Chapter 10-Finale

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"What are YOU doing here," Malcom hissed at Dewey, stomping up and down to get the milkshake off of his Converse.

"Thcrew-"- Dewey hesitated- "Screw you Malcolm, what are YOU doing here?"

The boys began bickering with dramatic hand gestures and high-pitched whines as Heather looked from each of them and to the other, not sure of what to do. This was the moment she knew would come, but never wanted it to. If she were to bag one of these boys who mysteriously had no last name, she would have to think quick- what did she want? Malcolm made her feel like a nice, crispy dollar bill that you had stuffed into the pocket of your jeans, washed, not worn for an entire season, and then wore only to surprisingly find the forgotten dollar still there; but Dewey made her feel like the accomplished validation you get after perfectly toasting a slice of white bread so that the very surface of each side is firm, but the thin middle is soft. 

Defeated, Heather slowly let out a wail and a tear streamed down her face. This got both boys' attention. A concerned arcade attendant considered walking over, but in that moment smelt the familiar scent of the nacho cheese pump melting together with the adjacent mayochup pump, so they decided to investigate that instead.

"Boys. I can't do this. I can't do this to myself, or to you, and you guys should not be doing this to each other. Dewey, you glisten like the frost on a sunny winter morning, but we must both face that you are too young for me. Malcolm, you are more handsome than early 2000s golden boy Frankie Muniz himself, but I think you have your own self-image issues to sort out. I'm... I'm sorry," Heather choked out painfully but with a bittersweet smile. "So, what do you guys say... friends?"

The boys, puppy dog eyes equipped, looked at each other, then to Heather. This prompted her to smile more happily, as she was feeling a sense that the boys would let the whole fiasco go and come in for a hug, sweetly ending this chapter of their collective story.

But that was not the case.

The boys slowly turned to look at each other again, and synchronously, they each sprouted an evil smirk that spoke a sea of wordless plans for revenge on Heather to one another, but Heather's plebian mind could not interpret their shifting faces as so... genius. Just as she began to internally question what she was seeing, Malcolm crossed his arms as Dewey put his hand to his mouth and exerted a strong whistle.

"SIXTH GRADERS! FREE PIZZA BY THE SKEE-BALL MACHINE," the boys shouted collectively.

Heather only had time to remember the brothers fleeing the scene as the stampede of children smothered in stink and grease charged towards her with movements that resembled EOFD (Early Onset Fortnite Dances) before she blacked out.

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She was moving. Not her limbs- her whole body. Yet she was still. How was this so? 

Heather blinked and came to her senses, watching the sunset tuck itself deeper into the horizon out of the car window. Her head felt heavy and stiff as she felt it leaned against the seatbelt, feeling that someone must have put her there. Her mouth felt dry and so nauseatingly like solar cooker quality cheese pizza that she would not dare to open her mouth out of fear of regurgitating what must have been forced down her throat in a frenzy of trampling sixth graders wielded with more 'za than thought scientifically possible. Should she be worried? Where is she?

Heather thought of all she could remember from her favorite true crime shows, all still in their early days before their networks would milk them into a powder. She could tell she was safe- she was not blindfolded, in the front seat, simply passing through busy and well-lit roads she knew around town. Nelly's "Ride Wit Me" played at a soothing volume throughout the vehicle-- a tough feat since the song is such an irresistibly swanky jam. Because of these safe factors, Heather associated this moment with home, and love, and- herself. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, she had forgotten what it meant to just relax. Whoever it was driving this car would surely have her heart.

"Oh hey, I see you're awake," softly rang the voice of the driver. Heather smiled but still did not feel the strength to move her head or open her mouth. She did realize, though, that in a very strange way, she had felt like she heard this voice before, but still knew that she didn't in reality. What kind of a voice could sound so familiar if you had never truly heard it before?"

"You're probably tired and confused, I get it. Don't worry, I'm just taking you back to your place. I made my brothers give me the address, ugh... those little twerps won't bother you anymore, I promise. They can be such jerks, you know, even by my standards," the driver reassured. Heather exerted a nose huff of a laugh and appreciated this driver for his kind deed. But, wait... what was that? Brothers? Brothers. Brothers that knew her address?

Heather gazed all the way she could to her left and checked out the rearview mirror. She blinked and focused on the reflection of spikey frosted tips. In a moment, a pair of slight yet magnificently dark brown eyes met her gaze through the reflection, and Heather swooned all over again. But now, it wasn't because this boy was smart, like Malcolm, or adorable, like Dewey, or agreeable, like Dabney, or even irresistibly sexy, like Lloyd. He was just... nice. Heather, sighing in relief but also in preparation for the conversations and amend making to come, looked back out through the window as the driver pulled onto her street. She knew better now than to assume that this would be an easy relationship with an easy man. Since this guy was related to Malcolm and Dewey, he would have his complications- but if he was caring enough to drive her home safely, after such a chaotic night, well... she'd be more than just a krelboyne friend to him.

The car pulled into the driveway. Heather felt alright now, and turned her head to the driver. Before she could speak and thank him, he spoke.

"I'm Reese," he smirked. Heather blushed, pulled the door handle, and winked. As she stepped out of the car, she blew him a kiss.

"I know," she laughed and shut the door. The driver caught her gesture and backed out of the driveway. But they both knew he'd be back.

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