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RED, WHITE, AND BLUE

act one ━ chapter seven

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━ SUSANNAH FISHER ━
july third, 2022

THERE WAS SOMETHING IN THE AIR IN COUSINS IN THE BUILD-UP TO JULY FOURTH. Carefree excitement, aniticipation, and a pinch of salt. August should have expected for a coastal town like Cousins to look as though it was gearing up for war the day before the big holiday but nothing could prepare her for the rush that the pancake house experienced.

Evan had informed her that they were shut on the fourth, so the third of July was pretty much their busiest day of the year. But after slaving away over a stove for six hours, she was grateful for the guarantee that she wasn't going to be asked to work the next day.

That being said, August and Louise had no plans for July Fourth. This holiday usually called for big family gatherings and massive celebrations. Now, they had the house for a party, but no one to invite. August had noted that since they moved in, the house had remained very still and undisturbed. She knew she had made some good friends, but she didn't consider what moving around so much would do for her mom's social life.

Louise Jacobs was a very bubbly person and did not struggle to make friends in every state they lived in but it was summer now ─ a time for big open spaces, pitchers of cocktails, and reading different books on separate towels. And July Fourth was meant to be spent with as many people as possible.

Because she didn't have much else to do with her day now that her shift was over, August decided to go for a surf.

The waves were gentle, but even floating on the white tipped surface was enough for August. She liked to have the salt in her hair and the wind in her face and the tender stroke of the tide on her toes.

Before she could make it to the shoreline, however, a familiar blonde boy called out to her from the sand.

Jeremiah was sunbathing at the top of the beach, a towel beneath his body. He wore sunglasses over his eyes and bright turquoise swimming trunks. The beach was empty and their houses were next door ─ there was no way he wouldn't spot her.

And while a solo surf would have been nice, she had plenty of those in winter to look forward to.

Jeremiah jogged over to her, discarding his phone and other belongings. Once he made it over to where she stood with her feet in the damp sand, the waves lapping over her toes, Jeremiah motioned to her surfboard.

"Let me go get my board," he said, before holding up a finger in indication for her to wait.

And she did. Two minutes later, Jeremiah returned with a bright pink board. It looked funny next to her sage coloured board, but at least she wouldn't lose him.

The two of them began to wade into the water, sliding their bodies onto their boards and using their hands as paddles, making it farther and farther out.

Jeremiah looked as though he was struggling at first, like bambi on ice. But once he got a feel for the waves and caught his balance, they came to a rest on their boards, some way out from the shore, overlapping their boards so that they could take a moment to pause.

"I asked my mom and she said she'd love to have you and Louise over for July Fourth," Jeremiah told her. "She's kind of obsessed with hosting."

"I feel like I'm already intruding an awful lot on your family gatherings," August chuckled nervously.

Jeremiah swatted an arm across the air in dismissal. "The more the merrier."

August couldn't argue with that, and since she had just been thinking about how lonely it might feel with just her and her mom on the biggest day of the summer, how could she possibly say no? Besides, when a woman liked to host, that meant good food and a good time.

August sighed, "You're too good to me, Jeremiah."

"What can I say?" He smirked before slapping the water, sending a spray in her direction.

The splash prompted her to do the same before they were off like rockets, sailing towards the horizon, waiting for the perfect wave.

Conrad was reading at his desk when he caught a glimpse from his window of two figures floating just above the surface. When he realised it was August and Jeremiah, Conrad couldn't look away. He watched them from his bedroom window, wondering desperately what they were saying to each other and wishing desperately to show August that he was still a far better surfer than his brother.

But what hurt the most was what happened later in the evening, when Conrad asked his mother who would be at their annual July Fourth barbeque. Susannah had been preparing dinner, Conrad sitting on a stool in front of her. She listed off the usual people, delivering the disappointing news that Adam, the boys' father, would not be in attendance.

But then she added, "And our new neighbours. Louise and Autumn, is it, Jere?"

"August," Jeremiah corrected from the next room over in the living room.

Conrad wanted to be the one to correct his mother. He had, after all, known August before Jeremiah had, and it felt wrong that she was asking Jeremiah for the details about her.

Susannah then turned back to Conrad and smiled. "I didn't get the chance to meet them on Belly's birthday, so Jere thought it would be a nice idea if they came over."

Conrad's chin jutted out without him thinking much about his mannerisms. "Jere invited them?"

"Yeah," Jeremiah called out from the couch, his eyes not leaving his phone screen.

That must have been the conversation the two of them had shared earlier that day on their boards.

Jeremiah was racking up brownie points with August, all while Conrad could barely get a word in without reminding her how much of a dick she was.

Conrad would have liked to have been the one to invite her. Now he almost wished she wasn't coming, just so Jeremiah didn't get to be the good guy.

When was it Conrad's time to be the good guy?

❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐

AUGUST HAD TOLD HER MOTHER BRIEFLY ABOUT THE BOY SHE had met at surf camp in Miami. She didn't go into detail about just how much she liked this boy or about how much he had hurt her, but she was vaguely aware that there was a boy.

And now, August was very much grateful that she hadn't indulged her mother in all of the other stuff. This was because August was unsure what her mother would do if she knew that the boy currently greeting them at his front door was the very same boy who had given her daughter her very first heartbreak.

August practically seized up when Conrad's wonky smile opened the door to them. She was scared of what her mother would think of him, even when she was unaware of the history that passed between the boy in the doorway and the girl on the porch.

His lips pressed against each other, Conrad stepped aside to let the two women in, introducing himself to Louise.

August then must have zoned out because she didn't compute the conversation that followed between her mother and ex-boyfriend. She was too busy being enamoured by the woman standing in the entryway.

Long, healthy blonde locks. Worn, but tanned skin. The sweetest eyes and an even sweeter smile. August could see a little bit of Conrad in her. She was already holding out her arms to embrace August, even before asking for an introduction.

"You must be August," the woman in a long red sundress beamed. "I'm Susannah. It's lovely to meet you."

If younger August Jacobs knew that she was meetingConrad Fisher's actual mother, she'd probably combust and cease to exist.

But not just meeting, they were hugging. Susannah squeezed her tight like they were old friends. Instantly, August knew this was a woman who was loved by many.

When Susannah finally pulled away, she kept August at arm's length to give the girl a second to breathe. "Thank you for having me and my mom. We really appreciate it."

"Oh, it's nothing," Susannah waved her off, sliding her arm over August's shoulder and leading her into the kitchen, Louise and Conrad not far behind.

The hallway opened out into a wide kitchen with natural light streaming in from the large windows and glass doors. Outside, on the porch, tables and tables of food lined the poolside, wrapped in fabrics of red, white, and blue. Decorative bunting ran along the marquee, and everyone was dressed in the same shades. It was the most put-together Fourth of July August had ever seen. But from the welcome basket they had received from Susannah, August really shouldn't be surprised.

Jeremiah greeted her before she could make it out onto the decking, followed by Belly, while Louise thanked the host.

"Jeremiah told me you moved from Minnesota, is that right?" Susannah asked.

Louise nodded, "Quite the change of scenery."

Susannah beamed with pride at her son, "I'm so glad Jere took you under his wing, August."

August found Jeremiah's eyes. Conrad hovered uncomfortably in the kitchen. He managed to make his way onto the porch through a small gap within the group but kept his distance once outside, leaning against a pillar.

"Me too," August said.

Susannah squeezed the girl's side. "You probably need a familiar face after all that moving around."

Conrad caught her eye immediately. He was the familiar face she had in Cousins, but nobody knew it.

He was the only familiar face she had in the whole state.

But August made sure nobody noticed their brief eye contact, or the way her cheeks burned. Conrad folded his arms over his chest and stared at the ground.

August then pulled her lips taut and smiled back at Susannah. "Definitely."

❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐

"SO WHAT'S LIVING IN LONDON LIKE?"

"I don't go to school in London."

"But you said you go to school in England?"

"I don't understand why you're confused."

Steven Conklin was unlike anyone August had ever met. And clearly, August was unlike anyone he had ever met because he stared down at her like she was turning green. Clearly, England ≠ London wasn't computing in his mind.

August quickly learned that she and her mother were not, in fac,t intruding on anything as it wasn't a family affair but rather a bigger celebration. Alongside the family members, Nicole, Gigi and Shayla ("the Debs" as Laurel called them) were here too, and while Conrad and Nicole had done enough flirting in front of August than she would have liked, it was a lot more of a laid-back vibe than she had anticipated.

August had also since met John and Victoria (Belly and Steven's dad and his girlfriend), and it seemed that August was not the only one just meeting Victoria. August also gathered that July Fourth was usually celebrated in two separate parties ─ the kids going off and doing their own thing while the parents talked idly about whatever.

Conrad rounded the island and slapped a playful hand on Steven's shoulder. "Just give it up, buddy," he said. He then turned to August, brows arched and grimacing apologetically on Steven's behalf. "He clearly needs to brush up on his geography."

August pouted her lips dubiously, and her eyes pierced Conrad's. "Wouldn't we just call that general knowledge?" The simple fact that the whole country of England isn't just London? Yes.

"Okay, whatever," Steven sing-songed, taking his drink outside to reunite with Shayla by the pool.

"I have an idea," Belly announced now that her brother was out of the way. "I'm gonna need some more pomegranate juice."

She hopped off her stool and headed for the cupboard.

"What are you making?" Conrad asked.

"Pomegranate margaritas but with a twist," Belly sang.

Conrad stopped where he was. August waited for him to intervene, but instead, he said, "Well, you've got to use the good blender."

"You don't strike me as a bad influence, Conrad," August then said, feigning surprise.

Conrad's gaze collided with hers. And he winked. "Who said anything about a bad influence?"

❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐

WITH ALCOHOL IN HAND, IT APPEARED ANYTHING WAS POSSIBLE. And with the parents still up by the house, unaware of the escaped tequila, the kids saw no boundaries.

Cameron had since made an appearance, and the teens all settled on the beach, the frozen margaritas seemingly unlimited. The sky was a beautiful blue, and the waves sang them towards drunkenness. They baked in the sun and played games. They chugged their drinks and they laughed, the sound of their cackles and the clinking of the coin falling into the bowl the soundtrack of a perfect summer.

August took a second in between sips and rounds of the game to soak it all in. The sun and the waves and the fruity iciness of her drink between her lips. The feeling of belonging and finding people who wanted to stick around. That made her want to stick around.

As the day grew longer and they came up with more ways to drink more, the alcohol started to take its toll, and they retired their beach chairs back up to the house.

By four pm, the clouds had drawn nearer and the sky was becoming more grey. The smell of evening was saturating the air, and the presence of his father was only dampening Conrad's mood.

He managed to find respite when he headed to the shed at the back of the house to retrieve a football. He passed August on his way back.

She was sitting by the pool, with her feet dipped in and her blue dress pulled up to her thighs. There was so much skin exposed that Conrad had to look away at first. But he felt it would be rude to just breeze past her, so he stopped, towering over her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, curious as to why she was alone.

August didn't really have a good explanation. Instead, she just stared at the crystal clear water and the ripples on the surface where her toes swayed beneath. "I don't have a pool," she said dryly.

This made him laugh.

"Where's everyone else?" He eventually asked, passing the ball into his other hand to keep himself busy. He suddenly felt the need to fidget.

"The pier," she answered. Her neck hurt from looking up at him but she didn't look away. "Why are you here?" If he asked it, didn't that mean she could ask the same question?"

Conrad lifted the ball a little higher. "Jere wanted to play football."

"You know in England," August said, "that's not a football."

"I know I'm not Steven," Conrad winced, "but here I was thinking we were in America."

August shrugged, looking away to give her a better chance at hiding her reddening cheeks. The wind ran its hands through her hair, but she made no move to get it out of her face. Was he flirting with her? Or was she being delusional?

"Could have fooled me," she finally said, tutting the roof of her mouth with her tongue. She then pushed herself to stand, her feet causing a break in the water. It trickled off her skin in a stream. "Well," she sighed, straightening out her dress and retrieving her shoes, "I hope you're a better footballer than you are a surfer."

And she plucked the ball from out of his hands.

Conrad faked aghast. He then took a step closer to her. A risk, but one he didn't regret. "Is that a challenge?" He quirked a brow. He smirked.

August suddenly felt very hot. Her blood thumped in her ears, and he was too close to her. She quickly reminded herself of everything that had happened between them and that this wasn't how they should act, everything considered.

Ignoring any plans she had just mentally made to play football with Conrad Fisher, she lightly shoved the ball back into his chest. "I don't play football." It was for the better. She wasn't going to be friendly with him.

Conrad bit down on the disappointment flooding his chest, where he hugged the ball a little bit tighter.

❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐

CONRAD FIRMLY BELIEVED THAT THE ENTIRETY OF HIS FOURTH OF JULY would have been so much better if August had just played football with him. Not with Jeremiah, but with him.

Because everything seemed to go wrong after that.

In short:

Belly got drunk and exposed her brother for cheating. She tripped and fell, sending the celebratory cake flying. Louise, Laurel, and Suannah spent the next fifteen minutes trying to pry icing out of the decking.

Belly was consequently put to bed.

Nicole left. Conrad wasn't entirely sure why, because no one would give him the details.

Everyone appeared to be pissed off at Adam, which at least gave Conrad the freedom to be as well.

He fought with his brother, got covered in dirt, all while the effects of the alcohol had long since worn off.

Conrad just wanted to go to bed.

Happy Fourth, he thought.

❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐

ONCE THE MARGARITAS WERE PUT AWAY, AUGUST AND JEREMIAH WERE attached at the hip for the rest of the evening. Ask Conrad, he would know, he had been watching them like hawks since August arrived at his front door.

They sat next to each other at dinner, and offered to clean the dishes (they were the only two who volunteered). They even played card games on the decking once "The Debs" and Cameron had made their departure. Even when Conrad escaped to his bedroom, he could hear their laughter. He was up two flights of stairs and had his window sealed closed, and yet they were still haunting him.

But it was because he was so adept at August's whereabouts that he knew the exact moment she was no longer in Jeremiah's vicinity. Conrad decided to seize this opportunity.

She was sitting on the grass of his lawn, farthest from the house and closest to the ocean, just as the fireworks show started. The sun had sunk behind the horizon, painting the sky a dark blue. It was scattered with stars, the moon full and bright.

Conrad waited until the first firework was in the air before he slipped away from the gathering on the porch, walking away from the house and towards August.

Her neck was craned backwards, her dark hair flowing down her back. She looked so still and peaceful. Far enough away from the rowdy crowd on the decking but close enough to where the fireworks were being lit on the jetty that she was still immersed in their colour and beauty.

The chaos surrounding the margaritas and the squashed cake and the messy familial relations had passed. Conrad had waited out the storm and now felt like the right time to finally speak to August, as he hadn't really all day.

August, on the other hand, couldn't figure out why Conrad would want to spend time with her voluntarily. She wasn't lonely; she simply wanted to enjoy the fireworks in solitude.

But then she realised something she hadn't really accepted in years ─ Conrad Fisher did once like her. A lot. She often got so bogged down with how their relationship ended that she never thought about the good side of it. How much he made her laugh. How much he complimented her. The generous acts of kindness he used to do for her.

August found it hard to believe that none of that still lingered within him.

Once he was comfortable on the grass, Conrad retrieved a cigarette from his back pocket. Snapping the lighter until it grew a perfectly round flame, he lit it as it hung from his mouth.

After taking a puff, Conrad held the cigarette out to her.

"Do you have to smoke around me?" She asked with a look of disgust.

Conrad lifted his shoulder indifferently.

It was an unfamiliar sight to see. He never used to smoke, but now this was the second time she had been with him while he did. It reminded her that so many milestones had passed since they last saw each other. A whole lifetime, in the grand scheme of things.

August pressed her palms into the grass and shifted a little to the right so that she was another few inches away from him. The hatred practically radiated off of her, and he didn't know what to do with himself. But after the close call with the football and the stroke of flirting, August didn't want to make any mistakes from this point on. No signs of weakness. No falling for the Conrad Fisher charm.

They watched the fireworks in silence at first. The overhead bangs were loud enough to fill the gap between them that had opened up. They filled the sky with sprays of colour like a paint can, flicking its contents across the navy canvas.

August knew Conrad had sat next to her because he had something to say. So she waited for that to come.

"So."

He said it very matter-of-factly, and August knew he just wanted a reason to make conversation, and that this was the only thing he could think of to announce it.

"So," she sighed. August had exhausted all conversation she wanted to make with Conrad Fisher. Anything else felt forced.

"You and Jeremiah are close."

It felt like a slap in the face.

She had a feeling Conrad was suggesting, something but she wasn't prepared to entertain it.

"I don't have a thing for your brother," August stated plainly.

Conrad's brows rose to his hairline as he took a swig from his bottle.

She turned to face him. "I don't have a thing for your brother," she repeated, just to assert herself.

Despite the events of Belly's birthday, August was sure that she meant this. Just because Jeremiah was the first friend she made in Cousins did not mean that she had a crush on him. He was the wrong Fisher brother, after all. She couldn't fancy both of them.

Conrad shrugged, swallowing his mouthful of beer. He feigned nonchalance until it earned him a shove in the side.

"I'm serious, Fisher," August said, but she found herself laughing. It seemed that all of the happy emotions she once felt around Conrad had been bottled up for so many years that they were now coming up when she least expected them.

And he was laughing back, swaying where she had playfully pushed him.

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, holding out his palms. "I believe you."

August huffed and straightened herself out, refocusing on the fireworks. "No, you don't," she sulked.

Conrad raised his brows allusively. "Someone's defensive."

"I'm not being─"

Realising her mistake, with a questioning Conrad Fisher staring back at her, August abruptly cut herself off.

"Never mind," she said defeated.

Conrad laughed it off, the cigarette positioned between his pearly white teeth. He took another puff before stubbing it out on the grass beside him.

Now that some of the tension between the two of them seemed to have eased, Conrad decided to broach a topic he was too nervous to ask her when they were initially reunited.

"Do you still surf?"

Conrad had his suspicions about what the answer to this question was, especially after he had seen her and Jeremiah out on the water the day before. The August he knew lived and breathed surfing. There was no way she would give it up even if all the oceans dried up. But considering surfing was what had brought them together and then separated them just as quickly, he had been too anxious to bring it up.

But August just nodded. Surfing was her favourite thing, even when talking about it with her least favourite person.

"Hm mhm," she said, tucking her knees in closer to her chest. "I wouldn't give it up for the world."

Talking about surfing, he noticed, made her whole body relax. The tension seeped from her shoulders, and an absent smile appeared on her face.

In this peaceful state, Conrad braved the suggestion: "We should surf," he said. "Together, I mean. At some point."

He mentally slapped himself. He rarely stumbled over his words (not even in front of Nicole), but something about August made him nervous. She had always had that effect on him.

"Okay," was all she said.

It was certainly better than a no so he smiled and took it as the win it was.

But then she said, "But don't expect to be better than me anymore."

Conrad smirked. They were finally talking about the past.

"I was never better than you," he said honestly.

August noted how she and Jeremiah had had such a similar conversation. Her questioning his skills, him teasing her back. But this time, August thought, it felt more natural. Her and Conrad had, after all, really seen each other surf. They had surfed alongside each other, giving each other pointers, for months straight. Speaking about surfing with Jeremiah felt unsure and premature. This felt familiar and right.

August knew this would be hard for Conrad to admit (considering he had never done it three years ago), and she appreciated that more than the sentiment itself.

When August then smiled back at him, it was like no time had passed. He soaked in that smile, worried it would blow away with the wind or disappear with a single pop of the far-off fireworks. After all, a couple of days ago, August Jacobs hated his guts. And maybe she still did, he was unsure, but this was a sure-fire way of knowing the feelings she was harbouring for him weren't made up completely of negative emotions.

And that, to Conrad, was a sign of progress. He wasn't sure if they could ever go back to being friends after everything that had happened, but progress was progress.

While August was distracted with the bursts of sparkling colour above them, Conrad took a moment to look at her. And, he found, the longer he stared, the more she appeared to be a figment of his imagination. Something he dreamt.

Her skin was smooth, her eyes big and wide, the reflection of the fireworks dancing in her pupils. She smiled subconsciously, without realising it. Even with him beside her, she was smiling. Her chest rose and fell in gentle waves, and she appeared so peaceful, like something that only existed in fairytales.

Conrad didn't even mind if she noticed him staring.

Which she did.

August stretched her legs out in front of her, reminding Conrad that she wasn't some Greek statue.

She leaned her arms behind her back and turned to him, "Your mom certainly knows how to throw a party."

Conrad tipped his head back as a response and silence found its way back to them. The fireworks roared above them, followed by a chorus of laughter and sighs of awe. Conrad had almost forgotten about the rest of the party and the margaritas and everything else that had happened this Fourth of July.

He felt like the night had only started when he sat down next to August.

And because of that, he just had to ask.

"Do you hate me?"

It seemed to come out of the blue and she had to hide the fact that her natural reaction to that question was to flinch. Conrad had always been one to be blunt. But if he wanted an answer, she owed him at least that much.

God, how much she wanted to hate him. How much she wanted to shout at him for what he put her through. How much she just wanted to ignore him and go on about her life.

But she couldn't do that. As much as she tried, seeing the boy she once fell in love with, sitting peacefully at her side as they watched the Fourth of July fireworks, couldn't possibly make her hate him.

It was just like that fateful summer, three years ago. They had watched the fireworks from the roof of his cabin. They had used a step ladder to climb up the wooden building and had scaled the roof's tiles to get the best view. Everyone else had stayed by the water to watch them but the two of them had wanted to be alone. So they took snacks and a drink and watched from the highest point in camp.

If she blinked for long enough, August was transported to that very spot three years ago.

August knew she couldn't lie, he'd see right through it. And there was no point lying anyway. It was never going to be a one-word response but she didn't want to explore that deep into her emotions right now.

Instead, she just sighed. "No," she said. "I don't hate you, Conrad."

And when he smiled back at her, his teeth perfectly white and straight, his dimples sloped and deep, all she could think was how could she possibly hate him?

❀。🐠 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 🌊 ❀°。🌺 .ೃ࿐