Everything Changes-The Summer I Turned Pretty

Fourteen

Sitting at the island is Steven, empty handed. Any time he was in the kitchen, he was always eating something. But who cares if he's acting off this morning? I don't.

I'm about to turn around and go back upstairs when he looks up from the marble countertop and releases a deep exhale.

"Kris," Steven says quickly. "Please, don't leave. Wait. Hear me out," he begs.

I roll my eyes and stand in the doorway, leaning against the wide door frame. I raise my eyebrows and gesture for him to continue.

I watch him cringe slightly. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault that you're hurt and–"

"Shh," I say loudly, putting a finger over my mouth and turning around to make sure neither Mom nor Laurel was coming downstairs. "It barely hurts. Carry on."

"Still," Steven continues. "I was a jerk. I was in charge of watching you and I shooed you away."

"C'mon Steven." I'm getting frustrated at the way he said he had to watch me."I am not a baby. I think you all need to understand that. I'm sorry that I'm not turning sixteen this summer like Belly, but big deal! I'm more mature than you think." My hands are crossed and I'm closer to Steven now. I didn't even realize I left my spot against the wall.

"I know. You're my friend, and I should've treated you that way at the party too."

I don't know what to say, so I just nod.

"If anyone should be watched, it should be Belly," Steven says, his usual joking tone reentering his speech. For some reason hearing him sound more like himself again makes me feel a little better. "You know, with a boy and all...and you? You're just harmless little Kristin."

"Whatever, Steven," I try to still sound annoyed, but I can't help releasing a chuckle. "You want me to start being more rebellious, I'll ask Conrad for advice."

My statement makes both of us quiet and Steven's smile fades again. I suddenly notice how upset Steven is about Conrad's new behavior too. I never thought about it before, but even though Conrad is physically here, he hasn't been emotionally. It must be like dealing with a summer without his best friend.

"He'll be better, Steven," I tell him. "I think he just has a lot on his mind, but I talked with him last night and..."

I stop when I see Steven shaking his head. "No, it's not that. I mean, of course I'm worried about Conrad, but don't you start acting like him too," he says.

"I was joking, dork." I poke his shoulder and smile, but he has little reaction.

"I'm serious, Kris. Conrad's different, Belly's different. Stay the way you are, okay? Stay...what's the word I'm looking for...innocent?"

"Really?"

"Not like that!" he raises his hands in surrender. "Please don't hate me again. I just mean that you don't read too far into things, you see them as they are. I like that about you."

"Okay," I say quieter than I mean to. My hands are suddenly a little sweaty and I feel embarrassed. But at the same time, I'm enjoying what Steven's saying to me. That he notices things, that he likes me how I am. In all, I feel confused.

"Okay," Steven echos. "So, do we hug it out?"

I laugh and he gives me a funny look. Hugging it out was something Mom always made us do after we fought. But I have a feeling that it means something a little different to Steven now.

"How about a fist bump?" I suggest instead. "You know, 'cause we aren't six anymore."

"Oh, yeah, right." Now Steven's the one who laughs, but his laughter comes sharper than usual. Forced. His face is flushed.

"What's goin' on in here?" Jeremiah asks, appearing without me noticing.

I shrug, kind of wondering the same thing, but not wanting to share any of it. I needed to think about it for a while. Maybe I would need to talk to Steven again to clear things up.

But I kind of liked the way things ended, Steven basically complimenting me and then blushing.

"Grabbing some grub," Steven says before I can say anything. He's looking back to normal and acting like it too, already clowning around with Jeremiah.

"Doesn't look like you're doing a very good job," Jeremiah says, pointing at the empty counter in front of us. He opens the fridge and peers inside. "Smoothies, anyone?"

Jeremiah was the best at making smoothies. He got good at it when he learned how to make a Hangover Healer, as he called it, for Dad and Conrad. Then he just started adding things of his own preferences: juices, yogurts, fruits.

"Count me in. I'll have one with those strawberries," I say, pointing at the self that lined eye level with Jeremiah.

"Steven?" Jere asks.

"Put some peaches in it for me!" he says.

Jeremiah shoots him a thumbs up and grabs the strawberries and peaches, and blueberries as his own choice. He avoids Dad's expensive blender and pours all the fruit in the cheap one along with some vanilla yogurt and orange juice.

It takes longer to blend than Dad's would've, but before I know it there are three full glasses on the counter, with some leftover in the pitcher.

"This is so good, Jere," I say. I'm glad that he hasn't brought up anything from yesterday the way Mom and Steven had. Jeremiah was forgiving and forgetful, things in the past stayed there. That was one of my favorite parts about him.

The blender must have woken Conrad up because he stumbles down the steps with his hand pressed against his forehead. He doesn't say anything about a headache though, just heads towards the blender for his own serving.

He pours himself a glass and takes a long sip through a straw. "New hangover recipe, Jeremiah?" he asks.

Jere, who was busy conversing with Steven, looks at Conrad and his eyes grow wide. "No."

"What's wrong?" Conrad asks slowly, looking at his smoothie. Then I realize, too.

Jeremiah gets up and takes the cup from Conrad's hands. "Peaches," he says and facepalms. "Con, I'm sorry. I shoulda paid attention,"

"No," Conrad shrugs him off and clears his throat. "You're fine. I'll just go take some Benadryl and go back to bed."

Conrad was allergic to peaches. Not deathly but bad enough to make him very uncomfortable. We found out over ten years ago, when one summer all of us went for a drive to an orchard. We picked pears and apples and peaches. In the car, Mom let us all pick one fruit to eat on the way home, and Conrad chose a peach.

I don't remember all the details, but I do remember that he broke out in hives all over and cried from the itchiness in his eyes and throat. He didn't eat another piece of fruit for the rest of the summer and when we went back home at the end of August, Mom had a doctor appointment scheduled to test for allergies. Turns out he's only allergic to peaches.

"Do you want me to get Mom?" Jere asks.

"I'm eighteen, I'll survive." I could already see a rash break out around his lips. "From now on, you can name that recipe your Poisonous Peach smoothie," Conrad says before leaving.

Steven laughs but Jeremiah and I look at each other. I think he's surprised at how well Conrad handled the situation.

"Relax, Jere," I say. "Connie's fine."

Jeremiah nods and allows himself to smile a little. Then he dumps Conrad's smoothie and the rest of the pitcher down the drain. "When you guys finish, wash your cups."

"Okay, Mister Sanitation," Steven jokes.

"Don't make me come up with a new nickname for you, Steve-O," Jeremiah warns with a smile.

I finish my smoothie, put my glass in the dishwasher, and decide to get dressed. I have to look nice today, because it's another debutante day.