ephemeral [ Conrad Fisher ]

35

THE cool morning air embraced me as I laced up my running shoes. I needed to escape the confines of my room, the tightness in my throat convincing me I couldn't breathe. The dawn was still a whisper on the horizon as I ventured out for a run, hoping the rhythm of my footsteps could drown out the echoes of last night.

The path unfolded before me, a ribbon of pavement winding through the quiet, pre-dawn stillness. As I ran, the rhythmic pounding of my feet on the pavement became a mantra, a desperate attempt to outrun the weight that pressed against my chest.

Amidst the solitude of my run, I unexpectedly encountered Liam. His easy smile greeted me, unaware of the turmoil that churned beneath the surface.

"Liam," I called, breathless from both the run and the weight on my chest.

He turned, and a small smile played on his lips. "Lennox, what brings you here so early?"

An impulse, a spiteful spark, led me to invite him to be my dance partner for the upcoming debutante ball. As the words left my lips, I felt a pang of satisfaction, a small act of defiance against the shadows that clung to me.

Later, at the country club, the grandeur of the ballroom unfolded around me. The crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow, and the strains of a waltz whispered through the air. Liam stood beside me, a willing partner in this orchestrated dance. As we moved through the steps, his hand firm against mine, I tried to lose myself in the dance, to escape the memory of Conrad and Belly leaning close on the dock. But I couldn't. What had in the moment, left me so satisfied had begun eating me alive. The morning run, the spiteful invitation, and now the graceful twirls of the waltz — each step, each movement, was a thread woven into the tapestry of my emotions. The dance was a masquerade, a charade of poise and elegance concealing the fractures within.

My thoughts wandered, yearning for Conrad. I couldn't shake the memory of that day he had shown up while Shayla, Nicole, and I were messing around. How effortlessly he had stepped in, a seamless partner as if our chemistry and passion had been encoded in the dance itself. The memory, now a stark contrast to the clunky movements with Liam, intensified the ache in my chest.

His touch had been confident, his movements a testament to an intimacy we shared. We weren't just two people swaying to music; we were a symphony, a harmony of souls entwined in the language of dance. It was in those moments where Liam fell short that I yearned for Conrad the most, the way his eyes held mine, the way his hand rested against the small of my back, creating a warmth that lingered long after the dance had ended.

The stark contrast between that memory and the present reality with Liam was jarring. As we navigated the dance floor, I couldn't help but wish for the familiarity of Conrad's touch, the ease of our movements together. The yearning, the ache, was palpable, and each step with Liam felt like a betrayal to Conrad. I wanted to feel smug, to feel like I was getting even, he had chosen Belly over me twice now. But I couldn't, I couldn't bring myself to feel anything other than guilt. The sinking feeling in my stomach had only intensified since I had asked Liam to step in as my partner this morning, it had worsened when I slipped out of the house and asked Jere to take me to the Country Club hours before I needed to be there because I wanted to avoid Conrad and it was at it's peak now, as Liam twirled me across the dance floor with a stupid smug grin on his lips.

I don't know why I felt so consumed with guilt, I didn't want to think about it. Not when I had let my mind wander on the ride here, not when I was almost certain I felt this way because I loved Conrad, and being here, with Liam felt like I was betraying him, and my feelings. I didn't want to think about it, because in the back of my mind, a little voice whispered that he didn't feel the same way, and that I was a fool because if he had, he wouldn't keep choosing Belly.

As the waltz neared its end, I suppressed a sigh of relief, instead I forced a smile, masking the turmoil within. The dance with Liam was over, but the echoes of Conrad's touch lingered, leaving an ache that refused to be silenced.

Just as I was regaining my composure, I noticed him. Conrad. He stood there, his eyes locking onto mine as if the world had frozen around us. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down my spine, a mixture of emotions flooding through me — guilt, confusion, longing.

Before I could process the storm brewing in his eyes, Conrad was beside me. His grip on my arm was firm, and he led me down a secluded hallway, away from the crowd. The air between us crackled with an unspoken tension, an invisible thread connecting us even as he remained silent.

"It doesn't feel good, does it?" I blurted out before he could speak, the words tinged with bitterness. "Getting picked and discarded."

Conrad winced at my words, but the tension remained. His jaw tightened, as his eyes met mine and for a moment, I saw a flash of something in his eyes — pain, regret, or perhaps both. The silence stretched between us, a fragile bridge teetering on the brink of collapse.

He tried to explain, his words rushed and tangled. My chest tightened, and I felt the weight of his hurt as he attempted to justify what had happened on the dock with Belly.

"It's not what you think, Nox," he pleaded, but the desperation in his voice only fueled the fire within me. Guilt and anger mingled, forming an unspoken tempest that raged between us.

But I couldn't let him off the hook so easily. "You know what, Conrad?" I interrupted, my voice trembling with the tears I refused to shed. "I'm tired of explanations, tired of justifications. This isn't about what I think, it's about what I saw. And what I saw hurt."

His grip on my arm loosened, a realization dawning in his eyes. Panic set in as he began to understand the magnitude of his actions. But even in the midst of my own turmoil, a surge of guilt washed over me. How could I blame him entirely when I had taken things a step further and entertained Liam, who had caused the both of us nothing but trouble this summer?

"Lennox, you've got to believe me," he pleaded, the desperation in his voice pulling at my resolve.

I turned away from Conrad, tears threatening to spill. "I don't want to hear it," I whispered, a raw honesty in my voice. "Not now." As I walked away, leaving Conrad behind in the dimly lit hallway, the echoes of the waltz became a haunting melody, a soundtrack to a moment of heartache and shattered illusions.