Everything Changes-The Summer I Turned Pretty

Twenty Three

I hardly sleep that night, but somehow I manage to catch a couple hours of rest. When I roll over and open my eyes, the sun is peeking through my windows and I feel like a zombie. Thinking eating some breakfast would give me the energy I need, I head downstairs, still in my pajamas.

I'm surprised to see Jeremiah also already downstairs, and also in a pair of sweatpants. He looks just as exhausted as me, but he raises his eyebrows enthusiastically when he sees me.

"Morning, Kris!" he says from the couch. I give him a quick wave and yawn. He must have noticed me heading towards the kitchen because he adds, "Care if I join you for breakfast?"

"Go ahead," I say, my voice hoarse as it always is in the morning. "Fruity Pebbles?"

Jeremiah agrees, and I pour us each a bowl of the same cereal. We eat in silence, and I wonder if he's thinking what I'm thinking.

First, Mom and Dad's marriage began to crumble.
Second, Conrad decided to become the number one jerk in the state of Massachusetts.

Then, Mom starts acting off. Which, I guess, she sort of has been for a while. But I assumed it was Dad or Connie or summer stress. Maybe it is. But maybe it's more. If I really think about it, she's acting similarly to how she did a few summers ago...

My stomach rolls sickeningly and I drop my spoon in my bowl.

"You okay?" Jere asks, eying me cautiously.

I consider spilling all my fears and concerns to my brother, but, what if he's never considered any of these thoughts before? What if I'm just anxious and exaggerating?

I can tell in the nervous scrunched expression on Jere's face that he's worried, and if he wasn't already before, I don't want to add anything unnecessary.

I gulp down the lump in my throat and cough. "I think I ate too fast."

Jeremiah chuckles almost genuinely. Then his attention shifts upwards toward the staircase. I turn in my chair to see what he's looking at.

Conrad's coming downstairs in navy blue slacks and a white button-down shirt. Unlike Jere's bedhead, Conrad must've taken a shower and styled his hair. I haven't seen him style his hair with gel since his freshman year, when he thought it was cool. A slight smile tugs on my lips, remembering the old Conrad, and for a moment it makes me forget the new one we're dealing with currently.

Jeremiah whistles and Conrad's face flushes. "Shut up," he says, smacking Jere's shoulders as he passes us by the counter. He grabs a banana from Mom's fruit bowl.

"You look nice," I say. "When do you have to be there to practice?"

Conrad leans on his elbows against the countertop across from us. "As soon as Belly comes down we'll leave. Then we'll come back home, change, and leave for the real thing." He rolls his eyes.

"You don't look too excited," Jere says, and I know that upsets him a little, since he wanted so badly to take Belly to the debutante ball himself.

Conrad shrugs. "What are you guys doing today?"

"Well," Jere clears his throat, apparently trying to forget the way Conrad just ignored his statement. "Number one on our to-do list was to eat breakfast. Next, we'll probably play some video games...maybe watch a movie...maybe go surfing. Kris?"

This time I'm the one to shrug. "I don't care. A slow morning sounds good to me."

"It's already almost noon," Conrad corrects me. "Actually, noon is when me and Belly are supposed to be at the club. Where the heck is she?"

"And then," Jere continues. "When you guys are at the ball, Kristin and I are having a match-off at the arcade."

Conrad purses his lips and nods. "Cool."

We hear footsteps above us and we all turn toward the stairs at the same time again. Mom and Laurel are in front, and once they begin descending the steps, I see Belly. She's in a green crop top and jean shorts with embroidered daisies. Her hair is twisted in dutch braids, which I know are courtesy of my mom.

Jere taps his fist against one of Conrad's hands, and for the first time all morning, he sounds sincere instead of sarcastic and annoyed. "Have fun today, Con."

Conrad forces a smile and says thanks. When Belly comes up to us though, his face turns a shade of pink again, and the corner of his mouth is turned up in a real grin. "Ready, Bells?"

"Ready," she answers and looks back at the moms. When Mom smiles and nods, Belly grabs Conrad's hand and pulls him towards the front door. "Let's go before we're late!"

"See ya, Belly," I say before she's out of earshot, and she turns back briefly, flashing a grin. Then the two of them are gone and I look at Jere who appears tired again.

"Video games in my room?" he says, and that's where we go.

~

After ranting for a solid half an hour about Conrad and Belly's audacity to act as though they both aren't aware of his displeasure at staying back from the ball, Jeremiah stops.

"Sorry, Kris." He shoots at a bad guy on the TV screen who was about to attack my character. "I swear I'm excited to hang out with you tonight, though."

I haven't said much the whole time he complained because I was too caught up in my own thoughts. Thoughts about Belly and Conrad and how (if?) they're suddenly a 'thing.'

Thoughts on Belly and I–are we still friends, or are we just two girls who have only known each other our whole lives and live three months out of every year in the same beach house where we not only share a bedroom, but a bed?

And then of course, thoughts about Mom which still make me sick to my stomach.

According to the Googling I did last night, a recurrence of breast cancer has only a 10% chance of happening, although the chances are higher only a couple years after remission. Mom's light appetite, earlier bedtimes, and quieter conversations with Laurel would all make sense...but still, there could be other reasons for that, couldn't there?

"Earth to Kris," I hear Jeremiah say. "I'm gonna ruin our truce and shoot you if you don't snap outta it."

I lean back on his pile of pillows behind me. "You're what?"

He laughs. "I'm gonna end our truce. You gotta pull your weight around here too, I can't be out here saving both the world and you from the villains."

"Oh. Sorry."

Jere clicks pause on the game and falls back on his pillows beside me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say quickly. Probably too quickly, unfortunately.

Jere raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth to say more, but then there's a knock on his bedroom door and Mom pushes it open, holding out a bowl of grapes for us to snack on.

"In case you guys get hungry doing..." she glances at the TV screen, which shows Jere's character aiming a gun at a man dressed in all black. "...whatever you're doing."

"Thanks, Mom! You're the best." Jeremiah takes the bowl and shoves a handful of grapes in his mouth right away.

The grapes are large and green and crunchy, my favorite. But I barely notice, instead suddenly paying attention to Mom's thinner frame and paler skin.

"Enjoy and have fun, sweeties," Mom says, leaving the room with a smile.

As the door closes, Jere faces me again. I'm not sure what expression I have plastered on my face, but Jeremiah must notice my concern. His delight in the snack disappears and he releases a tight sigh."Kris, we don't know-"

"Stop it. Please," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut before the tears begin to flow.