Archive of Our Own

I wasn't supposed to be home. 

The chemistry test had ended early, and Coach canceled afternoon practice because of the rain. I almost stopped for food on the way back to campus, but something made me drive home instead. 

The house was quiet. 

Too quiet. 

I dropped my backpack by the front door. 

"Mom?" 

No answer. 

I frowned. 

Normally, music drifted through the house—Sinatra, Joni Mitchell, something she insisted sounded better on vinyl. Today there was nothing. 

Just voices. 

Low. 

Sharp. 

Coming from the kitchen. 

I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. 

I only meant to ask if there was anything to eat before heading back to school. 

Then I heard my mother's voice. 

"...tell me the truth, Adam." 

I froze. 

My dad sighed. 

"It didn't mean anything." 

The words landed before I understood them. 

Silence. 

Then— 

"Didn't mean anything?" Mom's voice cracked. "You had an affair." 

Everything inside me stopped. 

No. 

No, he didn't. 

My dad said something I couldn't make out. 

Mom laughed once. It wasn't really a laugh. 

"Now that my cancer is back, Adam, I don’t want you with me towards the end." 

The world tilted. 

Cancer. 

Is it back? 

I felt the hallway sway beneath my feet. 

No. 

She'd beaten it. She should be okay. She promised she was okay. 

My breathing turned shallow. 

Dad was talking now, faster, saying things like I'm sorry and I never meant... I couldn't hear the rest. 

The only words echoing in my head were... 

Cancer. 

It’s back. 

I don’t want you with me towards the end. 

I heard her sobbing—raw, broken. I’d never known her to cry like that. I backed away, silent, before they noticed me. 

One step. 

Then another. 

My backpack stayed where I'd dropped it. I didn’t remember grabbing my keys—just needing to leave. The rain must have stopped sometime during the drive. By the time I looked up, I had no clue where I was. 

I hadn’t looked at a single road sign in almost two hours. Eventually, the Range Rover rolled into a small downtown I’d never seen before, and I parked in the first spot I found. 

The engine ticked as it cooled. I sat there, hands still gripping the wheel, forcing them open one finger at a time. 

Everything felt wrong, as if I’d stepped into someone else’s life. My dad had cheated. My mom was sick again. 

Nothing looked different. The sky stayed blue. People wandered in and out of cafés with coffee. A kid laughed, chasing pigeons across the sidewalk. How could the world keep moving? I got out because I couldn’t stand sitting still anymore. I walked without thinking. 

One block. 

Then another. 

Until something in a shop window caught my eye—a silver infinity symbol. I froze. In that instant, all I could see was a plate of Mickey Mouse pancakes swimming in maple syrup. 

"Belly," I'd laughed. "It's not an eight." 

Ten-year-old Belly frowned at the plate. 

"Then what is it?" 

I'd turned the plate sideways. 

"It's infinity." 

She traced the sticky syrup with one finger. 

"What does infinity mean?" 

I smiled. 

"It means forever." 

Her face lit up. 

"Oh." 

She spent the rest of breakfast tracing sideways eights in the syrup with her fingertip, completely absorbed. I hadn't thought about that morning in years, and the memory struck me so sharply it almost hurt. Three weeks—Belly's birthday was only three weeks away. For the first time since I’d walked into the house that afternoon, something besides cancer filled my mind. I pushed open the door to the jewelry store. The bell above it chimed softly. 

After I stepped in, I was greeted by a woman with a big, knowing smile. She must not get many teenage boys in here.  

"Can I help you find something?" a woman asked from behind the counter. 

I glanced back toward the front window. 

"The necklace." 

She followed my gaze and smiled. 

"The infinity one?" 

I nodded. 

"I saw it outside." 

She unlocked the display case and laid it carefully on a square of black velvet. 

It looked different up close. 

Smaller. 

Delicate. 

The silver caught the light just enough to shimmer before settling again. For a long moment, I stared at it. An infinity symbol. A sideways eight. My chest tightened. 

"Belly," I laughed, setting a plate down in front of her. "It's not an eight." 

She looked up at me through those ridiculous pink glasses she'd insisted on wearing even though Jeremiah swore they made her look like a grandma. 

"They're vintage," she'd argued. 

"They're pink." 

"They're cute." 

"They're pink." 

She'd kicked me under the table before looking back at her pancakes. 

She smiled, tracing the syrup with the tip of her finger. 

"I like forever." 

The memory disappeared as quickly as it had come. I looked back down at the necklace resting on the velvet. Maybe that was why I'd stopped walking. Maybe I'd recognized it before I'd even realized I had. 

The saleswoman watched me quietly. 

"Would you like to hold it?" 

I nodded. She placed the necklace gently in my hand. It barely weighed anything. 

Still... 

I could picture it around Belly's neck. Not dressed up. Not wearing makeup. 

Just Belly. 

Curled up on the couch in one of my old sport sweatshirts with a book balanced on her knees, those pink glasses slipping down her nose every five minutes until she'd shove them back up with the back of her hand. 

She'd probably forget she was even wearing the necklace after a day or two. 

I'd tease her about it. She'd roll her eyes. 

"You're so annoying, Conrad." 

I'd shrug. 

"Yet here you are wearing my present." 

A smile crept onto my face before I could stop it. 

"You must care about her very much." 

I looked up. The saleswoman hadn't said it teasingly. Just... kindly. 

"I do." 

The words came out before I had a chance to think about them. 

She smiled. "I had a feeling." 

I looked back down at the necklace. Three weeks. Belly's birthday was still three weeks away. So much could happen in three weeks. The thought hit me like a punch. 

Three weeks ago, I thought my parents were happy. Three hours ago, I thought my mom was healthy. I used to believe forever was a promise you could count on, this solid thing that wouldn’t break. Now it felt like something I could lose without warning, like it could be taken from me at any moment. The word forever echoed in my mind, but instead of comfort, it left me hollow. How could forever mean anything, when everything I trusted could fall apart in a single afternoon? It felt fragile. 

I closed my fingers around the tiny silver pendant. 

"I'll take it." 

I kept the little blue box in the top drawer of my desk. Every morning before class, I'd see it. Every night before I went to sleep, I'd tell myself tomorrow would feel different. 

I learned there were a hundred different kinds of silence. The silence at dinner. The silence when Dad called telling Mom he was going to be at work late. The silence after Mom said she was tired and slipped upstairs before sunset. And the silence of pretending I didn’t know the real reason why. 

By the time we unpacked at Cousins, the necklace had become more than a birthday present. 

It had become a promise I'd made to myself. No matter what happened with Mom... No matter what happened with Dad... I was going to give it to Belly for her birthday. 

I heard the car before I saw it. Jeremiah was already halfway down the porch steps before Laurel even pulled into the driveway. 

"They're here!" 

Mom laughed behind me. I stayed where I was. 

Three weeks. I'd carried the little blue box around for three weeks. I reached into my pocket without thinking, my fingers brushing the edge of it. 

Today. 

The car door opened. Steven climbed out first, already stretching his arms over his head. Laurel followed. Then... Belly. 

For a second, my brain refused to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. For one impossible second, all I could do was stare. She looked different. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders instead of being shoved into the messy ponytail she'd worn almost every summer. 

The pink glasses were gone. Her face looked... Older. Not old. 

Just... 

Not twelve anymore. 

Not fourteen. 

Not the little girl who used to steal fries off my plate and insist they tasted better because they were mine. 

My feet carried me toward her before my brain caught up. 

"Hey, Belly." 

She smiled. "What?" 

I realized I'd been staring. "Nothing." 

She laughed. "No, what?" 

I shook my head. "You look..." 

She waited. 

"...different." 

She grinned. "I took my glasses off. I got contacts" 

I frowned automatically. "I liked them better." 

She blinked. "You liked my glasses?" 

I shrugged, suddenly very interested in the gravel beneath my shoes. 

They were...you. The words almost came out. 

Instead I settled for... "I don't know." 

She laughed softly. 

"Weirdo." 

Without thinking, I reached over and ruffled her hair. Exactly the way I'd done a hundred times before. She groaned, swatting my hand away. 

"Conrad!" 

I laughed. There she was. My smile faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. Because this time... When she looked back at me— My stomach flipped. 

That... 

Had never happened before. 

The next few days blurred together. The first swim of the summer. Jeremiah insisting on races to the water. Steven complaining about having to unpack. Mom filling the house with music while Laurel pretended she wasn't singing along. 

I kept waiting for whatever I'd felt in the driveway to disappear. 

For Belly to become... 

Just Belly again. 

Instead, I kept noticing her. I mean, I always noticed her, but this time it just felt different. Maybe not different; maybe this was something that was there all along, and I am slowly waking up. The things I kept noticing more and more. It was the way she laughed with her whole body. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was reading. The way she'd catch me looking and smile as nothing had changed. 

Every time she did... I'd look away first. 

Jeremiah burst through the screen door. 

"Bonfire tonight!" 

Mom looked up from her book. 

"Don't stay out too late." 

"No promises." 

The bonfire was supposed to help. 

Nicole found me before Jeremiah did, slipping her hand into mine like she'd done it a hundred times already. 

"You coming?" 

I nodded. "Yeah." 

She smiled. For a few hours, I could just be seventeen. No secrets. No pretending my family wasn't quietly breaking apart. Just music. A fire. A girl who liked kissing me. That was enough. 

Or at least... 

I wanted it to be. 

The beach was already crowded by the time we got there. Music drifted over the dunes. Someone tossed another pallet onto the fire, sending sparks high into the night. Jeremiah disappeared almost immediately. Steven wasn't far behind. 

Nicole leaned against me, laughing as someone nearly spilled a drink on us. I laughed too. She reached up and kissed me. I kissed her back because it was easy. Because I didn't have to think. 

Because— 

Movement caught my eye. 

Someone was weaving through the crowd. 

Pink. 

I pulled back before I realized I had. 

Nicole frowned. "What?" 

"Nothing." 

I looked again. 

Belly. 

My stomach dropped. 

What is she doing here? 

She wasn't supposed to be here. She looked... different from the way she had in the driveway. Not because she'd changed again. Because this was the first time I'd seen her without our parents nearby. Without Steven rolling his eyes. Without Jeremiah making some stupid joke. 

She stood on her own. 

Nervous. 

Trying to look like she belonged. The pink dress brushed just above her knees. She kept tugging at the hem when she thought no one was looking. 

I remembered her doing the same thing when she was thirteen in one of her really short shorts, the ones I told her were too short. 

The memory should've made this feel familiar. 

Instead... 

It only made me realize how long her legs had gotten. 

Jesus Christ, Fisher. 

I tore my eyes away. Nicole slipped her hand back into mine. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah." 

"You seem distracted." 

"I'm fine." 

The lie came too easily. Across the fire, Belly laughed at something Steven said. Then, almost on cue, she caught her foot in the uneven sand. She stumbled. A few people laughed. 

"Shit." 

She stumbled hard enough to draw a few heads. 

For one awful second, everything seemed to stop. 

Including me. 

Belly scrambled back to her feet so fast it was almost impressive. 

She laughed. 

Too loudly. 

The kind of laugh that said, Please don't make this a thing. 

My chest tightened. 

I'd seen that laugh before. 

The one she used when she was embarrassed and wanted everyone to think she wasn't. 

She brushed the sand from her hands without really looking at anyone. 

Except... 

She looked at me. Just for a second. Then she looked away. 

Nicole's fingers laced through mine again. "You okay?" 

I blinked. "Hm?" 

"I asked if you wanted another drink." 

"Uh... yeah." 

I looked back toward Belly. She'd already disappeared into the crowd. Nicole looked at me. I hadn't realized I was still looking for her.  

Nicole had disappeared to find another drink. 

I leaned against one of the driftwood logs, nursing a beer I'd stopped tasting twenty minutes ago. I wasn't looking for Belly. I told myself that every time my eyes found her anyway. 

She stood near the edge of the fire, talking to a boy who seemed nice enough—smiling at Belly as he knew her. I hated how easily she laughed with him, hated the way he looked at her. 

Belly laughed at something he said—not the careful, polite laugh she gave the neighbors, but her real one, the kind that crinkled the corners of her eyes. I looked away. Then couldn’t help looking back. 

He leaned in closer. Belly didn’t step away. Something twisted tight in my chest. 

Good, I told myself. She deserved someone simple and kind. Someone who wasn’t weighed down by secrets that could split a family in half. 

So why did I suddenly want to cross the sand and pull her away? 

I took a long drink, trying to get a grip. Belly could talk to anyone she wanted. She’d been following Jeremiah and me around every summer since she was ten. Of course, one day she’d meet someone. She’d date someone. I’d always known that. So why did "eventually" feel like it was happening right now, too soon, before I was ready? 

The music stopped. 

Or maybe I just couldn't hear it anymore. 

My pulse pounded loud enough to drown everything else out. Someone shouted. 

Jumper grabbed my drink, and a wave of anger crashed over me. I stormed over, shoved him hard, and started yelling for my beer back—loud, reckless, not even caring how I must've looked. I must have sounded like an idiot. 

The next few seconds blurred together into sand and fists and anger I'd been carrying around for weeks, looking for somewhere to land. 

Then I heard her. 

"Conrad!" 

Everything froze. Not around me. Inside me. I turned just as someone threw another punch. 

Belly stepped between us. 

"Belly, get—" 

Too late. 

An elbow caught her high on the cheek. Her head snapped to the side. She crumpled into the sand. 

"No!" 

I didn't even think. I drove both hands into Jumper’s chest, sending him stumbling backward before dropping to my knees beside her. 

"Belly." 

My voice came out wrong—too sharp, too desperate. She blinked up at the sky, already holding her cheek where a red mark was blooming beneath her eye. 

My stomach turned. 

This is my fault. 

Every bit of it. 

If I hadn't thrown the first punch... 

If I'd just walked away... 

She never would've been anywhere near it. 

"Belly..." 

I reached for her, then stopped. I didn't know if touching her would make it worse. Before I could decide, that boy was beside us.  

"Hey," he said gently. "Can you sit up?" 

She nodded. "I think so." 

He slipped an arm beneath hers, helping her to her feet. I should've been the one doing that. Instead, I stood there like an idiot, my hands hanging uselessly at my sides. 

She winced as she touched her cheek. "I'll be okay." 

She wasn't saying it to me. She was saying it to everyone. But I heard it anyway. The bruise beneath her eye was already beginning to darken. 

I couldn't look away. 

I did that. 

Not my elbow. Not my fist. But my anger—my failure to keep it together for one damn night. 

That boy asked if she could walk. She nodded, and he stayed close as they started toward the parking lot. I watched them go. For the first time all night, my mind finally fell silent. 

Not the necklace. Not Nicole. Not the secret I’d been carrying since Boston. 

Just the look on Belly’s face when she hit the ground—and the sickening realization that the person I wanted most to protect was the one I’d ended up hurting. 

I barely noticed the cops. One second everyone was laughing. The next Jeremiah was dragging me across the sand. 

"Come on, man." 

"I'm walking." 

"Barely." 

"I am." 

"Liar." 

He shoved me into the backseat before I could argue. I let my head fall against the window. The alcohol buzzed pleasantly behind my eyes. 

For the first time in weeks... My brain had finally gone quiet. I wasn't sure when Belly made it back to the Jeep. One minute she wasn't there. 

The next... 

She was standing beside that boy. The boy smiled at Belly. "I can take you home." 

Before she could answer— 

"Absolutely not." 

Jeremiah appeared out of nowhere. 

"No random guy is driving you home, Bells" 

The boy laughed. "I wasn't trying to kidnap her." 

"I don't care." Jeremiah pointed toward the Jeep. 

"Get in the car, Belly." 

She sighed dramatically. 

"Jere..." 

"I'm serious."  

The boy smiled and introduced himself. “I’m not a stranger; we know each other from Latin club. I’m Cam, Cameron” 

Jeremiah huffed out a laugh. “Your name is Cam Cameron?”  

That boy looked a bit taken aback and stammered, “No, it’s just Cameron” 

Cameron… what a stupid name.  

For a second, I thought Belly would argue. 

Instead... 

She smiled at Cameron. 

"Thanks anyway." 

Belly shrugged off the oversized hoodie. 

Wait... 

When did she put that on? 

"Here," she said. "You need this back." 

My stomach sank. 

It wasn't hers. 

It was his. 

"It's okay. You hold onto it" 

Belly smiled, and she slipped it back over her shoulders. 

The sleeves hung past her hands. She looked... comfortable in it. Something about that bothered me. I didn't know why.  

Then she stepped toward him. 

I frowned. 

What was she— 

She rose onto her toes. 

And kissed him. 

Something twisted hard in my chest. 

Why did that bother me? 

She'd kissed boys before. 

Probably. 

Maybe. 

Had she? 

I honestly didn't know. I'd never thought about it until now. The boy smiled like she'd handed him the moon. I looked away. The alcohol suddenly wasn't doing much of anything anymore. 

Jeremiah had barely driven twenty feet before he slammed on the brakes. 

"Fuck." 

He threw the Jeep into park. 

"I forgot Steven." 

I cracked one eye open. "Good." 

Jeremiah ignored me. He pointed at Belly. 

"Watch him." 

"I don't need a babysitter." I protested. 

"You absolutely do." 

He climbed out before either of us could argue, jogging back toward the bonfire. The door slammed shut. 

Silence. 

The kind of silence that only exists by the ocean—waves and wind filling the spaces words can't reach. 

Belly stared out the windshield, a small, secret smile tugging at her lips. 

A loose strand of hair brushed the seat. Before I knew it, my hand was there. My fingers found the curl, and she startled, just enough to glance back at me. I wound the strand gently around my finger, not wanting to let go. 

"Your hair... It's always so messy." 

She rolled her eyes. 

"Like a little kid's." 

She huffed, eyes flicking back to the windshield, but she didn’t pull away. Neither did I. The curl slipped through my fingers, and I caught it again, almost without thinking. How many times had I done this? Brushed sand from her hair, pulled out leaves after she climbed trees, tugged her ponytail to annoy her. It used to be easy. Automatic. 

So why did it feel... 

Different? 

The curl rested against my thumb—soft, warm from the summer air. My chest tightened, a new ache unfurling inside me. Had I ever noticed that before? Or maybe I’d just never let myself. 

"Belly..." 

Her name slipped out before I even knew what I wanted to say. She turned, her eyes catching mine—and for one impossible second, the world just fell away. 

A sharp knock against the window shattered it. Both of us jumped. 

A police officer stood outside the Jeep, flashlight already sweeping across the seats. 

"Evening."