Who Are Casandra And Conrad In The Summer I Turned Pretty?

Conrad Fisher is one of the central characters in Jenny Han's 'The Summer I Turned Pretty,' and honestly, he's the kind of guy who lingers in your mind long after you finish the book. He's the older son of Susannah Fisher and the brother of Jeremiah, part of the wealthy family that owns the beach house where Belly spends her summers. Conrad has this brooding, complicated vibe—charismatic but distant, like he’s carrying this weight you can’t quite decipher at first. What makes him fascinating is how his layers unravel throughout the story. He’s not just the typical 'mysterious guy' trope; there’s genuine depth there. He’s struggling with grief, family expectations, and his feelings for Belly, which he masks behind sarcasm and aloofness. The tension between him and Belly is electric, partly because you can tell he cares but doesn’t know how to show it. By the end of the series, you see how much he’s grown, and it’s hard not to root for him, even when he messes up.

Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher are the heartthrob brothers at the center of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty,' and honestly, their dynamic is what hooked me from the first episode. Conrad’s the older brother—brooding, intense, and carrying this quiet weight of responsibility that makes you want to peel back his layers. He’s the kind of guy who’s always holding something back, and that tension drives so much of the story. Jeremiah, on the other hand, is sunshine personified: playful, open-hearted, and the life of every beach party. But don’t let that fool you—there’s depth there, especially when it comes to his loyalty to his family and his unspoken rivalry with Conrad. The show (and the book series it’s based on) does this incredible job of making you flip-flop between Team Conrad and Team Jeremiah because they’re both flawed and real in their own ways. Conrad’s struggles with grief and expectations hit hard, especially in season 2, while Jeremiah’s charm hides his own insecurities about never being 'the chosen one.' It’s messy, it’s emotional, and it’s exactly why fans can’t stop debating which brother Belly should end up with. Personally, I’ve rewatched the Cousins Beach scenes too many times to admit—their chemistry with Belly is just that addictive.

Conrad in 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' is 17-18 years old. As the more serious and brooding sibling, he perfectly mirrors the uncertainties and longings of those late teenage years.

Belly Conrad is the heart and soul of 'The Summer I Turned Pretty,' a coming-of-age story that captures all the messy, beautiful chaos of adolescence. She's not just the protagonist; she feels like someone you grew up with—awkward, hopeful, and utterly relatable. The story follows her summers at Cousins Beach, where she navigates first loves, family dynamics, and that pivotal moment when you realize childhood is slipping away. What I adore about Belly is how she’s flawed—she makes mistakes, wears her heart on her sleeve, and sometimes acts before thinking, but that’s what makes her growth so satisfying to witness. Her relationships with Conrad and Jeremiah Fisher are central to the narrative, but what’s even more compelling is how she grapples with her own identity outside of them. The way Jenny Han writes her makes you feel every pang of insecurity, every burst of joy. It’s rare to find a character who embodies the teenage experience so authentically—Belly’s not a manic pixie dream girl or a brooding heroine. She’s just a girl figuring it out, and that’s why readers cling to her story.

Conrad Fisher in 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' is played by Christopher Briney, and wow, does he bring this character to life! I binged the show last weekend, and his portrayal of Conrad—brooding, complex, and secretly tender—totally hooked me. Briney nails those quiet moments where Conrad's emotions flicker just beneath the surface, like when he's torn between his feelings for Belly and his family's drama. It's wild how a relatively new actor can carry such gravitas. Funny enough, I looked up his other work afterward and realized he’s also in 'Dalíland,' but Conrad feels like his breakout role. The way he balances the character’s aloofness with vulnerability reminds me of early Timothée Chalamet vibes—raw and unpolished in the best way. Plus, that beach-house aesthetic? Chef’s kiss.

The chemistry between Belly and Conrad in 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' is honestly one of the show's highlights, and the actors bring so much depth to their roles. Lola Tung, a fresh face in the industry, absolutely nails Belly's coming-of-age vibes—her awkwardness, her longing, and that messy teenage energy feel so real. Christopher Briney as Conrad? Whew. He's got that brooding, mysterious charm down pat, but also layers of vulnerability that make you want to hug him. I binged the whole season in one sitting because their dynamic hooked me hard. Funny thing is, I stumbled into this show expecting light fluff, but Tung and Briney’s performances pulled me into deeper emotional territory. The way Briney delivers Conrad’s quiet moments—like when he’s staring at the ocean or playing piano—adds this melancholic weight. And Tung’s portrayal of Belly’s insecurities? Relatable to anyone who’s ever felt like they didn’t belong. Their casting feels spot-on; it’s like the characters jumped straight out of Jenny Han’s books.

Conrad's treatment of Belly in 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' is a complex mix of affection, hesitation, and emotional baggage. From the start, there's this undeniable chemistry between them, but Conrad often comes across as distant or preoccupied. He’s the older brother figure who’s clearly drawn to Belly but struggles to express it consistently. There are moments when he’s incredibly sweet—like when he remembers little details about her or stands up for her—but just as often, he retreats into himself, leaving Belly confused and hurt. His behavior feels like a rollercoaster, especially when contrasted with Jeremiah’s more overt warmth. What makes Conrad fascinating is how his actions reflect his internal turmoil. He’s dealing with family issues, particularly his mother’s illness, which weighs heavily on him. This stress manifests in how he treats Belly; he’ll pull her close one minute and push her away the next. Their relationship is full of unresolved tension, and Conrad’s inability to communicate openly creates this push-and-dynamic that defines much of their interactions. Even when he cares deeply, he often lets his pride or fears get in the way, making their connection feel fragile and intense at the same time.

Jeremiah and Conrad Fisher from 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' are like two sides of the same coin, but man, their vibes couldn’t be more different. Jeremiah’s the life of the party—sunshine personified, always cracking jokes and making everyone feel at ease. He’s the guy who’ll drag you into impromptu beach volleyball games or serenade you with off-key guitar playing. Conrad, though? He’s the brooding artist type, all quiet intensity and hidden depths. You can tell he feels things deeply, but he’s got this wall up that makes you work to understand him. What really gets me is how they handle love. Jeremiah wears his heart on his sleeve, showering Belly with grand gestures and unwavering loyalty. Conrad’s love is quieter, more hesitant—like he’s afraid of messing things up. There’s this one scene where Conrad fixes Belly’s bracelet without her asking, and it says more than any of Jeremiah’s speeches. But that’s the thing: Jeremiah’s easy to love; Conrad makes you want to love him, even when he’s pushing you away.

Conrad's distance from Belly in 'The Summer I Turned Pretty' is layered with emotional complexity. At surface level, he’s grappling with his mother’s illness, a weight that makes him retreat into himself. His silence isn’t indifference—it’s self-preservation. Conrad struggles to balance his grief with the expectations placed on him, especially as the older brother who’s supposed to 'have it together.' Belly’s growing feelings for him add another layer of tension; he senses her affection but can’t reciprocate openly, not when his world is crumbling. Their dynamic is also shaped by history. Conrad has always seen Belly as Jeremiah’s little sister, a boundary he hesitates to cross. His occasional warmth flickers like a candle in wind—there one moment, gone the next. The beach house, once a place of joy, becomes a reminder of everything he might lose. His avoidance isn’t about Belly’s worth; it’s about his fear of failing her, too, when he’s already failing to fix what truly haunts him.