summary: everyone knows you and reese wilkerson hate each other. it's not subtle—he goes out of his way to pick fights, push your buttons, and make your life miserable. so when people start whispering that you've been seen together—alone, late, too close—no one believes it. a passing comment. a "no way". a laugh. you and reese don't make sense. yet, rumor has it you’ve been having sex with reese wilkerson.
words: 7.6k
series warnings: explicit content/smut (*), tbd
Hi, how are you doing now that schools out? I hope everything’s good and don’t rush or push yourself to put anything out! Take care of yourself that’s the most important thing!
hello!!
very very relieved the semester is over haha! i’m taking summer classes so i’ll still be a bit busy but overall happy to be back in nyc.
moving out the dorm was super hectic and i’ve been doing a ton of running around & settling in since i’ve been back.
finally, finally getting back into writing after a very long delay. thank you for checking in!! <3
thanks for all the support through my lil hiatus <3 my semester is officially over at 3pm tomorrow and i can’t wait to jump headfirst back into writing
updates to the series coming soon!!! i appreciate ur patience more than you’ll ever know and hope that ur still excited to read :)
realised u updated the fic only yesterday now i have to wait a million years 😖😖 (joke im just insanely impatient pls take ur time i love it sm 😋😋)
HAHAHA i’m glad you like it!!! everything around me has managed to calm down a bit so it shouldn’t take assssss long for the next few chapters (hopefully?!)
i am checking your profile daily for any sort of updates. LOVING it so far!!
thank u so much <33 i'm sooo picky ab my writing and my schedule is PACKED so i def can't update the series daily, but i'm active everyday if u ever want to pop in, chat, or send an ask :)
summary: everyone knows you and reese wilkerson hate each other. it's not subtle—he goes out of his way to pick fights, push your buttons, and make your life miserable. so when people start whispering that you've been seen together—alone, late, too close—no one believes it. a passing comment. a "no way". a laugh. you and reese don't make sense. yet, rumor has it you’ve been having sex with reese wilkerson.
Dread loomed over you from the moment you woke up on Friday morning, following you around all day. You couldn’t believe what you had done once you finally wrapped your head around it.
Somewhere in the heat of the moment, you convinced yourself that getting on your knees for Reese and giving him what he wanted made you powerful. You felt stupid, in retrospect, like it was a metaphor for each and every fight he had won.
All you’ve ever wanted was to win your game of tug of war against Reese. Last night, you let go of the rope and gave in. Your AP courseload, which was normally nothing short of torturous and overwhelming, was a blessing today. A built-in excuse to avoid Reese.
The twelve years you knew Reese never made him any more predictable. Today of all days, the thought of interacting with him gave you a stomach ache. You felt it coming—your lack of foresight was going to circle around and bite you in the ass. You weren’t looking forward to finding out how.
There were few times in the day that you were truly forced to breathe the same air as Reese. You ate your lunch hidden in the women’s locker room, criss-cross on a bench between the very last row of lockers. You made a scene in the nurse’s office before gym, claiming you had horrible cramps and would throw up everywhere if they made you play. You were late to each of your classes, avoiding crossing paths with Reese in the hallway.
Malcolm watched you intensely when you finally walked through the doors of your AP Biology class, three minutes late. You made eye contact for a brief moment before you averted your gaze, quickly finding your seat. Did Malcolm know what you did? Did everyone? Your stomach was in knots.
Chalk gently scratched against the board as Mr. Myers sketched the diagram of a eukaryotic cell. You copied it into your notebook haphazardly, missing essential points of his explanation as your attention went in and out. You couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone knew what you had done.
You couldn’t help but watch Malcolm through your peripheral vision, whose vision was fixated on you for the entire period. Between each sentence he’d jot down, his eyes would dart over to you again. You could nearly see the gears turning in his head, like he had something to say to you and no good way to say it.
Embarrassment creeped through each bone in your body. Reese Wilkerson was a menace, terrorizing the entire population of North High. Half of your school had no idea Reese existed and those who did wished he didn’t. You, however, were decently well-liked among your peers. You had a solid group of friends and a list of teachers who respected you enough to write you a strong letter of recommendation at the end of the year. You couldn’t imagine what they’d think of you if they knew.
You’d avoid Malcolm entirely if you could, though a little piece of paper tethered you two together for the rest of the month. All the pieces of the endocrine system sat in your backpack. You’d have to work with him whether you wanted to or not.
You rehearsed your conversation with Malcolm in your head, over and over for the last twenty minutes of class. You’d find some way to get out of returning to his house. You’d deny having ever done anything with Reese, deflecting all the shame he’d inevitably put upon you. Your heart sank when the bell finally rang.
You watched through the corner of your eye as Malcolm spoke to Stevie Kenarban. In the midst of their conversation, they both turned to look at you before turning back to each other. You convinced yourself that this was it. You’d look back at this very moment as the spark that ignited the wildfire of rumors.
You braced yourself as Malcolm finally approached you.
“Hey,” he started awkwardly.
“Hi,” you said, scanning his expression. You watched as he tried to piece together the words that were on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he finally said, like apologizing was painful.
Your eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Huh?”
“My mom,” he explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s so embarrassing,” he huffed.
“Oh!” You sputtered. Realization and relief crashed over you like a giant wave.
“Yeah,” he deadpanned, matter of factly, before launching into a Malcolm-style tangent. “I told her we were working on an AP Bio assignment and she didn’t even care! She can’t go five minutes without finding something to scream about!—”
You zoned out while Malcolm continued ranting, absentmindedly nodding along. Each neuron sending panic through your brain slowly deactivated. Malcolm didn’t know about you and Reese. He’d never be able to keep it to himself if he did. A flicker of hope lit up inside of you. Maybe, just maybe, nobody knew what you did. Maybe, just this time, the universe would be kind enough to let you get away with this, scot-free.
“Malcolm,” you stated, snapping out of your thoughts. He paused, mid-tangent. “It’s okay,” you said gently.
He sighed, relieved that you seemingly understood—slightly mortified for dumping his mommy issues on you. “Okay.”
You nodded awkwardly, sharing a brief moment of silence. “About later—” you started, prepared to rattle off a shitty excuse when Malcolm cut you off.
“I can’t work on our project tonight,” he said, “Math leagues meet on Friday,” embarrassment riddled his expression, like he was confessing his deepest-darkest secret.
“That’s okay,” you sighed, relieved. “I have a lot of homework, anyways.”
Malcolm nodded slowly, “Maybe we can meet on Monday?”.
“Sure,” you said. This was a Monday problem.
Rain pattered aggressively against every window of the building as you walked down the hall, making your way towards the building’s exit. You sighed, unfastening the velcro of your umbrella as you leaned on the exit bar, pushing the door open with the weight of your body. Everyone moved hurriedly outside, rushing down the road or to their cars in an attempt to escape the rain.
It was bright and sunny just a few hours ago, though the sky inevitably opened up. Dark clouds loomed above you. It was absolutely pouring.
Amongst the joyous screams and laughs of friends who ran side-by-side through the rain were the anxious cries of Todd Sullivan, a sophomore at your school. You hadn’t noticed the distant screams until they got louder as you rushed down the path towards your house. Two-hundred feet from North High, Reese hovered over Todd, who was crouching on the floor with a freshly-bruised eye.
“Give it to me!” Reese exclaimed, trying to snatch Todd’s umbrella out of his hand.
“No!” He screamed, holding onto it with all his strength.
“Reese!” You called out as you began to approach them. Reese turned towards you, instinctually loosening his grip on the umbrella. Todd scrambled to his feet, grabbing his umbrella from Reese and running away.
“Great!” Reese huffed, “Look what you did!”
“We can share my umbrella,” you suggested, gently.
Reese whipped his head around towards Todd, who had already run too far to catch up with, before turning back towards you.
“Okay?” you asked.
“Okay,” he let out a frustrated sigh before visibly relaxing. He reached out, taking the handle of your umbrella from you, holding it over your two bodies.
You continued down the path, slowly walking in-sync under the small umbrella. The first half of your respective walks home were the same.
“You didn’t tell anyone,” you said; your tone fell somewhere between a question and a statement.
“You didn’t tell my mom about the cheat sheet,” he reminded you.
“Yeah,” you agreed. A heavy silence fell between you two, lingering for a few minutes. Neither of you said another word until you reached the corner of Main St. where your paths diverged. The silence hung in the air—there was so much left to say, to clarify, to understand. Yet, the words were all caught in your throat. You eyed each other, patiently, like neither of you knew what came next.
“Do you want to go to the deli with me?” You finally asked. A silly question—a question that didn’t give you any answers to the things you were dying to understand.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “Sure.”
You continued straight instead of making a right towards your house. You passed two perfectly suitable delis on your way to reach the one across town, where you wouldn’t be seen by anyone you knew. The silence weighed you down the whole way there, following you like a shadow.
Truthfully, you didn’t need to buy anything at all. It was a stupid excuse to buy time with Reese. You wandered away from each other, walking down different aisles of the tiny shop. You stopped at the small freezer that stood in the very back, gazing through the glass door. You slid the door open, pulling out a single plastic-wrapped ice cream bar.
A scruffy, older man rang you up at the counter without saying a word. You forced a polite smile, fishing a few dollars out of your pocket and placing it on the counter.
“Thank you,” you said as he handed you your change. He grunted, offering you no more than a small nod of acknowledgement.
Reese found his way back to you, empty-handed. “Nothing?” you asked, making your way out the door.
“Nah,” he said, opening the velcro of your soaked umbrella with one hand and the door with the other, “Ice cream?”
“It’s for your hand,” you explained. He lifted his hand to inspect the subtle bruising painted across his knuckle. You hated that any part of you had developed a soft spot for Reese. Reese Wilkerson might’ve been evil. You hated that you didn’t really care. Being face to face with him was knocking each and every one of your walls down.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the package in his hand. He examined it for a short moment before pressing it against his hand like a compress, wincing ever-so-slightly.
Like every shadow, the silence followed you inescapably on your walk home. You took in the subtle sounds that you wished were replaced with Reese’s voice. The quiet rhythm of Reese’s breathing. The rain rattling against your umbrella. The soft splash each time you stepped in a puddle.
You passed Main St. this time with an unspoken agreement that Reese would walk you all the way home. You didn’t ask any questions or complain. You just listened.
It wasn’t until you got all the way to your front lawn that you found the courage to speak. “You didn’t tell anyone,” you said again, certain this time.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” he assured you. He paused, reaching into his front pocket; you heard the quiet crinkle of a small, stolen candy wrapper. He reached his hand out for you to take it.
“What’s this?” you asked.
He looked down, “You used to eat these in math sophomore year.”
You exhaled, surprised. Reese never paid attention to anything in math. “Yeah,” you said, turning the wrapper around in your hand, “Yeah, I love these. Thank you.”
You felt like the world had turned on its head. You didn’t think any part of you had empathy for Reese Wilkerson. You didn’t think any part of Reese Wilkerson was gentle or caring. And yet, here you stood, nearly chest-to-chest under a tiny umbrella in the pouring rain.
“Hey,” you said suddenly, like a lightbulb lit up above your head, “Malcolm isn’t home right?”
