12 Months (Tom Holland)

October

     The month was nearing its end and Tom and I still hadn't spoke to one another since the fight. We sat at separate tables during lunch; I sat with Graham and his buddies whilst Tom and Harrison sat together. To say I didn't miss him would be a fucking lie. He always caught me staring at him and he would glare. I wanted my best friend back, even if I didn't deserve him.

    As Graham and I walked across the hallway to get to class he asked me about Harrison's Halloween Bash. "You're going, right? It's a costume party and I had some great couple costume ideas," he continued but I drowned him out. Someone shoved past me and I realized it was Tom. "Move," he grumbled and I nearly wanted to cry.

    I stopped Graham in the middle of the hallway, "I need to talk to you." His facial expression dropped as he heard the sincerity of my voice. I continued, "We liked each other in eighth grade, but that was four years ago. There's no connection between us now, Graham." "What do you mean? Of course there is, we work together," he stammered. "We work as acquaintances, maybe even friends, but we don't work as lovers. I'm sorry," with that, I walked the opposite direction, deciding to skip class.

    I made my way to the discus court about a hundred feet from the school, sat down, and caught up on homework. A tear streamed down my face and I let it fall; I deserve to feel the hurt. My phone buzzed and I checked it, seeing a text from Harrison.

    Please come to the party tonight, Ken. I miss you.

    I smiled ruefully as I answered the text, telling him that I would be there. The party would be good for me. It would help me get a lot of things off of my mind, even if just for a few hours. Closing my textbook, I returned to the school and took out my belongings for the next class. I closed my locker and jumped when I saw Harrison inches from my face. "Jesus," I exclaimed, "What do you want? I just texted you."

    "It's not about that. It's about Tom, Ken. He's a mess. You guys seriously need to make up," He told me as we walked to AP Bio. "I wish that were true," I sighed in exasperation, "I've seen how he acts around me. He hates my guts, I don't blame him. I'm a bitch." Harrison rolled his eyes, "We're all bitches, Kennedy. Go kiss and make up so we can all hang out. He's coming to the party tonight. Bump into him and say your apologies." "And here I thought you invited me because you enjoyed my company," I said sarcastically as the two of us took our seats.

    After school, I had stopped by the costume shop and picked out a flapper girl costume that seemed not to slutty but not too modest. I told my mom where I was going and she gave me her nod of approval and at ten, I drove off, heading towards Harrison's house.

    His front lawn was packed with cars and I could hear the music from almost a block away. Getting out of my car, I shivered, regretting that I didn't buy a coat with this costume. A couple of other people I didn't really recognize came out of their cars and waved at me. We walked together into Harrison's house and went our separate ways.

    On the outside, Harrison's house was small and quaint, almost like a cozy cottage. Once I was inside, though, it was like I was in a different place. The place seemed so huge, as if I was in a mansion rather than a small house. There were at least fifty or sixty people already here and as the seconds passed, more were flooding in. I found Harrison in no time, or rather he found me. He was dressed like a pirate and held a drink in his hand. "Kennedy!" he slurred, "You came!" Yep, he was drunk. Harrison lead me into the middle of the party and danced with me for three songs. We enjoyed each other's company and I felt so absorbed in the music. He would tell jokes and dance horribly, making a fool of himself and I would crack a smile. The party was really lifting my spirits up, I really did need this.

    The third song ended and we parted ways. He went into the kitchen to grab another drink and I decided to roam around the house and see what was here. I found my way upstairs where quite a few kids were hanging out, vaping and passing along blunts. One kid that was in my Econ class handed me the blunt, but I passed it over to the next guy. If I didn't drive here I would've accepted, but I needed a clear mind. 

    Graham was up here as well and my mood dropped slightly. I felt bad for breaking up with him the way I did, but I could've said worse. Tom was right, he was a tool. Everytime we hung out he always tried to unzip my jeans and finger me and I always said no. He saw me and he waved just as a girl sat on his lap and kissed his next. He smirked as if it made me jealous, but it just made him look like an idiot. I couldn't give two shits about the guy anymore.

    I had enough of the weed odor and went downstairs and into the kitchen. Not wanting the alcohol that was so blatantly there, I instead opened the fridge and found a carton of apple juice. Pouring myself a glass, I closed the fridge and Tom was suddenly in front of me. I jumped and some of the apple juice sloshed out of the cup and onto my chest.

I didn't know what to say to him, there were so many words. I wanted to profusely apologize and beg for forgiveness until my throat bled, but I also wanted to keep it cool, considering we were at a party. I opted for none of those options and sipped my apple juice, walking past him and brushing his shoulder. Tom gently grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. "We need to talk," he said. He didn't sound hurt or full of remorse like Harrison said he would be, but rather dominant, like a father chastising their child.

My back was still turned when I spoke. "I'm trying to have a good time, Tom. Can this wait another day?" "It really can't, Ken," when he said my nickname, I felt a sudden rush of overwhelming sadness. You can't cry, Kennedy, your makeup looks so fly. I turned to him and moved slightly to the side, "Lead the way." He did and we went back upstairs to a bedroom. Tom closed and locked the door. I was perched on the bed with my legs crossed, playing with my fingers.

"I can't take us not being friends, Kennedy," he didn't sit on the bed. He stayed standing, boring holes in my head with his penetrating gaze. I kept my eyes on my fingers, too weak to make eye contact with him. "I'm sorry," my voice was a whisper, "But I don't deserve to be your friend after all the shit that went down." There was a dip in the bed and I looked up, seeing Tom inches from me. He looked sincere and so beautiful.  I wished I was drunk so I could've let my emotions take over and kiss him, but I could never have my way.  "If you're going by that, then I don't deserve to be your friend either. We both said nasty shit to each other, Kenny, we both are in the wrong. The least we could do is shove it aside and keep us strong," Tom said. He hooked his index finger under my chin and brought my face close. He pressed his lips on my forehead and kept it there for a moment or two.

"I regret everything I said to you that day. You're not a bitch, you're beautiful, strong, and stubborn. You were only trying to do what was best for me and I couldn't see that. I'm sorry," his forehead was on mine and we closed our eyes and listened to the silence, enjoying each other's  company. We then embraced and I cried on his shoulder softly. "I missed you so much, Tom," I mumbled and he dragged his fingers along my shoulders, reminding me of my mother calming me down. "I missed you too, Kenny," he pulled away and wiped the tears from my face, helping me fix my makeup. He smiled warmly as he stood up and grabbed my hand. "Now let's enjoy the rest of our night," and he led me out of the bedroom and onto the dancefloor.

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~Not edited~