Every Little Thing

16

How Reed continues to make random appearances in my life is beyond me, and yet here he is. In my kitchen, talking with my mother like they're old friends. I watch, uncertain, as he starts unloading cartons of milk, a pack of Oreos, vegetables and packaged meats. He sets these things out on the counter in a neat row, while Mom moves them to their respected spots in the fridge and pantry. I subconsciously wonder if this is all some strange kind of dream.

"It's a funny story, Evie," says my mom, even though I haven't done anything to spark any sort of conversation, "Reed here saw me walking with my groceries down the block—"

"More like wrestling with them," he jokes, and she laughs. I turn to him, a smile appearing on my face involuntarily as he directs a flash of teeth at me.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," she concedes, and then continues with, "Anyways, he offered to help me, and I recognized him from your school, but I had no idea you two were friends!"

She says the last word with such pleasure that it makes my stomach flip. Friends. That's it.

Stop it, I order myself, and force a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah," I say weakly. Reed, turning from the last grocery bag, catches my gaze. In his expression, I hear the question, spoken loud and clear.

You okay? Those blue eyes ask me, and I smile and nod, wishing that I was.

"Anyways," Mom says, filling the empty silence with more chatter, "Thank you for all the help, Reed. It's actually really nice of you; chivalry these days..."

As she rattles on, talking more than she has in the past six months, I watch him. His easy smile. His kind gaze. His friendliness, willingness to help, ability to read me like an open book.

Oh, hell, I think. It's only getting worse.

And it's true. Dammit, it's true.

Because every time he looks at me, my stomach somersaults, and every time he says my name, something inside me lifts, and when he speaks to me, there's that little voice inside my head that insists that this is all I need, that all I need is Reed Bishop in my life and all will be well.

As it turns out, not falling for someone is easier said than done.

________

"Come back for dinner," Mom says, after we've finished putting up groceries and Reed is heading out the door. I freeze, and his hand stills against the doorknob. He glances over at me with a raise of his brows, and I lift a shoulder with a half-smile.

"You don't have to," I say, quietly, "I mean, if you don't want."

His eyes drift from me to Mom, who stands behind me. She continues with a cheery,

"Well I have to pay you back somehow, don't I?"

Reed hesitates, letting out a laugh. "It was my pleasure, Ms. Moore. Honestly, groceries are hardly something worth reimbursement."

"Come on," my mom insists, her voice now somewhat pleading, "Just ask your parents; I'm sure it'll be fine—"

"Mom," I say, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, "Maybe Reed doesn't—"

"Sure," he says then, interrupting me with a smile. "I'll come. What time?"

I turn to my mother, who is beaming for the first time in ages. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me an overexcited smile before replying,