were in college. But I also admire him for letting her be happy, even if he wasn't.

He watches me, silent as he reads my expression. He does that often, sits in a silence as he waits for me to speak the thoughts he already knows I'm thinking. And even just acknowledge them even though I don't want to talk about them.

Being with Conrad was the easiest thing in the world, even if loving him was the hardest.

" enough about me," I hum, " how's Boston? How's that beautiful girlfriend of yours that is far too good for you..."

He stiffens, eyes pulling away from me as the corners of his mouth flex " we uh...we broke up,"

My face falls slightly, sitting up further. Now peering down at him "w-what when?" I ask, not liking how he's still not looking at me.

" march." he replies, like it's nothing.

" that was months ago..." I scoff slightly "why didn't you tell me?"

Eyes pinching as his head turns to look at me "why do you care? you didn't even like Audrey—" he hums, not even an accusation but a fact.

I scoff, " that's not true!"

He laughs in return " oh it's definitely true!"

Well, it was partially. If I had met her under different circumstances I would have liked her, I'm sure of it. In some other world we would have been friends, another I would have tolerated her better.

But in this world, I met her at one summer party. I came to cousins late that year, my friend from home had invited me to her lake house for weekends, and I hated how Susanna's description of Conrad's new girlfriend lived up to the truth. how beautiful she was, how sweet she was as she hugged me as I stepped into the kitchen.

How she called me the 'infamous sawyer' and told me Conrad always spoke about me back home. Glaring occasionally as she sat in Conrad's lap on a sun lounger all summer, how she laughed at anything he said ( more so how nice her laugh was to listen to).

I hated watching her sneak out of his bedroom far past when the moms went to bed, smiling and giggling as she crossed the hallway. I hated how she got to love him so openly whilst it was eating away at me with each second until I was going to tell him. If I was ever going to.

He laughs, his hand lifting to push my shoulder gently "— At least she was convinced you hated her..."

I huff, sinking down to lie beside him, " well I didn't."

Hating her, no
Hating that she had you? most definitely.

Head turning so I'm facing him — remembering how beautiful he is, the freckles painted against the bridge of his nose when it becomes summer. The mousey brown colour of his hair, the fine lines by his eyes that fold in when he smiles.

" well, either way I'm sorry.." I hum, voice low. Watching the skin fold into the creases as his lips softly curve,

" I don't need a pity party, I'm fine.." he tells me, although I don't believe him. But I don't fight him on it, instead I just nod.

Continuing to stare at him for as long as I can before it becomes something it isn't, at least for him. Whereas for me, every hold of our eyes has held a weight for years. A weight that is crushing against my chest as my lips part to let out a breath.

A weight that is pulled off violently by a voice coming down the hall, accompanied by the rapid footsteps against the creaking floorboards

" sawyer! I need to borrow your camera—"  the voice of belly stirs Conrad, a flash of something I can't read over his face.

He tries to sit up, distancing from me. But it's too late, her wide smile falters as she stands in the doorway. Beads of water falling off her body and onto the floor, soaking into the fibres of the rug.

She's not looking at me at first, instead fixed on Conrad as she pulls the towel tighter around her.

I blow out an irritated breath "fine but don't waste the film—" not looking at her but instead glancing between the weird eye contact they hold.

Her eyes all big and wide slip from Conrad to me as she nods. I notice the lump in her throat as it travels down in a dry swallow. Moving further in the room as she grabs the camera that sits on the dresser, most likely knowing it's the first thing I unpack when we get here.

The flickering between my little sister's eyes between me and Conrad doesn't go unnoticed, to either of us.

"I'm being serious bells, the closest film shop isn't for miles—"

She rolls her eyes, voice a little more brash "I won't waste your precious film sawyer!" she scoffs, not making eye contact with me as she slides back out the room.

I turn to Conrad, expecting him to be looking at me with a gritted teeth expression at belly's sudden abruptness. But he's not, instead he's looking at the empty doorway she just wandered out of.

It makes me feel like I've been oblivious, which makes me feel like shit. Does he not understand that whatever feelings he so obviously harbouring inside is killing me, even if I wasn't fucking drowning in my love for him (which I find hard fo believe there's a universe where I'm not).

Belly, my little sister having a crush on my best friend is one thing, but him also having one on her (maybe, possibly?) — that would kill me.

"I'm gonna outside," I hum, sliding off the bed and walking towards the door, his eyes pan up to me as I tilt my head "coming?"

He nods, wordlessly following behind me — and it makes me feel a little better. That despite whatever is or isn't going on with him and belly, I'm the one he still follows behind. I'm the one whose hand brushes against his as it hits the bannister.

I'm the one who he falls into as I huddle my knees to my chest as I sit on the sun lounger, the one who he lets run their fingers through this hair without a word or trying to move away. I'm the one he stays like that with until the moms call for us to set the table for dinner.

Is that selfish? does it make me a bad person?

Maybe it does, but I guess love does that to a person who has been waiting on him for the last eight years.

ELLIE SPEAKS

yes!! belly still crushes on Conrad in this book!! and she definitely attempts to push sawyer and Conrad further apart in season one!!!

belly Conklin is the #1 Sonrad hater & I will die on that hill!!!

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