Alive Again

Clare Wallace was beyond pissed off. She was prowling the halls, searching for her older sister. She was aware that they would have to take the bus home together, and Reese had the bus fare. School had ended fifteen minutes ago, and the population in the hall was rapidly dwindling. If she didn’t find Reese soon, she’d be stranded at school. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had happened either. Clare should have seen this coming. She had, after all, dumped Reese’s friend Kennedy.

Her fists clenched tightly, her well-kept finger nails creating indents in the shape of crescent moons. Kennedy had some fucking nerve to wear that shirt. That red flannel shirt was what had brought on that breakup. Kennedy had been pissed off, but he never got to vocalize the reason why. Clare ripped into him without restraint.

Some of the things she said had nothing to do with Kennedy. She looked at that shirt and screamed things at him that had no relevance to their situation. She told him that she wasn’t good enough for him and that deep down he knew it. She basically told him that he would leave her and forced his hand in the matter.

The last thing she said to him was her at her most vulnerable. She looked at that shirt and tried to remember how it had looked on her father. She couldn’t remember his face, or anything about him. Somehow she had let his memory fade away, but not remembering hurt as much as remembering would have. She looked into Kennedy’s eyes when she delivered the final verbal blow and tried to remember what color her father’s own eyes were.

She couldn’t. So she glared at him, and allowed herself an honest moment of vulnerability.

“You’re going to leave so might as well go now before we get attached. I’m going to leave you before you get the chance to leave me!”

He had caught her wrist as she was leaving and his face held nothing but confusion. The argument had shifted so many degrees in such a short time, it was no wonder he had been left behind.

“What does this mean?” he had asked. His expression told Clare that he truly had no idea what had just happened. This had angered her. She had wanted to make a clean break, and he wasn’t letting go. Clare hated when boys wouldn’t let go, because she knew it was easy. If her father could let go of her, so could any boy. She had ripped her wrist from his grip and turned on him, bristling with rage.

“It means that this fling is over! It means that you were just like every other boy, Kennedy. You were easy to manipulate, a casual fuck and a pair of arms to hold me. I’m what they say I am, Kennedy, I’m a user. I use people for my own sick and twisted reasons. You were one of many, and you’re not going to be the last boy that crawls through my window at night.”

She hadn’t been that vicious to anyone who didn’t warrant that kind of treatment. Kennedy hadn’t deserved it, but she was pushing truth to the back of her mind. He had been sweet to her. When they were alone, he wouldn’t immediately shove his tongue into her mouth. He talked to her for at least twenty minutes before he did. He had brought her a flower last night, because she was sad. It reminded Clare of how John always brought Reese candy when she seemed down.

Clare wondered if her sister had gone home with Kennedy. She had heard a rumor that Kennedy had disappeared after lunch. Maybe Reese had gone with him, to lend comfort. Reese didn’t usually comfort any of Clare’s past flames, but this fling had been different. Clare had gone after a close friend of her sister’s.

She hadn’t thought of the consequences, never even considered them. Maybe this time she had gone too far. There had been fights between Clare and Reese, over Clare’s lifestyle and reputation. Clare never took them seriously before. Perhaps this time, she should have thought twice. Then again, it wasn’t like Kennedy was Reese’s boyfriend. Had her sister been in a relationship with the boy in question, well, Clare was sure she wouldn’t have pursued him.

Until after they broke up.

Clare was moving through the halls, her footfalls becoming more quick and frantic. She finally decided to just go toward the student parking lot, and hoped to God that one of her friends was still at school. She didn’t want to have one of the staff drive her home, or lend her bus fare again.

“Clary, wait up!” Clare paused mid-step and turned to face the only person to call her Clary in school. John was jogging down the hall toward her. She felt immense relief; if John were still here then Clary could probably get a ride with him!

“Hey,” she greeted with a relaxed smile. John wasn’t smiling back.

“Have you seen your sister anywhere?” he asked, getting straight to the point. Clare was taken aback by this; John was usually more laid back and kind.

“I was actually going to ask you the same thing. We were supposed to take the bus home today, but I think she ditched me or something.” Clare added the "or something" as a buffer for herself.

“Fuck,” John groaned, throwing his head back. “We were supposed to work on our project after school, but she never showed in class.”

“Well, if you want an excuse to come over, you can always give me a ride home.” Reese always said that Clary had no restraint. Clare was starting to think that maybe her sister was onto something. John gave Clary a calculating look. He was wary of Clary now, after the Kennedy incident and his talk with Reese this morning. Reese was already a bit peeved with him, and he didn’t want to unintentionally fan the flames. This reluctance contradicted John’s “nice guy” persona. He found it hard to say no to Clary and not for the reasons that other guys did.

She was beautiful, he would give her that. But she knew she was beautiful and she used that to her advantage. She was confident, something that John liked in a girl, but her confidence was because of experience. He knew that she wasn’t really confident; it was a facade that she was quite capable of putting on. Any girl that has managed to get such a reputation for breaking hearts had to be insecure.

Reese was beautiful too, though. If she knew it, she didn’t show it or flaunt it. John always respected that about her. She was also very confident, she just didn’t care. Her confidence though, made John sad, because she was so damn determined to be isolated and independent. He liked that she had this innate sense of herself, and that nothing could make her change that. Her spirit was infallible. Maybe to a certain degree Reese was insecure too. Her insecurities seemed to stem from the opposite sex.

If they didn’t have such similar features, John wouldn’t believe that they were related.

“Sure, let’s go. I just have to stop somewhere, along the way though.”

Clare smiled; the boys she knew always gave in so easily. If she only knew that it was Reese’s influence that had John agreeing. John wanted to see Reese, plain and simple.

Reese didn’t want to see John, or anyone for that matter. The trip home had been a blur to her. Every movement Reese made was reluctant. All she wanted was to shut down and not think or feel. She just wanted to sleep.

But she was the responsible daughter, and she had to do the laundry. So instead of collapsing on the couch, she went through the motions of collecting the laundry from her room, Clary’s room and her mother’s room. She carelessly sorted the combined laundry into piles and loaded the washing machine.

And then Reese couldn’t sleep. She sat on the edge of her mattress, her hands gripping the sheets, and her eyes half lidded. She wanted to collapse on her side and sleep, but the noise of the washing machine was hypnotic, and in the end she stayed in her position just listening. Even after the machine had shut off, she sat there and just stared unseeingly at the wall.

She kept having these thoughts, logic kept interrupting her peace, telling her that she had to get up and put the laundry in the dryer because no one else would. She ignored it for another half an hour, but the persistence of logic began to make Reese feel guilty. She stood on trembling legs and switched the loads, putting a fresh load into the washer.

She sat atop of the dryer, and returned to her comatose state. Her mother found her a few minutes after the dryer had stopped.

“You’re home early,” her mother stated, confused without any accusation to her tone. Reese blinked slowly and forced her unseeing gaze toward her mother. She didn’t say anything.

“Where’s my uniform?” Reese wordlessly pointed to the dryer door, directly below her. Her eyes were magnetized toward her mother, following every move the tired woman made. She didn’t comprehend that her mother was opening the dryer door, until it smacked her knee.

“My shift ends around ten tonight, I have to work at seven tomorrow but you’ll have the car. I’m catching a ride with someone. I’ve left some money on the counter for food, so you can order pizza if you and your sister want, or you could do one better and go grocery shopping. I’m in the mood for spaghetti. Either way, make sure you leave me something to eat after work, okay? I would really appreciate if you could fold the laundry for me, too.”

Reese was nodding, not quite aware of the motion. Her mother wasn’t paying attention though, her back was turned and she was leaving the laundry room.

“Mom,” Reese spoke, for the first time since lunch. Her mother stopped walking at the doorway, gazing over her shoulder at her eldest daughter.

“Yeah, honey?” She prompted after a beat. She smiled tiredly, but encouragingly at Reese.

“My friends are having a baseball game after school Friday and want to know if I can play. We’ll be getting pizza afterward and John offered to drive me home. Would I be able to go?” The tired smile dropped into a frown.

“I thought we could have a family night on Friday. I don’t have to work, and we could have a dinner together and maybe watch a movie.” Her mother said, and then forced a smile.

“But whatever, you can go if you want.”

Even though her mother had given her permission, Reese knew that she couldn’t go. Her mother was leaving again, and Reese spoke up again.

“I’m not going to school tomorrow.” Reese’s voice showed how she was feeling, tired and defeated.

“How is Clary going to get to school?” Her mother challenged. When it came down to it, she wouldn’t even tell Reese that she had to go to school. She may not be around a lot, but she knew that if Reese didn’t want to go to school, there was a good reason for it. Reese went to school sick, half the time. Her motherly instinct just knew that Reese had a good reason to miss school, even if she never articulated it.

“She’s a big girl, she can take the bus.” Reese gave a half-shrug, and her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. Like she knew how her daughter was truly feeling in that moment.

“Okay then, I’ll call the school on my first break. How does the flu sound?” Reese feigned a cough and gave her mother the first smile since John had presented her with Reese’s Pieces.

“Good, I’m going to leave the keys on the counter for you and take the bus to work. I’ll see you tonight, Reese.” Her mother blew a kiss, and Reese let her leave this time. Feeling a little lighter than she had five minute ago, Reese abandoned her post on top of the dryer and switched the loads around.

She was sitting in the living room an hour later, folding the laundry when she heard someone pulling up in her driveway. Curiosity got the best of her; she abandoned the laundry and walked to the living room window. She peered out of the curtains and saw Clary getting out of the passenger side, and then John getting out of the driver’s side.

Reese met them at the door. John was carrying his bag, and Clary’s. She observed them, with a blank expression, from the doorway and didn’t return Clary’s smug smile or John’s sheepish one. Clary was used to her sister’s moods; she didn’t even bat an eye at the indifference she was treated with. John, on the other hand, was too used to Reese returning his crooked smiles.

“Thanks for the ride, John.” Clary took her bag from John and slid past her sister, escaping into the house. The way Clary had brushed against John, and brushed her fingers on his arm hadn’t escaped Reese’s attention. For a moment, Reese and John stood, staring at each other. Reese was waiting for him to say something.

“Hey.” She nodded in response to his greeting. “Can I come in?”

She moved aside and allowed him access to her home. Reese shut the door behind him and turned to watch as he fumbled with his backpack. Reese leaned back against the door and watched John’s profile. He extracted his hand with a familiar orange box. This time when Reese accepted the candy, she wasn’t smiling. She was too tired, too numb and too defeated to smile at anything.

“Hey, are you okay?” Reese tried very hard to shake off how she felt, to put up her facade and evade the concerned friend routine John was trying to put forth. She smiled, but felt that it was unconvincing.

“I’m just really tired; I think I’m getting sick.” Reese was used to telling these types of lies. They were lies that bridged into another lie—creating an iron clad alibi. Tomorrow when she didn’t show up to school, John would remember that she said she had been getting sick.

Despite her weak performance, John seemed to buy into the fake smile. As much as Reese loved to spend time with John, she still desired to be alone. She would have to do something to make him feel unwelcome.

“Look, I’m really sorry about this, but my mom wants me to go grocery shopping...” Reese let the sentence trail off. John was a smart boy; he would be able to piece it together.

“Well, let’s go then.” John responded, taking Reese by surprise. She recovered by calling out an invitation to Clary. She loved to shop, even if it was only grocery shopping. Reese didn’t particularly want Clary’s company, but she also didn’t want John to catch on to her mood and harass her. If Clary was good for anything, it was monopolizing any male’s attention.

Clary and Reese led John to their mother’s car. The ride to the grocery store felt tense to Reese, but it might have just been her. Clary was perfectly at ease in the passenger seat, playing with the radio. John lounged in the backseat, also looking content. The experience of shopping with Clary and John was almost pleasant. John could reach things on high shelves, and Clary handled the gathering of most of the food. Reese pushed the cart and acted like a responsible adult—chastising them for their preference for chips over fruit.

And then Clary destroyed any chance that Reese had of getting rid of John for the night.

“Do you want to stay for dinner, John?” She asked. Her voice was innocent and sugary sweet. It made Reese grind her teeth at the sound.

“Well, what are you having?” John directed this question at Reese.

“Mom wants spaghetti,” she recited in monotone.

“If your mom doesn’t mind my staying...” John trailed off. Clary was quick to jump into the conversation she had started.

“Mom isn’t going to be home for dinner tonight.” Reese squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for patience. Her prayers weren’t answered, and she responded with more heat than she would have liked.

“Mom wants leftovers.” Clary narrowed her eyes at her older sister. It always bothered her when Reese tried to chase away company. Reese might be content with spending all her time reading and being stuck in a big house with just her sister for company but Clary needed some variety and excitement. John was that little flavour that would make dinner taste that much better.

“I’m sure you can make enough so that everyone can eat.” Reese rolled her eyes; of course her sister would just assume that Reese would cook dinner. She didn’t mention helping out at all. If she did help out, then Reese wouldn’t be annoyed. More people meant more cooking. Couldn’t Clary see that Reese was tired?

In fact, she was so tired, that she didn’t bother to retort.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.” John stated, sending Reese a sideways glance.

“Don’t be silly, John, you’re not going to be any trouble.” Clary assured. Reese was walking idly ahead, looking up at the top shelf.

“Jolly Green Giant, can you grab that box of Frosted Flakes, please?” she asked, to distract from the current topic.

“Sure, Reese’s Pieces,” John was smiling at Reese’s use of his full nickname. She was the only person that called him that. He was the only one to call her Reese’s Pieces. Other people had tried to use that name, but Reese always asked them not to. He was smug about the fact that she had never asked him not to. Once he had asked her why she let him call her that. She told him that she liked the way it sounded when he said it.

It was the same with John. He just liked the way Jolly Green Giant sounded when she said it.