based on the season 6 episode, 'Lois Battles Jamie'.

❛ Cause I'ma stay through it all
So jump then fall ❜
- Jump Then Fall, Taylor Swift

Malcolm has been surprisingly quiet about Reese and I's relationship, he promised to do so as long as Reese didn't bother him or start any prank wars. So, we've been going on pretty comfortably. Although, the other day Dewey almost caught us making out in the bathroom and we had to pretend Reese flushed his hand down the toilet again.

The other day on our walk home from school, Reese made us carry a massive diving board home. Since then, he's been so fixated on the thing that I can barely get him to focus on me.

Thankfully, today I am getting break from hearing those boys argue all day about the stupid diving board since I have after-school Track and Field practice.

I let down my hair and stretch my legs to prepare for the warm up.

The coach yells at me to hurry up and I try my best, but my damn hamstrings are just so stiff! I've seriously gotta stop missing practice to hang out with Reese. I finally stretch my hamstring and I turn to Coach Rubens, anticipating his further instructions.

However, he is deep in a conversation with the new Cheerleading team coach. She is a middle aged woman with a ponytail that is always so tight it looks like it's the only thing keeping her face together. I watch them for longer and I could swear the woman points at me.

I look away and choose to do some light jumping jacks as I wait, but then the harsh voice of coach Rubens calls out to me again. I whip my head to face him and he beckons me over.

I approach him and the Cheerleading coach and place my hands on my hips, awaiting his request.

"You can do a cartwheel, right?"

"Yeah," I shrug. I still know all the basic gymnastics Reese and I learnt in middle school. I don't know if he still knows how to do a backflip after hitting his head doing one, though.

"What about a back handspring?" The cheerleading coach asks.

"Uh, sure," I reply. I'm not sure where this is going and I don't like it.

"Perfect!" The cheerleading coach exclaims, clasping her hands together. I give coach Rubens a confused look, and he simply smiles. "I'm Coach Harris, by the way. I'm coaching the Cheer team now." She outstretches her hand for me to shake and I begrudgingly take it.

"What is this about?" I ask, trying my best to hide the fact that I want out of this right now.

"Well, you see, since that hag made half the good cheerleaders get traumatized and quit, I've gotta scout for the spring," she says. I stare at her for a moment. "Come here." She practically yanks me closer to her and holds my head like it's a basketball. "Hm..." she examines my hair. Ugh, I hate when people touch it. "Is this your real hair? No perm or curling iron?" she asks.

"Nope, real hair, I simply reply, just wanting to get out of her hold. She lets me go and I subconsciously fix my hair.

She takes a step back and begins speaking while her eyes scan me from head to toe. "Well, I have no words, Rubens. She's perfect. Beautiful face, blonde hair, strong legs. A little tall, but I can work with that. Exactly what I was hoping for." She beams at me and I can practically feel my ego expanding. I shuffle in place bashfully at her comments, it's nice to be told I'm perfect like that. Perfect to be a cheerleader, nonetheless! "You're in, Smythe! Just come to my office tomorrow morning to fill out the form and get your uniform!"

I smile at her words but instantly stop myself. Hold on a second, I've just signed myself up to be on the cheerleading team! My thoughts circle back to her words and how good they made me feel, and then I remember the cheer routine the team did last year. It looked pretty fun, and nothing I couldn't pull off. What's the worst that could happen?

"Hold on a second, how much do you weigh?" she asks right when I'm about to walk off.

"Um, like 111 pounds or something," I shrug, a little confused at her question. I haven't measured my weight in ages.

"Hm, it'll work," she says and turns to talk to Coach Rubens again. I take that as my cue to walk away. I get back to my warm up and think about all of this. I guess I could stay on the track team, but I won't have enough time to be able to participate in the competitions. I definitely did not expect a turn like this in my senior year.

When we get home from school the next day, Reese and I part ways from the boys and we enter my house. We use the excuse that I have a new comic book to show him and the other two boys pay us no mind as they enter their own house. I know Malcolm knows this is just us getting some alone time, so he didn't even bother questioning us.

I got my cheer uniform this week, and I'm more than excited to try it on. It's red and white with 'LANCERS' written on the chest. I filled out the form at coach Harris' office today and there were two other girls waiting in there for it too. At first, I was intimidated by their beauty and the fact that I'm pretty sure I've seen both of them glare at me from over at the popular table. Much to my surprise, they politely introduced themselves to me and squealed as they congratulated me on making the team. This is new!

Reese and I walk into my room and he plops onto my bed before I do. I kick off my shoes, take off my jacket and enter the bathroom to wash up. When I go back outside to the room, he begins speaking. "Jamie has been driving mom insane, it's hilarious. That kid is a beast. I miss when I did things that drove mom insane like that..." he pauses while staring at the ceiling, "man, that damned board has been sitting out there for four days and I still have no clue how I'm going to use it."

"Well, maybe you should think about something else until the idea comes to you," I shrug and plop down on my bed as well.

"Like what?"

I bite my lip in thought, I still haven't told him about getting into the cheerleading team, when normally we tell eachother about things as soon as they happen.

"I'll show you something." His eyes follow me as I get off the bed and walk over to open my school bag. I pull out the rather wrinkled uniform and hold it out to display.

"Did you steal that?" he asks as he props himself up on the bed.

I giggle at his cluelessness. "No, idiot. They scouted me for the cheerleading team!" He sits up and I can sense his intrigue. "I just got the uniform today," I say as I stare at it.

"When are you gonna wear it?"

"I don't know, I haven't even tried it on yet." I look back and forth between the uniform and his attentive gaze. I set the uniform on the bed and step back to take off my 'New York' T-shirt.

I can hear the faint sound of Reese's breath hitching in his throat as he realises that I'm taking off my shirt in front of him. I gulp as I pull the shirt over my head. This is no different than him seeing me in a bikini, I tell myself. I throw the shirt over at my chair and begin unbuttoning my jeans, sliding them off pretty quickly.

I pause for a moment, standing in nothing but my socks, lacy yellow bra, and pink underwear. I look at Reese's face and he immediately reverts his eyes to look up at my face. His eyes almost look glazed over and his adam's apple bobs up and down as he gulps. Then, he innocently holds up the cheerleading skirt for me. I take it with a smile. I see what he's trying to do.

I pull up the skirt and it fits my waist perfectly. However, it's a little shorter than anything I usually wear. I almost reach out for the top, but I spy Reese completely zoned out, staring at my chest. I grab the cut sleeve top and whip it in front of his face to get his attention before putting it on.

I place my hands on my hips and do my best cheerleader smile. "So, what do you think?"

"Uh... You look great," he says nervously, licking his lips.

I laugh at his shyness and turn around to take a look in my mirror. It's a different Tess, but I like her. The red of the uniform compliments my hair, and the overall cut is more than flattering. I'll have to shave my legs alot more often now, but if that means I'll look this good, then I really dont mind!

"So, you gonna wear that, like, everyday?"

"I'm not sure, but pretty much, yeah." To be honest, I didn't ask the coach many questions upon recieving the uniform. But from what I've seen, the cheerleaders wear theirs most of the time.

I take a seat next to him on the bed and he looks at me up and down, before a mischievous grin appears on his face. "You know, I could get used to this," he says as his hand delicately touches my bare thigh.

I hastily grab his head in my hands and pull him in for a kiss. He runs his fingers through my messy hair and pushes us back so that we're laying sideways on the bed.

My hands are now rubbing his back, feeling every muscle under his red shirt. He opens his mouth and with that something takes over me, I push him onto his back and get on top to straddle him.

We seperate the kiss for a moment and his face is absolutely dumbstruck at the action. Both our hands glide wildly over eachothers bodies. His hands go everywhere from my thighs to my back and then to my hair. His shirt is riding up a bit so that I can see a bit of his toned stomach underneath, and I give into the temptation. I slide my hand under it, feeling his lean chest and washboard abs. Now, the hem of his shirt is practically at his neck. I give it a tug, and his hands stop exploring my body for a second as he takes off the shirt in one swift movement.

I take a moment to admire his shirtless torso underneath me. I haven't seen him shirtless that often since he got back from the army, I'm only now processing how built he's gotten.

I distinctly remember all the times I've ogled his body from afar. All the times his arms flexing made it hard for me to breathe. I don't feel any different right now, except that I can touch him to my heart's desire.

One of his hands slides up under my new top and he traces my spine, making me shiver. Oh, he knows exactly what he's doing. I'll show him.

I stop kissing his lips for a moment and make my way under his jaw to lay some kisses on his neck. He holds back a sigh and it comes out as more of a hiss. The mere sound makes a strange sensation in my stomach go wild.

I adjust my position on top of him slightly and when I do, I feel something poke my inner thigh.

Oh.

It immediately sends my thoughts into a frenzy and I almost forget how to function. I involuntarily stop kissing him and he instantly realizes what's wrong, his face flushing. I hover over him for an awkward moment before getting off of him.

"Look... I'm sorry but I can't control this stuff," he mumbles shyly.

I give him a coy smile and brush my hair out of my face. "Yeah, I know. It's fine. It just... makes me a little nervous."

"I understand..."

I take a few deep breaths and regain my composure. As much as I've fantasised about all of this before, I've never properly thought about what it would actually be like to do things with him. Not only am I super inexperienced, it's awkward and a pretty huge deal to be getting all hot and heavy with someone that has been your best friend forever.

I take a look at his tender face and then my hand that is still resting on his chest. I lay down and place my head right where my hand was. I wrap my arm around his waist and he holds me closer in response. I can feel his heartbeat and I can trace his abs. It doesn't get better than this.

Our breathing matches up, and it waters an indescribable mirth that's growing in my heart. I know he feels it too, because he lets out a content sigh. That's whats so great about this, it's like our brains are connected in some crazy way. His fingers absentmindedly twirl and brush through my hair. If I was a cat, I'd be purring like crazy.

"Tess?" It comes out as an almost whisper.

"Hm?" I hum.

"I love you."

I don't reply immediately. Instead, I just let his words linger. Neither of us have said those words to eachother since the day he got back. I wonder what made him say them now. I can't deny though, that I feel it in the air and it's almost palpable. All those years I've felt that beautiful sense of belonging around him—it was love. But it was always a nebulous cloud floating in the air, a vague feeling. Now, however, it's as clear as daylight. I can feel it, I can hear it, and I can see it in his eyes.

He raises his head from the pillow at my silence, and I look up at his concerned face. "I love you more," I say. It feels like the right thing to tell him, it's exactly how I feel.

"No, you don't," he replies.

I sit up, immediately missing the feeling of his chest. "Oh, you wanna fight me on this?"

"Dude, come on," he gives me a smile.

"What?" I say threateningly.

"You know how easy this is," he laughs before attacking me with tickles. I explode in laughter, pleading him to stop in between. I get a chance to retaliate and I do. He's somehow weaker than I am, because he begins screaming.

"Ah! Okay—okay stop!" he yells out, his voice turning hilariously high-pitched.

I cackle at how easily he gives up and back off. "Two can play this game, Reese!"

He catches his breath and then pulls me in for a playful kiss once again, cheekily smiling into it. It's intoxicating, but as much I want it to last forever, I pull away.

He rests his forehead on mine. "I think we should go see what everyone's up to," I whisper.

He rolls his eyes playfully. "Ugh, okay."

I get off the bed and casually begin taking off my clothes, even though my brain is going haywire over his bold stare. He doesn't even put on his own shirt, he just sits on the edge of the bed and looks. I hide my bright red face from him until I'm fully dressed in my t-shirt and jeans.

However, he doesn't stop staring.

I walk over to him and his eyes just follow me. I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.

"You're so beautiful." He says it slowly, as if in a trance. Butterflies explode in my stomach. Nobody has ever told me I was beautiful before. I've been called pretty—cute, sure. But, beautiful? That always felt like it was reserved for Catherine-Zeta Jones or a landscape mountain view, not me. My lips curve upwards.

He finally pulls on his shirt and we take the shortcut from my window leading us right to the Wilkerson's backyard.

We're met with the towering diving board, it stands out among the bushes like some type of obelisk. Reese groans at the sight of it. "I managed to forget about it for one second! I can't escape this stupid thing." He walks up to the ladder with a scowl. "I hate you." He begins kicking it. "I hate you, I hate you!" I just stand by and let him take his anger out.

Malcolm and Dewey come out to the backyard as they hear the commotion. They exchange confused stares and then settle on me and I give them a simple shrug.

"Reese, this is crazy," Malcolm interjects. "You've been staring at that damn thing for four days! We're getting rid of it." Him and Dewey raise up some dangerous looking tools I hadn't noticed in their hands before.

"No! Wait! I finally have an idea."

"What is it?" I ask.

"I'll have it in a second! Just wait! Reese's face contorts into one of desperation.

"It's over, Reese," Dewey's small voice says.

"Once the board is gone, things should go back to normal," Malcolm continues. "Did you know that the Newmans put a statue of a naked guy on their front lawn a week ago? We should be ashamed of ourselves!"

I giggle at the thought of the ridiculous statue, I saw it yesterday when I was walking back from school alone. I was going to tell Reese about it today, but we sorta got carried away...

"No!" Reese whips back to admire the wooden contraption. "We are not getting rid of this."

"Reese, what is the big deal? What's so special about this board?" Malcolm asks exactly what is on my mind. I try my best to understand the boy's strange fixations, but sometimes I just can't—like right now, I get that the board was cool a couple days ago, but now it's plain boring.

Reese thoughtfully stares at the ground before speaking. "I think it's my last time..."

"Last time for what?"

"For anything stupid and reckless and fun. Maybe it's because..." he turns to look at me for a moment and stammers. It clicks in my head, but he can't say his new mode of thinking is all because of me. My heart still wells up at the thought. He continues, "maybe it's because I'm almost 18 now. Lately I' ve been hearing this voice in my head that says, 'That's dangerous, that's stupid. You're gonna hurt yourself.' And the old voice—'This is fun, do it anyways. They'll figure out how to save you,' it just gets quieter and quieter. Pretty soon, I won't be able to hear it at all." His shoulders slump forward and I can almost empathise with him. He's finally growing up. He turns back to face the diving board. "I want to say goodbye to it the right way."

Malcolm and Dewey give eachother a resolute glance. "We'll give it the best send-off that any crazy voice could ever ask for," Malcolm states. I smile at the ridiculousness of this.

"I'd do it for mine," Dewey adds.

That night is eventful, to say the least. Dewey and Malcolm quietly ask me for help to set up a kiddie pool on the roof after dinner, all while they strap little fireworks and roman candles to a vest and helmet. I don't even get a chance to question why Francis is miserably lying on the couch with Hershey's chocolate smeared all over his face.

We call Reese out and he's more than elated to carry out the stunt, after all, it's crazier than anything we've seen on Jackass. I shove the worry building up away as he wears the explosive gear since I trust Malcolm's calculations when he says that he'll jump off the board and land somewhat safely in the kiddie pool. There's nothing Reese can't handle. Plus, if he goes through with this, he'll be famous! Malcolm has a camera recording the entire thing to be broadcasted live.

However, none of us foresaw that the ladder would collapse and the board would come crashing down on Reese.

It's horrifying. The firework's ignite under the heap of wood and metal, and Reese's screams go silent after a couple yelps of pain.

Now, I'm sitting in a hospital room.

Lois and Hal went to get some tests done after Lois burnt her hand trying to discipline Jamie. It's hard to believe he's her most disobedient child ever thus far when Reese is the one lying in a hospital bed covered in gauze like a mummy.

Malcolm and Dewey stayed at home to watch the internet's reaction to the stunt, but I'd like to assume they're too guilty to watch their brother be carried off in a stretcher because of them.

His parents stop by the room and the doctor talks to them. I overhear Lois saying something about "He's fine," and the doctor insisting that he stay the night to check for signs of a concussion.

I squeeze the boy's hand as I hear those words. Hal, Lois, and the doctor come into the room.

"Hey, we're leaving. Reese is gonna be staying for the night. Come on, Tess," Lois says over the sounds of machines beeping.

I look between her and Reese's bandaged face.

"Can I stay? I can sleep on that chair," I plead. The armchair in the corner of the room looks fairly comfortable.

Lois looks at the doctor and he shrugs. "It's fine, as long as you both are here when he's discharged tomorrow," he says to her and Hal.

I smile at Lois and she sighs, looking at Reese and I with an inscrutable expression on her face. "Okay, but what about your father?"

I hadn't even thought about that. "I'll call him from the reception soon, I promise."

"Alright," she says before walking away.

The doctor writes something down as he examines the screen next to Reese's bed. "I don't know how you do it, Reese, but you should be back to normal in a few weeks' time. An accident like this would've caused permanent injuries for anyone else," he states and I let out a nervous laugh. Reese is truly one for the books.

Reese squints from under the bandage wrapped over his head raising his cast-covered hand to fix it, and I call a nurse to adjust it for him. He finally speaks up as the doctor and nurse leave the room, "Thank you for staying with me. I hate when they make me stay overnight."

The truth is, I hate hospitals. I hate the smell of chemicals that assaults my senses no matter where I go, and I hate the overall vibe of sick people. There's so many things that make hospitals a creepy, terrible place for me, and it doesn't help that the old man hidden by a partition in the same room as us keeps moaning in his sleep.

"Of course," I smile.

It's safe now, his parents are gone and no one can see us. So, I lean over the bed to place a chaste kiss on his lips, it's quick and I'm careful not to hurt him. He forces a smile on his injured face.

"I don't think it's so bad that I don't feel like getting myself killed anymore. Maybe I'll start listening to that good voice in my head instead of trying to turn it off," he says.

"Yeah, it's about time, Reese. You're growing up," I whisper.

He shuffles in the bed and winces. "I haven't felt this bad since the army." I rub his hand comfortingly. "But you know, it's not just that I'm growing up, it's you... Even when I was fighting in the army, I was always thinking about you. I used to never be afraid of death—I've happily tried to face it so many times. But now, I'm afraid of it—for a good reason." He finishes with a sincere look in his bruised eye.

My breath hitches at his deep words. I never knew I would be the one to change Reese, after all, I'm nothing new. I was wrong. "Thank you," I say.

After that, he falls asleep and I go out into the reception to let my father know I'll be staying the night. The sleep I got on the armchair wasn't exactly the best, but it's more than comforting to wake up in the middle of the night and be able to see Reese soundly asleep in front of me.

The next day, Lois discovers that Reese has been putting cans and cans of energy drinks into Jamie's bottles. Something that I cannot for the life of me wrap my head around. I guess if Reese has had enough of trying to get himself killed, that does not mean he'll stop doing it to other people.

Lois takes away all of Reese's comic books so that he has nothing to do until he heals. The revelation that he is the one behind all of Jamie's bad behaviour drives her crazy. If she hadn't suspected it before, now she is sure that Reese is the worst Wilkerson son.

After all, Reese rivaled toddler Francis' turbulence even while he was still in the womb. His stupidity was probably the reason Malcolm turned out a genius, and also why Dewey ended up in the emotionally disturbed class. But three siblings doesn't cut it for Reese Wilkerson—no, he's turning little Jamie into a weapon of destruction. His own mother has given up on trying to make him better, and I, Tessa Smythe am his last hope.

...I am doomed.

AN:

I appreciate all you readers so much, the next parts of the story I think are pretty exciting, so stay tuned!