❛ I knew you'd come back to me...
You'd come back ❜
-Cardigan, Taylor Swift

For the past month, I have been having the worst sleep every single night. Even if I wake up in the late afternoon, I'll still feel like I had only 2 hours of sleep the entire night.

Today is one of those days where I feel like a zombie being awoken from its tomb. I don't even acknowledge the efforts made to wake me up, I just hum in disapproval and flail my arms around to shoo whoever dares to distrupt my slumber.

"Tessa, come on! Wake up!" I hear the familiar voices of Malcolm and Dewey pleading for me. I force my eyes open and glare at them.

"What the hell do you want?" My voice comes out raspy.

"We decided to finally honor Reese!" Dewey speaks up.

"Yeah, we found this art fair, and were going to trash it. Reese style." Malcolm sounds excited. "It's better than whatever I had planned, I realized it was stupid after I actually went through with it. I should've listened to you." He points to the bruises on his face. I guess he did meet some grumpy war veterans.

I sit up in the bed and rub my eyes. Dread washes over me. "You guys want to honor Reese? You know there's still a chance he's alive, right?"

This whole thing was surreal. Commemorating Reese like he had passed away felt wrong. And I didn't want to engage in that when I've been avoiding the thought as much as possible.

"Yeah, but things aren't looking too good. Mom left for Afghanistan yesterday. She thinks she's shes going to find him in that massive desert... I don't know," Malcolm's voice falters.

"So we're going to dump dirty diapers on all the art. It's what Reese would've done," Dewey says.

'What Reese would've done.' It really sounds like he's gone... I can almost feel my heart sinking into my stomach with the weight of all of this.

"I don't know, guys. I think I'll just wait for news from Lois or something," I mumble. Anxiety builds up in my chest and I gulp. "You can go without me."

When the two boys leave, it takes me a moment to recollect myself and actually get out of bed. I walk with heavy footsteps as I get ready for the day, and I make my way to the Wilkerson's for a painfully long wait.

I made sure to keep Reese's note in my fist. Still crumpled up. I don't know why, it just feels like a memento of his resolve, that he might still be out there, and that Lois can find him.

I never spend time in the Wilkerson house alone, but right now, it's as empty as it can be.

It's never this peaceful. Even when everyone's asleep, there's always a sense of some chaos brewing. Something is always about to happen.

But right now, it's desolate and quiet. Too quiet. The only sound being the dreadful ticking of the clock.

I'm starting to regret not going with Malcolm and Dewey, it sure would have been a little less depressing than this.

I sit on the couch, the same couch I've watched all my favorite movies on, the same couch I've fought with the brothers on, the same couch Reese and I fell asleep on many times, especially that night after his formal. A rare summer breeze finds its way in from the kitchen window, and it sends a shiver down my spine.

The house has really never felt like this before. Never so uncertain. Never so chilling.

I spy the VHS box below the TV, and I find Army of Darkness at the top of the stack. How ironic—the same movie we watched together that one night. I knew it would have made him feel better—after all, it's hard to miss the twinkle in his eye during every ridiculous and bloody fight scene in a movie. He's always been such a simple boy. That night, my choice of film couldn't have been better, because he had forgotten all about the sorrows of that high school formal and I had forgotten all about my FOMO after missing it. It couldn't have just been the movie though, because that wasn't why we ended up swaddled in the couch together— there was definitely another reason for that.

I put the tape into the VHS slot and turn on the TV. Maybe something can help me ease my nerves as I wait and fill the silence in the house with the clamor of the movie.

An hour into the movie, still no one.

I look at the clock. 5:00 PM. Hal could come back from his job hunt soon. But, still, no Reese.

I think about the possibilities. What if Lois comes back, and he's not with her? It seems like I've blindly dismissed that chance. Because, frankly, I don't know what I would do with my self. I brush off these stressful thoughts and revert my focus back to the movie. I rest my head on my palm and I can feel myself start to dose off by the seconds.

Tick. My eyelashes flutter. Tock. My hand begins to slip off my cheek and my head lulls. CLACK. The door unlocks.

It takes longer than I like for me to regain my consciousness, and when I do, I shoot off the couch and swing my head to the door.

Lois enters, and I feel my heart slowly sink.

That is until she pushes the door open, and there he is.

Standing in the doorway is Reese. He's carrying their bags in, focused on getting them into the door at once. The light from outside shines behind him, and I can barely make out his face. The first thing I notice is his frame. He's alot more built than he previously was. I can make out his wider shoulders through his blue shirt. And his hair, it looks shorter, the spikes aren't as neat as they usually are.

He looks up after shutting the door, and his green eyes lock with my blue ones. I don't move a muscle, I just let the blissful feeling of relief flow through my body.

He's alive and he's right there in front of me again. My heart feels like it could burst and my brain explodes with flurries of mental "Thank you, God's".

"Tess..." he speaks, and that flips a switch in my brain to begin functioning again. I practically throw myself at him. How I missed hearing his voice.

He doesn't stall for a moment, he embraces me with the same fervor. His long arms wrap around my torso and the house does not feel cold anymore.

We relish in the hug for a few more seconds before I step back. My hands go to touch his fa ce. "Reese," I let out, as if I'm trying to make sure he's real.

He breathes out a light laugh.

"Take your stuff to your room... my god," Lois huffs in the midst of unpacking.

He turns around to carry the heap of bags by the door into the house, leaving me baffled in the entryway.

I don't know how to feel. If I should be happy or angry or sad. I'm absolutely elated that he's alive and well, but I'm also angry at him for being so reckless and making me suffer through the past month. Yet, I'm also still sad because of everything that happened before he left.

I plop down into a seat at the kitchen table, taking a moment to process everything. I can hear him shuffle out of his room and make his way to me, and he sighs as he takes a seat next to me.

We sit in silence for a minute or so. The damned note that's still in my hand crinkles under the pressure of my fist.

"We thought you were dead, you know?" I begin. We finally look at eachother. We really look. My eyes scan his tired features, I can spot a couple new scars on his face. I can tell he's been through a lot and I cannot believe he would put himself through it on purpose.

"I'm sorry," he says.

That's it. That's what I thought I needed to hear from him, but it doesn't give me the closure I thought it would. Tears begin to sting at my eyes and I hunch over to cover my face.

My sobs are quiet, but he can still hear them. "Hey, no. Please don't cry," is all he can manage as he crouches by my seat and attempts to push my hair away from my face. He has never been particularly skilled at comforting me.

My frustration just grows. I've cried a lot in the past month, but it's just all piling up into a nice big heap right now. It's all coming back to me. Me falling for him. My stupid reaction to his question about our relationship. The excruciating weeks we avoided each other. The sight of him kissing that girl. The fact that I haven't seen his face since and all I get is a 'sorry'.

My muscles jerk and I stand up roughly, pushing the chair away, the sound of it like nails on a chalkboard. "No! Don't tell me what to do," I growl.

At this point my eyes are bloodshot and my tangled hair falls into my face. I'm well aware I look like a madwoman—and I will let him think that. Let him see just what he has done to me.

Fear is something completely foreign to Reese Wilkerson. But, right now, I can see it on his face that he's afraid.

He rises up to meet my height. "Just calm down, I'm sorry," he repeats. He comes closer to me with his hand in front of him as if he's approaching a feral dog.

And so my hands collide with his chest. I push him, instantly regretting the action.

He stumbles backwards and bumps into the kitchen table. Yikes, I used a lot more strength than needed.

Reese is back to me, just as I had wished, and I am quite literally pushing him away. It's now that I am beyond grateful that he swore not to ever lay a hand on me again back in eighth grade.

My hand flies over to clasp over my mouth. "I'm sorry," I mutter. I recoil into myself like a beetle, closing my eyes in apprehension.

"It's okay," is all I hear before his warm arms are wrapped around me once again. I give into his embrace, opening my eyes and letting my wet cheek rest on his shoulder. Of course.

I pushed him and he hugs me as his revenge—brutal.

I slowly pull away from him with a bunch of sniffles and attempt to flatten my hair, taking a rather ashamed seat back at the kitchen table. He follows after my lead, sitting in front of me once again.

My mouth opens to speak. "You could've told me something, maybe talked to me before you made that decision," I start while staring at the ground. I'm surprised he hasn't noticed the crumpled paper in my hand yet. It's all wet because of my crying. "You could've actually given me this instead of leaving me with nothing." I unfold the letter, and place it on the table in front of him.

His eyes widen with confusion. "You..."

"I know, I wasn't supposed to find it. I picked it out of the trash," I scoff.

"Tess, I meant what I wrote, I just didn't think you'd want to hear it." He gives me that godforsaken puppy dog look and my tense shoulders relax. How could I be angry at that? "Things were weird, you were angry at me at me for god knows what—"

My mouth opens to interject, but I can't expect him to have known I was angry that he got my hopes up and started dating another girl. After all, why was I supposed to care? We were never going to be anything more than friends. At least that's what I made him believe.

"I didn't think you wanted to hear about how much I love you," he continues. My heart almost stops at the words. I will never get used to that phrase in his voice.

"You love me..." I mumble quietly.

"Yes, I do," he says, those perfect eyebrows of his scrunching up.

"Then why did you..." I look at him, trying to get him to understand, but his face is inquisitive. "Why did you date that girl? Why did you push me away like that?" I blurt out.

He seems taken aback at first, but he takes a deep breath. "I was trying to get my mind off of you," he begins. "Everytime I'd try to get some type of sign, you'd shut me off. Ever since that stupid kiss, ever since I stayed at your house." His eyes burrow into mine. "It wasn't helping that you barely talked to me anymore, and when I tried to distract myself, my brother decides to screw me over too. I felt terrible, like I had nothing left," he confesses.

I feel that familiar pang of guilt in my chest again. It sort of made sense, he made more advances than I ever did. I've regretted not honestly answering his 'friends or more' question every single day. But now, I can't be scared any of this would ruin my relationship with the family—I can't be nervous he won't reciprocate. I can't waste anymore time.

"I love you too, Reese. Really." It didn't have to take him writing it down or saying it for me to realize that I've loved him all along, just never admitted to it.

His green eyes glisten at my words, then falter in some sort of realization. "No, Tess, the thing is... I don't just love you. I'm in love with you." His voice has never sounded more nervous and sincere, the tears already brimming in my eyes well up even more. I can't believe he doesn't realize that I mean the same thing.

I missed him so much. And I love him so much. I could feel every little sliver of resentment or heartbreak I felt towards him begin to dissipate. I don't know how to reply, all I can do is stare at his soft expression in adoration. Slowly shaking my head in denial that this is real.

Reese is telling me he's in love with me. Reese is in love with me!

"Aren't you gonna go find your brothers?" Lois walks into the kitchen, unaware of the realization she had just interrupted.

"Uh... I don't know where—"

I stand up from the chair, my heart still thumping in my chest after our conversation. "I know where they are," I say, my hand subconsciously reaching for Reese's wrist to pull him up. "Come on," I smile.

The art fair isn't too far from our street, only a couple blocks away in the next neighborhood. It really placed itself in the palm of the Wilkerson brothers' hands as the perfect opportunity to honour Reese.

It became clear we had arrived after being greeted with all the displays of color and upbeat music. And it's not hard to spot the array of balloons the two brothers had prepared on the roof of one of the many houses.

As Reese and I climb up the fire escape of the building, we can make out the low voices of the two boys as they begin to drop the diapers on the fair. I try my best to suppress my giggle at the horrified screams. What kind of psycho has this family made me?

I can hear Dewey's voice clearly now as we've reached the roof. Careful not to make any sound. "He would've liked this," his little voice breaks my heart.

Reese's hand makes its way to my back as he inches his way closer to the boys, and my heart flutters.

"I only wish he could have been here to see it..." Malcolm adds. Reese takes this as his cue and stands tall from his crouching position.

I grin in anticipation at their reactions.

"Me too." He lets his presence be known. Their heads spin to look at him and they practically jump to sprint at him.

"Reese!" Malcolm exclaims.

"You're not dead!"

They both engulf Reese in what looks like a bone crushing hug, but I can tell he's relishing in it—a toothy smile plastered on his face. No matter how horrible to them he can be, I know there's nothing that boy loves more than his brothers.

"I can't believe it. Reese, I'm so glad to see you," Malcolm stumble over his words in excitement. He looks like he's going to cry.

"Alright, alright," Reese playfully pushes them away. "Don't 'mo me. How does this work." Of course, he's getting straight to business.

"Oh, well," Malcolm attempts to muster himself, "we have this remote here, and you pick out a good one..."

"Here. We were saving this one. It's from when Jamie had swine flu." Dewey proudly presents the filthy diaper to Reese. It smells toxic, but I can't help but smile through my attempt to shield my nose.

"Nice." Reese lets the diaper go, and clicks the remote. We watch the scene unfold in amusement. "God, I love this country," he says as the cacophony of screams begins and I giggle.

It's so wonderful to be back to normal again. To be able to hang out with the three of them and join their shenanigans. It makes me realize, I didn't just miss Reese, I missed all of them.

A man from the crowd seems to spot us. Malcolm and Dewey begin to make a run for it, but Reese continues to stare and laugh. "Come on! We should leave! " Malcolm calls out to us.

"Go, you chicken! " Reese yells back and Malcolm obeys with a shrug.

The people below begin pointing at him. "Reese, we should seriously bail," I say with a nervous laugh, tugging at his arm so that he's out of view.

"Wait," he commands, grabbing my forearm as well. I squint my eyes to scan his elated face through my windblown hair. He pushes it away with his other hand, and attempts to place it behind my ear. The slightest contact of his fingers with my neck makes me shiver.

I don't know if he's thinking what I'm thinking, because my eyes are now fixated on his mouth.

He tugs at my wrist so that we're close enough that his breath fans over my face.

And then our lips lock. One of his hands is entangled in my unruly blonde hair, the other still grabbing my wrist.

I melt at the first second, barely finding the strength to steady myself, my hand his gripping his forearm for stability. So, I lean into him, and my other hand moves up to touch his cheek. Our lips mold into one.

We pull eachother closer, each letting go of the other's arm. His now idle hand goes to the small of my back and my senses light on fire. I can smell and taste everything. I can smell the light perfume of a body wash combined with a tiny bit of sweat and that delightful earthy scent that I can only describe as Reese. I breathe it all in.

The kiss doesn't escalate more than our lips moving rhythmically for a few more seconds until we snap out of it and we begin hurrying each other down the steps of the building.

My body feels as if it is on fire, and I think I've never had this much adrenaline rushing through my veins before. We run to the house, desperately gasping for air. We escaped.

Malcolm and Dewey break into a series of laughter, unaware of what had just happened between their brother and their friend.

He gives me that knowing, cheeky smile of his. It's like nothing has changed.

author's note:

Double update, as promised. Life has been so crazy lately. But now that it's the summer, i managed to find a little nook in the mess that is my life so that I can somewhat finish this story. There's always room in my heart for writing.
ANDD
WOOHOO they finally kissed. What do you guys think?