I hoped that they chose a nice picture for my funeral, and not my last school picture because in that one I was mid-blink and the photographer clearly did not care about my forever memories. I should have written a will for this.

They were so going to use that stupid picture.

"How's it going, Stella?"

I swallowed my dying breath and looked up at Tyler with what I hoped looked more like a grin than a grimace. He was glistening with sweat and an easy smile on his face, cheeks flushed and adorable. I gave him a shaky thumbs up and willed my legs to keep moving, desperately trying to ignore that I probably looked more burning sweaty pig than just cutely parched. 

"Super great," I reassured him, feigning delight. "Yeah, no, running, it uh, really opens up the muscles."

I didn't even know what that meant.

Reese had disappeared somewhere along the way, which usually I would find to be the greatest of blessings but now felt a little empty. Although I knew that this was the basic structure of his plan, disappear so alone time could ensue between myself and my future husband, it wasn't exactly working out to the standard fairy tale itinerary.

At least before there was a steady flow of conversation that I could mindlessly listen to between the two boys, because they were clearly aliens that did not feel the pains of gravity like the human folk.

Now there was nothing. My main priority was trying to keep the oxygen in my lungs, let alone trying to maintain a conversation.

This was a stupid plan. I shouldn't have expected anything else from that dumbass.

"Awesome! You've been keeping up really well! We should have done this earlier. I never knew you liked to run, but that's really cool! It's always fun to run with other people," Tyler chimed, and those clear blue eyes would have winded me if I wasn't already on the brink of death.

"Yeah, I, uh, yes," I agreed, realising that anything other than monosyllable answers was a bad idea.

I had to restrain a groan as he turned down a dirt pathway that meandered through a dense forest. With a hard swallow, I stared up at the looming sea of leaves and bark, accepting the fact that they were going to find my body covered in dirt and critter poop.

For a solid minute we paced ourselves further and further between the trees, an earthy aroma enveloping us whole as our feet pounded against the dirt. My skin prickled as I absently scanned over my surroundings, drinking in the hum of cicadas and the distant chirp of robins. I probably would have enjoyed it if I could still feel my legs.

"So, Stella," Tyler hummed, glancing over towards me.

"Yeah?" I breathed out, barely even giving him any consideration. This was the longest conversation I ever had with Tyler and I was going to die. This was my life.

"Are you and Reese, y'know, since the whole Melissa cafeteria thing, are you guys a thing?"

I coughed, choking on my own spit due to the sharp intake of breath that followed his terrible accusation. Pounding on my chest, I willed my cheeks to calm down from the vicious burning I felt and tried to clear a decent airway. 

"No!" I spat out, out of breath. "No, no, no, no!"

"Ah, I'm sorry!" he blurted out, eyes wide as he shook his hands as if to erase the question from existence. "I just thought- it was sort of a rumor going around. I mean one second you were trying to kill him, the next apparently you guys were together..."

I didn't know if I was out of breath from the running or from the horrible realization that Tyler had heard this awful idea from someone else, meaning that it existed somewhere else in the world.

Reese was officially banned from my funeral. I needed no further miscommunication after my death. It should be known that my hatred for him burned with the heat of a thousand suns, or just my face after running for the last fifteen minutes

"No, no way! We barely- hah, get along!"

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to make that weird!" A genuine concern was written among the freckles on his nose and my heart instantly melted.

As I tried to reply with what I hoped was a reassuring smile, the tip of my foot managed to come in contact with a gnarled tree root and took my entire body with it. With a disgruntled cry my body was thrown to the side, off the path and down a little hill, with many rocks and twigs to greet me the short way down. Pain erupted throughout my body as I felt my skin break, the ache and the burning blending together to create a world of hurt.

When I finally hit the bottom, everything was still, and tears burned in my eyes. I groaned, lying there for a second, my body twisted at a peculiar angle but the pain was too strong for me to even consider moving.

"Ow."

Tyler immediately started towards me, concern etched on his face. "Shit, Stella, are you okay?"

I lifted up a hand to stop him, the back of my other wrist coming to cover my eyes. "Just, uh, wait a second. I'll, shit, I'll be right there!"

He paused, and leaned over to get a better look. If it wasn't for the lightning strikes of pain that were charging throughout my body, I would probably be mortified, but it hurt too much for me to care. I could feel the twigs entangle with my hair, and there was a particular poignant pain across my forehead that was probably more than a light scratch.

Heaving another moan, I managed to sit up, patting myself down to make sure that all my limbs were still in place. Nothing was twisted or broken, at least. Other than my dignity. That unfortuantly had a brutal, terrible death.

After a lot of internal convincing, I finally got up on my feet. Somehow all my tears were kept at bay, because water was not something I needed to add to the mess I knew I was. My arms were both dusted with various cuts and smeared with dirt, probably an echo of the disaster on my face, and there was a bruise forming on my tailbone already from the signals of pain my body was sending. I gave a feeble wave to reassure Tyler I was okay, but I wasn't even really sure of that myself.

When I finally scrambled up back to the path, Tyler grabbed my hand and pulled me up, steadying my weak footing. "Wow, are you okay? That was pretty rough."

"You know me, either do it well or don't do it at all," I drawled, wincing as he lifted my arm around his shoulders to borrow some of my weight.

Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. "How about we take you back home, yeah?"

I swallowed, nodding. "Yes please."

After a couple minutes of silent hobbling, which I was thankful for because I was a little too distracted for small talk, we turned back onto my street. There we found Reese, casually sitting on his porch, still in the basketball shorts he was wearing before. He was squirting water into his mouth via Gatorade bottle, and looked as if he was about to smile until he realized the condition I was in.

"Woah," he breathed out, jumping up and hovering towards me. For a fleeting moment, something like concern seemed to be sparked in those amber eyes. "Shit, what'd you do?"

I clenched my jaw and fixed the dumbass with a glare. "Say one word, Powers, I will castrate you."

Tyler gave a wry smile, still holding me up. "She tripped and fell, but I don't think it's anything serious. Just some scrapes, probably need to be disinfected."

Reese snorted, and that echo of worry was immediately replaced with that shit-eating grin of his, causing me to wonder if maybe the pain was making me delusional.

"All right, I'll take her inside, I can clean up the little baby that can't even handle a little run," he cooed while picking up my weight from Tyler, a new development I was not too fond of.

If the only physical contact I got was Tyler holding up my battered body, I was going to take what I could get.

I made a noise of indignation at his words, but the pain was too great for me to actively protest. Tyler chuckled and handed me off, wiping his dirt-smeared hands off of his shorts. "Well, take care of her, yeah? She had a pretty nasty fall. You gonna be all right, Stella?"

With a swallow, I nodded, my arm slung over Reese's shoulder. "Thanks," I murmured, trying to force a smile, "I probably will!"

He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand and a generous grin. "No worries, hope you feel better!"

I swallowed. "Can do! Seriously, I feel perfectly fine! Don't worry at all!"

And then he was off, jogging down the street and away from my life for probably forever. I knew I should have never trusted Reese with the delicacy of my love life, because it went from non-existent to a total non-hope in the matter of twenty minutes, right before my eyes.

"Are you seriously okay?" Reese asked, looking down at me.

As soon as Tyler was gone, the smile dropped. "I think I'm going to throw up. I hate you."

Reese chuckled next to me, helping me waddle over to the porch steps.

"Did you see all that close contact touching I just got you? You should be thanking me, I had to practically peel you off of him," he mused, eyebrows rising suggestively.

He was met with a blank stare. "Do you see my face right now?"

"Stella Sandavol, you look absolutely ravishing." He grinned, the cheeky bastard.

"If you don't get me inside right now, I'm going to- ah," I hissed in pain, wincing as a dull ache thumped in my ankle from stepping onto the porch.

He chuckled, carefully helping me up and being rather gentle for someone who was very much sadistically taking a piss at my pain. "How about we save the threats for when you're not bleeding all over me, yeah?"

I glared but said nothing nonetheless, following him slowly inside through the front doors. Inside I was met with the fresh scent of lavender, a very modern décor focused on light creams and chocolate browns, not a speck of dust in sight. It was an interesting contrast to next door where my house was littered with signs of human presence everywhere, and here it looked beautifully empty.

"Where are you parents?" I asked as we stepped further inside, a thick silence greeting us within.

I did not want to make awkward introductions in this condition.

"Oh, dad's probably downstairs in his office, I think mom's out with her friends," he said coolly.

I hummed and didn't press the matter, allowing myself to be guided into the dining room, complete with a full oak table and grandfather clock. Without a word he carefully set me down, locking eyes with me to make sure that I was okay. I nodded, taking in a deep breath and happy to finally be stagnant for a while.

He moved to underneath the kitchen sink, rummaging around only to return with a green box in hand. I watched, curiosity drowning in my gaze as Reese set the little box on the table and pulled up a chair in front of me so that we were both on eye level.

"All right, let's fix ya up. The best we can, at least." He snickered.

I cast him a deadpan look, but slowly shifted back to one of genuine interest. "Why are you helping me?"

He opened the box to reveal all the contents of a standard first aid, bandages and hydrogen peroxide abundant. At least, if anything, Reese was well prepared, as at my house we only had a mix-matched box of Shrek and Dora band-aids somewhere in a cupboard.

"Because I was the one who sort of got you into it. Anyway, I'm sort of good at this," he murmured as he dipped a cotton ball in the disinfectant, carefully dabbing the cut on my forehead.

I hissed at impact, wincing at the sudden shot of pain that charged through me. Reese pulled back slightly, but then continued cleaning the cuts I'd acquired through my most graceful of falls. His hands did have a skilled quality to them that made me wonder if this wasn't a totally unique experience to him, but I didn't ask. I didn't care, really, other than to get myself all healed up.

"Thanks," I mumbled, and then a silence flooded between us.

I watched him carefully as with deft and gentle hands he fixed me up, soft touches pressing the plasters over my arms and face, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in concentration. This might have been the closest I'd ever been to his face without wanting to explicitly murder him, and I took a moment to absorb all his features.

His nose was a little crooked, and he had a little mole on his right cheekbone that I hadn't noticed before. For a moment I was entirely enthralled in studying his face, absorbing his sharp jawline and almond eyes, that I was taken by surprise when he finally pulled back.

"All right, well, I think you're all good now," he affirmed, taking my wrist and checking my arm to make sure that he didn't miss anything. "As good as it's gonna get, anyway. Just don't go falling into any more forests, the one of your forehead's gonna take a while to heal."

I nodded, a soft smile finding my lips "Well, uh," I cleared my throat, "Thanks for everything."

For some reason, I couldn't meet his eye.

"All right, well, go get some sleep. Heal a little, and then we'll continue on with Operation: Love Master after I come up with another plan. Maybe one that doesn't involve running, all right, Usain Bolt?"

I fixed him with an unimpressed look.

Heaving a sigh, I lifted to my feet, my body still ravaged with an ache but feeling, surprisingly, the slightest bit better. Not on the brink of death, which I found to be the best kind of improvement. "All right, well, next time don't let your dumbassery get in the way of your plan making."

He shot me a thumbs up and I rolled my eyes.

Making my way towards the door, I heard Reese snort behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder with knitted brows. Reese was quickly dissolving into an attack of laughter right before my eyes, and I turned with a frown.

"What?"

He grinned, barely restraining his laughter. "Your back! You have animal shit stuck to your back!"

My face paled as I stared up at him, cautiously reaching around to feel a lump attached to my shirt, and I internally screamed. This was how my future husband saw me. Covered in animal shit.

Without a word, I twisted on my heel and stalked out of the house, or well walked as quickly as I could manage, shame devouring my face in its proverbial tomato colour. All I needed was a shower and perhaps a time machine, and then everything would be better, I told myself. Or at least a shower and a good night's sleep.

That night, I shifted a lot in my sleep, unable to find a comfortable position. A mosquito seemed to have attacked my neck as an incessant itch relentlessly burned my skin, refusing to allow me the comfort of slumber.

When morning arrived, I was restless and tired, and glad that I had a Sunday to waste away. Scratching my neck, I trudged into the bathroom.

When I switched on the light, I screamed.

***

This is what happens when I watch She's All That and have Kiss Me stuck in my head. I do not know what happened, and cannot be blamed for any sexual tension that may or may not be present in this chapter, haha.

(FREDDIE PRINCE JR PLEASE SAVE ME FROM MY LIFE?)