'Cause I'm miserable

And nobody even knows - Taylor Swift

Conrad

So it turns out the Cleveland writer dude actually meant it when he said he was gonna write a book about sailing. He was also frank when he told me he knows nothing about it. We met at the docks at 5 am because he had something else to do today and now, almost 3 hours later, I'm proud to say we've made progress. Guess there are perks to getting out of the house while everyone sleeps.

- For me it's easier if I picture it like this. - I hold the blue knot in my hands and Cleveland gives me all of his attention, which is slightly overwhelming. I don't remember the last time a grown-up was paying this much attention to something I was saying, or at least taking it this seriously. - The standing line is a tree, so all you have to do is make a loop for the rabbit hole, the rabbit comes out, goes around the tree and then back down the hole.

To me, making a knot this simple is second nature, I barely have to think about it. I placed second in a regatta last summer, so I like to think I'm good at it, although I'm far from being an actual professional.

- Then you pull. - The rope scratches the palm of my hand, a sensation I've grown into loving. - Boom! You have a bowline knot in your hands.

Cleveland snickers. The man looks completely out of his element here with his stripped sweater and hipster glasses, but the coolest part is that he doesn't give a fuck. He might not be the type of person who'd usually be in a place like this, but he's here, so screw it.

- This is one of the most convoluted metaphors I've ever heard in my life. - There's a rasp to his voice. - And I'm a writer!

- I grew up around it, so I guess it doesn't sound that weird to me. - I never stopped to think about it. - It helps though.

- It does. - He smiles warmly. - So, my editors are making me do this segment thing on Good Morning Massachusetts later today. Could you maybe come early and help me get ready? I don't wanna get canceled by the boat lovers community.

That makes me chuckle. Cleveland is far from ready to properly talk about sailing.

- Yeah, of course. - The smile on my face feels foreign. - I'd be happy to.

- Awesome. - He stares at the horizon, as if lost in thought, but snaps out of it in a second. - I look forward to sounding like I know what I'm talking about.

This is not the first time Cleveland got distant for a moment, and he usually cracks a joke when he comes back.

- Just gotta trust the rabbits and the trees. - I add, and he laughs. - Alright, let's try this again.

We end up staying in his boat (yes, he actually bought a boat) for another 2 hours before he leaves to talk to his editors. From what I've gathered, Cleveland likes to write about things he knows nothing about, so this is not his first time learning things for the sake of a story. He's successful, I know that much, and although he's kinda scruffy, the guy knows his stuff.

I'm in a good mood when I get back home and find my mom making pancakes. Steven and Jeremiah are on the couch playing video games while Stella talks to Laurel.

- So 150k followers is a big deal? - Laurel is extremely averse to technology, so I'm not surprised she has no idea.

- For a writer? Absolutely. - Stella nods and her ex-stepmother seems offended. - Some niches are bigger on social media, like makeup and fashion, for them 150k is nothing. But writers tend to not be so big.

Laurel nods, but she's not convinced. I lean on the wall that divides the dining room from the living room.

- It's kinda like the sales of a book. - I say, and both of them turn to me. Stella's cheek pink ever so slightly. - The number might be big for a self-published poet, but for a mainstream romance it'd be nothing.

- Oh. Ok. - Laurel looks at the screen intensely. - That makes sense. So this guy is a big deal.

- Yup. My mom read his book. - Stella shrugs a little before turning to me. - How did the sailing class go?

- It was fun, actually. He's a nice guy. - I take a seat next to her on the couch, keeping a good distance. Not like I have to, Jere and Steven are busy with their game, mom is humming Mamma Mia while cooking and Laurel is still trying to figure out Instagram. No one is paying attention to us. - So, what are we waiting for?

That's the wrong thing to say. Everyone was busy a second ago but now they're staring at me. I must've made some sort of mistake. It's not the 4th of July, Laurel's book signing has already happened, and the dinner for debutantes and parents, aka Stella's performance, is only on Saturday. What am I missing?

- Dude, it's Belly's birthday. - Jeremiah rolls his eyes. - I can't believe you forgot.

- Oh. - My brother is right, it hadn't even occurred to me. - I'm sorry, it slipped my mind.

- Good thing we talked to you before Belly got here. - Mom whispers in a rush and approaches the couch with a big plate. Mickey Mouse pancakes, a birthday tradition. - She'd be devastated.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs saves me from having to apologize again. Jeremiah abandons the game to hug Belly and Laurel, Stella and my mom follow his lead. Everyone wishes her a happy birthday and says a bunch of stuff about how pretty she looks and whatever.

I'm quite indifferent to it until Belly says she doesn't want the Mickey pancakes. My mom's disappointment is palpable and suddenly I'm angry, but I remain quiet. Laurel suggests we skip breakfast and go straight to the gift giving part.

- Hey, how about we open the gifts? - Laurel suggests, holding a book shaped wrapping. - We can eat later.

- Alright... - Belly sits next to her mother and brother. - Let's take a look at this.

Next to me, Stella smirks to herself. She is knowingly the best gift giver in the family and it's one of her favorite parts of the birthdays. Most of the gifts are cool. Mom gives Belly a pearl necklace that has been in our family for generations, Laurel gets her a first edition of her favorite book with her favorite poem tagged, Jeremiah gives her a key bracelet chain - a good luck charm for her driver's license test - and Steven gives her a Princeton sweater. According to him, that's because he doesn't want her to steal his when he starts studying there. My friend has a dream and all the means to achieve it. Then Stella comes up with a yellow envelope that humiliates all the other presents.

- No way! - Belly gasps loudly. - Is this for real?

Stella giggles while everyone else exchanges looks. Steven steals a glance over his sisters shoulders and his eyes widen so much I fear he's gonna pass out.

- Taylor Swift concert tickets? - He looks like he's about to pass out. - How did you get these? I thought they were sold out!

- Bitch, my father is a rockstar. - Stella laughs and I can't help, but join in. - It's one for each of you, plus 3 more if you wanna invite Taylor or some other friends.

- I'm going to see Taylor Swift? - Steven's voice breaks in the middle and I think he's gonna cry. He's even more excited than Belly. - Oh my God, you're the best sister in the world!

He gives Stella a huge hug, turning his face away so we don't see the tears in his eyes, then he runs into Jeremiah's arms, who picks him up as they shout the words to a song I don't recognize. Something about mountains, dragons and having the time of your life. Star sings along, radiant that she remains undefeated in the gift giving category. The best part is that it has nothing to do with money. Even on our birthdays she gives us something we like. The guitar I have in my room was a gift from her, she gave mom this paint kit with exotic colors she adores and Jeremiah's favorite sweater was also from her.

Stella and I make eye contact while the boys continue to sing, or rather scream, and everyone laughs. She smiles. I smile. God, I'm such a simp.

- Conrad, your turn. - Steven turns to me, then his face drops. The idiot forgot the conversation we had. - Oh, shit. I mean...

The awkward silence stretches for what feels like forever until Belly stops smiling. I swear the air feels physically heavier than a minute ago.

- I forgot. - My voice is sharper than intended. I probably would've been more apologetic if she didn't reject my mother's pancakes. - Sorry.

- That's ok. - Belly lies through her gritted teeth, holding back her tears. - I wasn't expecting anything from you.

Fucking bullshit. She always expects something from me and no matter how many times I let her down, she never stops wishing things were different. That I was different. Belly fell in love with a version of me that only exists in her mind, but she doesn't see me as I am. Sometimes I feel like no one does.

Jeremiah comes to save the day once again, saying he'll take Belly driving so they can pick up Taylor from the bus station and the conversation diffuses away from me. When I finally look up, Belly is sitting next to Stella on the couch and they're talking to Laurel about the concert tickets. And my good mood is gone like it was never there to begin with.