12 Months (Tom Holland)

December

     I never did tell Tom what he called me about, I figured if I was going to respect Tom I might as well respect drunk Tom.  Besides, if I had shown him his text to me, our friendship could've changed for the worse and I loved where we were, even if I did want more.

    For Christmas break, the Holland family went back to London for a bit for one of Tom's movie premieres. They were said to get back before New Year's Eve, but with the way the weather had been acting lately, I doubted they would return then.

   Tom and I kept touch most days. The day of the film premiere, we FaceTimed while he got ready and showed me the red carpet a little bit. He even had one of his costars say hi to me and I couldn't contain my excitement. He hung up once an interviewer waltzed over to him and he promised to call me back. He never did, but I wasn't worried.

   The day of New Year's Eve, I was at Harrison's house, helping him set up for his New Year's Eve party. He only wanted a few friends so it could be an intimate get together, but Lord knows that word spreads fast at Little Valley. Once the word caught wind about Harrison's party, 100 people messaged him, telling him that they would be there.

I held the door open as Harrison brought in a keg. To this day, I still don't know how he acquired one; no fake ID would work, the boy looks 13. He shuffled in and dropped it in the middle of the living room, letting out a huff before placing his hands on his hips. "Are your parents ever home?" I asked him. It seemed like every time I was at his house, there was always a party or his parents were gone for work. Harrison shrugged, "Usually, but they are very busy people." "I can tell," I left the house and returned to his car, grabbing the carton of vodka he miraculously purchased.

At around noon we were done setting up and headed to town to grab a bite to eat. We settled at McDonalds and sat across from one another, devouring our food. "So when does your boy toy get back?" Harrison stuffed ten fries into his mouth. "He's not my boy toy," I started, "But he's supposed to be back either tonight or tomorrow. He messaged you about the party didn't he?"

"He did, but I doubt he's gonna go. He's probably used to the fancy parties again," Harrison searched his box of fries for anymore, but there were none left so he started eating mine, "He too is your boy toy, Kennedy. You got that boy whipped." Once he finished his sentence, he pretended to crack a whip, even making the sound effects. I rolled my eyes and smiled slightly at his nonsense. "Just because we hang a lot doesn't mean he's whipped in any way."

"When he cancels plans because you need help on homework or because you have a slight headache, means he's pretty whipped. You have him under your spell," He took my fries off the tray. "You're exaggerating that," I rolled my eyes and took our trash to the garbage bin, "We're close. What's wrong with being close?"

"Um...when you both have feelings for one another and haven't done anything," Harrison replied, "Harry told me about your Thanksgiving dinner fiasco. Must have been embarrassing." "How do you even know Harry?" "He's in my study hall. Plus I am Tom's friend too, Kenny. I've met his family," Harrison grabbed the keys off the table and we headed out of McDonalds.

The day was relatively nice; there hadn't been any snow all month and the weather was about high 30s, so we didn't have to layer up. Harrison turned the radio down, wanting to continue our conversation, "I'm no snitch bitch, but the boy's told me about his feelings for you." I whipped my head from the window to his gaze quickly. Even at Thanksgiving I hadn't heard about this, but friendships are different than family. People tend to spill their darker secrets to someone they chose to be with. "What did he say?"

Harrison's eyes returned to the road as he pressed on the brakes gradually for a red light. "During your fight, he got hammered and spilled everything. He was like 'I like her Harrison. I can't let go of someone like that' and all that boohoo shit." This took me back to Thanksgiving when Tom had texted me. I told Harrison about it and he didn't seem surprised. "Just get together. Why even do your whole year pact if you're itching to bone one another?" He asked.