The CONquest of Nellie Bly

Conor began to slur something, but started laughing too hard to finish his sentence.

"Listen to... to the grass..." Violet whispered. "It says we.... we should get home..." She got up and started twirling in circles, singing some strange song she had just made up. I smiled at Conor and watched as he chewed some leaves thoughtfully.

She spun over to me and threw her arms around me, swaying slowly and muttering more incoherent things. All of the sudden, Conor ran over to me and Violet, excited about something.

"I JUST HAD THE GREATEST IDEA," He exclaimed. "We're gonna invent a shower that has an IMAX theater in it and it will also play dubstep remixes of every song ever invented. And they're gonna be awesome remixes... not the shitty kind." He explained, using strange hand gestures to get his point across. "We will all take the greatest showers ever. We would have orgies every Thursday night in my dubstep shower." He clapped his hands.

I let out a loud, boisterous laugh. He had some damn good ideas. I would definitely help him construct the shower, as long as I could come and watch 3D movies at any time I wanted.

I practically lived at his house anyway, and used all of his stuff. I wore his clothes to school, borrowed his boxers, sometimes I even used his toothbrush. Sometimes I'd walk into class wearing a v-neck that belonged to him while listening to Yellowcard on his beat-up ipod. Conor returned the favor as well... He would wear some of my Beatles t-shirts and, sometimes, he would wear my miniskirts to school with butterfly hair clips.

Violet sighed heavily. "Want to go play in the river?" She asked, pointing to the river flowing next to the park. I nodded excitedly, grabbing Conor's sweaty hand. He twirled around, acting as if he was already in the water.

We stumbled down to a beach where we immediately jumped in, splashing around and yelling excitedly. Violet's phone vibrated and she climbed up to the bank to go get it while Conor and I played "Marco Polo."

"Hey, mom... yeah... okay... be there in twenty... alright... bye." Violet hung up and announced she had to go, slipping a hoodie on.

Once she had left, Conor and I got out and sat on the beach, telling stupid jokes that I couldn't remember if you paid me. Hours passed and it was around one in the morning when we reached the conclusion that we should be getting home. I called my parents and told them I'd be staying at Conor's, since my house was too far away. We drove home in the borrowed car, head banging to the "Cats" soundtrack.

The next morning, I woke up in Conor's bed with him still sleeping soundly next to me. Quietly, I tiptoed into his bathroom and took a quick shower, since I had the faint smell of weed still stuck to me. I grabbed his towel and walked out into his room, needing to borrow some clothes. He was sitting at his piano, plucking random notes that soon melted together to make a beautiful melody. I walked past him and tugged a random t-shirt out of his bureau, slipping it on and digging around for some pants. He ignored me, humming along with the song he was playing.

Once I was dressed, I sat next to him and watched his fingers slide around on the keys. He brought the song to a close and turned to me. "Good morning, Nellie." He smiled, giving me a quick hug. "I see you used my shower without asking. Again."

"I always do," I replied. "It's not like you ever use it." He chuckled and got up.

"Oh, what to wear!" He said, twirling around. I rolled my eyes and pretended I hadn't heard him, pushing a few keys on his piano. Once he had stopped acting like a complete woman and gotten dressed, he rested his hand on my shoulder. "Want to go street perform?"

"Depends. Do you want to?"

"Of course I do. Mamacita's getting dusty and I'm in a singing mood." He grinned, and walked out the door. I followed him and together we descended the stairs, nearly bumping into Molly, who was eating a Hot Pocket.

"Whoa... slow down, crazy. Slow down." She held both her hands up, looking at Conor with wide eyes. He apologized and continued to run down the stairs. "Well then... I love you, too." She sighed heavily. I smiled at her apologetically before racing after Conor, who grabbed his guitar case and ran out the front door. I dashed after him, since we had to catch the next bus into town.

Once we arrived at the bus stop, the bus was just about to leave. Conor jumped through the doors as fast as he could, narrowly avoiding a broken leg. I skipped in after him and we thanked the bus driver for waiting another millisecond. He nodded at us, started the bus up again, and began to drive towards town. We sat down on the first bench we saw, breathing heavily. Once we had caught our breath, Conor got his stupid "I have an idea" look.

"What is it?" I asked, able to read his expression. He turned to me slowly, opening his guitar case. I smiled. He plucked a few strings, playing random chords until he found a good tune. From there, he began singing a song about a generous bus driver who went on to win at Jeopardy. The driver listened, laughing softly at the silly yet ingenious lyrics. It was obvious he was enjoying being serenaded. Once the song ended, other people on the bus tossed us their loose change. Conor stuffed it down my bra, saying he'd pay for dinner if I "behaved myself."

We got off the bus outside of Starbucks, Conor's favorite place to perform for random strangers. We sat on a bench and he began strumming, warming himself up. A couple preteen girls peeked over at him from behind their "Tiger Beat" magazines. Conor braced himself as they approached us.

"Hello," greeted a chubby ginger one. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Taylor Lautner?" The other girls shuffled around nervously behind her.

Conor didn't stop playing as he replied, "I've been told once or twice. But there are quite a few differences. For example: my eyes are larger, I'm much more talented, my hair is more long and luscious and it sparkles in the sunlight, my skin is not as tan as his, because I am afraid of the sunlight I spoke of. And," He looked up at them. "I don't have abs."

The girls groaned, disappointed. As they walked away, Conor yelled after them. "BUT THE MAJOR DIFFERENCE IS," he called, "TAYLOR LAUTNER DIDN'T CREATE THE UNIVERSE!"

"I don't see it." I muttered, brushing his hair aside.

"Me neither." He shrugged. I laughed and got up, going to get myself a frappuccino as he played the first few chords of some Zeppelin.

I pushed the door open and walked to the counter. As I ordered my regular medium caramel frappuccino, I felt someone grab my ass. I turned to see Molly standing there, grinning. "Whoa!” I put my hands up. "You were just eating a Hot Pocket at home twenty-five minutes ago, how did you get down here so fast?"

She laughed. "I got a ride from Jennie. And I know how to get dressed quickly and properly, unlike my brother, who was running around the house in your prom dress last week when our grandparents were visiting."

"How does that even fit him?"

"I don't know. But he wore it to dinner and parade-waved out the window for twenty minutes," She chuckled, sticking a straw into her iced cappuccino. After sipping it, she looked out the window. Conor already had about six people gathered around him. She sighed. "Show off." I nodded in agreement, taking my frappuccino from the barista dude.

"He can show off all he wants, but he's never going to get laid. In all honesty, Conor will most likely remain a virgin for the rest of his natural-born life.”

She giggled. "Well, Jennie's waiting for me. I have to go. I'll see you later, okay? Tell my retard that I love him." With that, she left the coffee shop and got into her friend's car. I walked back out to Conor, who had just finished up another song. A couple people placed some money in his guitar case before walking away. More people came forward and Conor pulled me next to him.

"Look how much I made!" He gasped, pointing into the guitar case. There was quite a bit of money in it, but how much was unclear. I got on my knees and began counting. Fifty-four bucks. Wow. I smiled up at him and he began another song, letting me count the rest of the money that fell down. When he had played until his fingers were raw and his voice was hoarse, we got up and went to get ice cream with the money we made.

"Hey, bitches! Fancy meeting you here,” Violet strode into the store and sat down next to us. After giving me Conor and me quick hugs, she turned back to him. “I ran into Molly down town a few hours back. She says hi and that you're a damn fool."

"I met up with her, too." I raised my hand.

"She is no sister of mine!" Conor scoffed jokingly. As we ate ice cream and giggled about the stupid music selection, his phone buzzed.

"Hello... Yeah, Mom... Are you okay?... Why are you crying?...." He paused and bit his lip nervously. "What? Are you kidding me? Oh my God!... Is she alright?... I'll be right there..." Conor hung up. "I have to go."

He ran out the door and we followed him as he ran and ran through town to the highway.

I caught up to him. "What is it, Conor?"

"It's Molly. She's in the hospital." He said dryly, picking up the pace.