Sort of boyfriends || Reese Wilkerson

Chapter 3

Reese hurried through the house, putting trash that lay around in the bin and dirty clothes in the washing basket. God, he even straightened his bed sheets so they weren't in a crumpled mess. Reese wasn't exactly sure why he felt the need to do these things but he wanted to make a good impression for you and make his usually messy home look decent for your visit. His mom wouldn't be home for a few more hours and he was glad really, he didn't want his mom to weird you out with her embarrassing stories and odd habits.

He tries to locate his brothers, though it doesn't prove to be hard as he finds them gawping at the television screen, flicking between channels aimlessly. Reese walks infront of the tv, to which his brothers just ignore him and lean to one side, continuing to stare at the screen. "I've got a friend coming over, so don't pull any weird shit okay?" he says, emphasizing his words in order to express it's importance. Malcolm and Dewey mutter a variation of the same response though neither really care.

"I'm serious, if you ruin this for me I will seriously hurt you guys." he insists, raising his voice slightly. "Yeah, yeah, just move out the way would you?" Malcolm says, evidently tired of his brothers threats. Reese walks away, unsatisfied with his response but not wanting to keep you waiting any longer. "Hey, you can come in now." he says, opening the door fully from where it was previously sat ajar. You mutter a thank you and enter yourself, noticing cupboard doors open and a jar of open peanut butter lay on the side of the kitchen counter. Though somewhat messy, the house had a homely vibe to it and made you feel welcome and at ease.

"My room's just through here" he says, guiding you to him and his brother's room. You can tell it belongs to teenage boys due to the muddy footprints in one corner and the half flat basket ball in another. "I say my room but it's my brothers as well." he corrects himself "Don't worry, they won't bother us though, I made sure." he assures. A silence lingers in the air and you take the opportunity to steer the focus back to why you're there. "So what subject did you want to start on?" you ask, going to fetch the textbooks out if your backpack. He sighs in disappointment at having to actually study "Math maybe?" he suggests. "Sure." you reply, gathering your pen and paper.

You quickly discover he is pretty far behind on math, you were nearing halfway point of the school year and his knowledge on math was around what it should be at the beginning of his grade. You were quite pleased with your patience, thinking that had it been anyone else, you'd definitely have started snapping at them by now. You also appreciated his efforts, he was clearly struggling but was reluctant to give up despite his frustration.

"I guess this is fine" you say eventually "It's alright." he replies, trying to hide his disappointment, although he's doing a poor job, he'll probably get better once he knows all the basics, though the lack of progress made him more than frustrated. "What else do you want to know?" you ask him, looking at him curiously as you write down some answers. "Anything is fine." he smiles lightly, shrugging his shoulders in response.

You lean over him slightly in order to get a better look at his answer. When you reach it, you smile softly and read it, before proceeding to give his answers a quick glance over. "That's very good!" you compliment, making him blush faintly. "Really?" he asks with slight hope in his voice, unsure what to expect from your praise. He has to look up slightly as you're stood over his right shoulder, his eyes meet yours and you immediately swallow nervously. His gaze had a habit of doing that, it made you so comfortable yet so nervous. Your insides fizz and the eye contact lingers between you for a moment. You can't help but be drawn into his soft green eyes.

The sound of the tv emits from the other room, snapping you out of your thoughts. You clear your throat "Have you tried doing it this way?" you ask, shifting your focus back to the work and unsuccessfully ignoring the blush that formed on your face, burning it like a soldering iron.  Reese clears his own throat,  sitting up properly again. "I mean, you could try..." you trail, uncertain about whether or not it was appropriate for you to suggest such things. Your cheeks redden as he talks again "Sorry," he adds, his voice dropping slightly. You nod "it's fine, it's just hard to fully explain."

Your fears had shook you slightly and the tension between you grew further. You didn't know whether to continue or take a break. Your silence was interrupted when who you assumed to be Reese's mom entered the room exclaiming "For God's sake Reese, would you sort your-" she abruptly stopped upon noticing you. "Oh hi there, you didn't tell me you had a friend over." she flashes an over enthusiastic grin which comes off rather false. "Mom, this is y/n, he's helping me with my schoolwork." Reese says, explaining himself. "Oh hi there y/n, I think Reese has spoken about you before." she chimes, to which Reese widens his eyes in attempt to telepathically tell her to shut up.

"He has?" you ask innocently, curious as to what he had said. "Oh yeah, he wouldn't shut up about you." Reese tries to interrupt but she continues, seemingly enjoying her sons embarrassment. "He said he likes your accent and how you mutter to yourself when you do things." Reese had clearly had enough and went to usher his mum out the room, closing the door behind her as she reluctantly left. "Call me if you boys need anything!" she chimes, on the verge of laughter

"Don't listen to her." he says "She just got confused, I was talking about Ashley, y'know in our year." he says, stumbling on his words ever so slightly. "Okay sure, whatever you say." you respond, a slight tease in your voice. You weren't even aware you had an accent, though your running commentary rarely faulterd so you were more than aware of that. It was a habit you picked up a while ago and you were glad it didn't annoy him.

You looked at your watch, the time read 6:20 so you'd been at Reese's for around two and a half hours. You realized your parents weren't expecting you back just yet and so chose to continue in your work with Reese. You'd picked up a few tricks to simplify the maths equations you were teaching him and so he was able to pick up them up relatively quickly. Looking at the work you had completed, you realized how much you had actually done "Wow, you're a pretty quick learner." you say, genuinely impressed at his progress. "It's only because you're teaching me." he replies, a grin painted on his face. The cheeky bastard, stroking your ego. "Besides, math is the one thing I'm actually half decent at."

"Well, one things better than nothing." you shrug, going to collect your things together. "You're not leaving yet are you?" he asks, sounding like a clingy kid. "Why, worried you'll miss my accent too much?" you tease playfully. He only scoffs "Dude, I already told you about that." He tries to defend himself but you don't buy it in the slightest. "Bullshit, you think I'm amazing, don't be afraid to admit it." you laugh, he only offers a "I guess you're right." and plays along. "Well if you're heading home can I at least walk you back?" he offers to which you politely decline, explaining that it's a thirty minute walk each way.

He insists though, and that's how you find yourself walking beside him, discussing books, or comics as it was in his case. The sun hung low in the sky, creating an orange glow that surrounded you in a comfortable warmth. You talk about how summer evenings make you nostalgic of your childhood and he tells tales of mischief involving him and his brothers. Your hands brush on several cases and the contact leaves you with an almost electrical buzz flowing through your body.

When you approach your house you go to say goodbye to Reese, unsure of how exactly to do so. Anything like a hug would be too much and a handshake far too formal. You settled on an awkward goodbye and a share of smiles and nods. You assured him you would talk to him the following day and he left you with a feeling of content and a familiar buzz of happiness. As you fell asleep that night, thoughts of a certain boy clouded your thoughts. Totally normal though, right?