Fix You ~Completed~

Act Forty-Seven

I miss this.

The post-it note found its way onto my integrated math homework, forcing me to glance up from my pointless equations. The other inhabitant of the old pick-up was busy pretending to scribble answers down for his US history homework. I grinned a bit before writing my response.

I do too. Sometimes, talking gets too effing hard. -_-

A new note tumbled my way.

We should cut our last 2 periods and just make out or something.

NOO I need my last class; getting behind on homework would KILL me.

Well not getting to make out would KILL me.

Let's just make out a little right now?

"I'm surprised you didn't include a heart or something," Kyla murmured, chuckling lowly as he discarded our more recent notes into the little trash bag he kept in the back of his truck. I bit my lip, shrugging. "Oh, you wanna keep post-it chatting? We can, if you want, or we can talk, or we can make out. I actually prefer the third option, in case you were wondering."

I ripped a sheet of paper out of my notebook and answered via note.

Make out. I need you, need you, need you.

"Wow, you need me times three? You make me feel so special, Clem," he continued to laugh, leaning over our piles of lunchtime homework to sweeten my lips with his own. I pried my hands from my books and let them drop to the floor so that I could hold Kyla closer. "I feel so different when I'm with you."

"So do I," I whispered into his mouth. "I feel like I'm myself. I don't get that with anyone else. All the lies get replaced with truths when it's just us."

"We are nothing but a big lie, Clem," Kyla muttered, drawing away from me. I tugged on his hair, drawing him back. We only had about ten more minutes until the bell would ring and we'd be forced back into the hell that was high school. It wasn't like we had much time to get these kisses in. "We can't even fucking tell people we mess around."

"That's because people are idiots." My hands greedily took his face and forced us to mold, silencing Kyla for a moment.

When he finally got me off of him, he started adjusting his clothing. "We aren't dating or anything. You get that, right? We just have extra fun together. It's like being friends with benefits, I guess," he explained, sure not to meet my eyes.

I cocked my head to the side. "But w-we kiss and... and I love you? Why can't we date?"

Kyla gave me a sharp glare, "I don't date boys."

"Pretend I'm a girl then. Whatever makes you want me," I offered, regretting it the moment I said it. "I just... I want to be with you, Kyla. I can't describe how intensely I want to be yours."

"This is less love and more infatuation, Clem."

"No, I love you. I know you. I want to be part of you." The admission has me crawling back into myself, ready to grab my backpack and bolt inside without my only friend by my side. That was something I never did. Normally, if Kyla missed school, so did I. It was too hard to handle it without him.

"Wow," Kyla clicked his lips. "You are really into me."

"Most days, I feel like I'm nothing but into you," I whispered, dropping my head low. "My feelings for you are so overcoming. They make me feel like I'm being strangled half the time."

A note was dropped onto my lap. I had to read it four times to make sure I wasn't hallucinating: I know how you feel. How I feel about you is destructive and I swear it will ruin me. Fuck consequences. I want you.

I stared at him, my lips curling into a smile. "Fuck consequences," I agreed quietly, my mouth not used to forming curses. "I-I want you too."

Kyla took my hand, guiding it across his face. "Skip our last periods with me. Let's go back to your place and talk about this," he murmured, bringing my lips against his lightly.

Without hesitation, I nodded. Both of my parents were at work and would be until six o'clock. It wouldn't pose an issue for us to go to my house to talk in private. Maybe we'd end up having a little date-like thing where we'd cuddle and go in depth on how exactly we feel each about each other. Maybe Kyla would properly ask me to be his boyfriend instead of just scribbling a brief proclamation on a post-it note.

The possibilities were endless and totally worth skipping class for.

When we got to my house, Kyla didn't want any of that. He just wanted to make out and ignore any progress we'd made. I had to force him to lay down with me and talk. "I don't care if we have to hide," I promised, running my fingers along his cheek. I was on my side, staring at him, while he was on his back on my bed.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll never speak to you again, Clem."

"I'd never jeopardize this," I promised, my voice thick with all the emotions I was trying to squelch. "Would your parents throw you out if they knew?"

"Knew what?" he asked, his voice high and defensive.

"About us, obviously."

"My dad would probably beat the shit out of me, Clem," Kyla murmured, opening his arm for me. I clung to his chest, hiding my face in his side. In the silence, I promised I'd protect him. As long as I was by his side, I wouldn't let anything happen to him. "Why do you care so much about me?"

"I just do," I explained. "I can't really put it into words."

"You've always been terrible with words."

"I'm better with silence and kisses," I whispered, applying a collection of kisses to his face.

When I told him that I loved him again before he left to get home, still attempting to keep up the facade that he'd been at school that whole time for his parents, Kyla simply kissed my cheek and was off.

My mom called, asking why she got a message about me missing the second half of school. I apologized, feeding her a lie about being sick and Kyla taking care of me.

That was one of the first lies I'd ever told my parents and it definitely wasn't my last.