Maybe In Another Life | Kellic (boyxboy)

Living room

I look through the few things Vic's mom still keeps on the living room, wondering if she's planning on getting rid of anything else. I take a look at the books she has on the shelves near the dining room and laugh at some romance novel titles stacked up in there. I think I didn't need to know she was into that sort of literature. I let my fingers trace over the different colored spines and smile to myself. There's lots of poetry books and recipe books and the must-have classics. It's a pretty good collection, if you ask me.

I go to the kitchen next, and I swear I can still see Vic and me as teenagers trying to bake cookies one night we were bored and didn't feel like going out (we almost burned the house down, but I won't get into that). Or how Vic once tried to make me a fancy dinner and he succeeded only because Vivian came down to help him with the seasoning of the steak he was making because he didn't remember the ingredients. I can't help but to smile at the memories I never thought I'd think about again.

Then I sigh to myself. You know, I could actually go for a drink now.

I open the fridge and see it half empty, but at least I find the beers easily and I grab one, not thinking Vic will mind. I uncap the bottle and quickly take a sip, closing my eyes at how good the cold liquid feels going down my throat.

After the third sip I go back to the living room and sit on the couch, suddenly remembering the envelope burning a hole in my pocket. Maybe right now is as good a time as any to read it. But I'm not sure I want to reopen that wound yet. Or ever.

Either way I take out the folded paper and stare at my name written in black ink. Do I really want to read this? I mean, it won't change anything. It won't bring us back in time. It won't take anything that happened away. But I have this feeling inside telling I will regret it if I don't read this when I so easily can.

I take a deep breath and finish the beer in two gulps. Liquid confidence, right? And I tear open the envelope, carefully taking out the folded paper. I look at the scribbled lines of ink inside, Vic's messy handwriting covering the page. I am about to unfold it when I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Shit," I curse to myself and quickly fold back the letter and hide it under one of the cushions just as I see Vic walking into the living room.

"Hey," he says, rubbing his eyes. "Did I fall asleep?"

I stand up, praying that the cushion stays that way forever and nod. "You did."

"Damn," he shakes his head. Okay, he doesn't know I also fell asleep and cuddled him for who knows how long. "Sorry, I've been a little tired lately."

"That's alright," I dismiss him. He doesn't owe me an explanation. He doesn't owe me anything.

"Oh I see you found the good stuff," he chuckles once he sees the empty beer bottle on the table. Fuck. I should've put it away. He sees my more than mortified face and laughs harder. "Don't worry Kells, I wanted one anyway."

He walks to the kitchen and I follow him, to take away the bottle of course. When he opens the fridge he takes out two more bottles, uncaps them and hands me another one.

"Cheers," he smiles. I take it and we clink them.

I never thought I'd ever get to drink beer in this house without my heart pounding in my chest over the possibility of getting caught by Vic's parents, but a lot of improbable things have happened today. I shouldn't even be surprised.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Vic smirks and I look back to him.

"That this is hilariously ironic?" I joke and he laughs.

"Every Friday night..." he ponders, making me chuckle at the memory.

Literally every week we used to sneak out and buy ourselves beers in secret. We knew a guy back then. We thought we were so cool.