Reaction by Jessica Roberts

twenty-one since I’ve really only lived eighteen years, though technically I’ve been alive for twenty-one years.”
    “Huh, good question,” Creed mused.
    “Cuz I still feel like I’m eighteen.”
    “Well, you’ve always been older than your age.”
    “What do you mean by that?” my head thrust back a notch.
    “You grew up fast, Heath. You had to.”
    After considering his comment, I decided he was right. When Mom died, things changed. I knew this due to the surfacing memories of late. Doing laundry, preparing all my meals, cleaning up the house, forcing myself to do well in school and go to work at the library each day, these were all tasks I was required to take on. But they were necessities, not choices. If I had a choice, I doubted I would have been as responsible back then. And how could I forget all the stupid, irresponsible, immature things I’d done over the first six months of college, such as lying to everyone about my family, and pretending I was someone I wasn’t? Maybe I was forced to grow up, but I certainly wasn’t a grown up.
    My elbow went to the couch-back and my mulling head rested on my hand. “I don’t think you’d be very proud of me if you knew some of the things I’ve done.”
    “Heath,” he reached for me and pulled me across the couch next to him, placing my head on his shoulder and then readjusting the blanket. “Why are you always so hard on yourself? Let it go.”
    I cuddled into his solid frame, feeling loved and understood and peaceful. There was nothing so refreshing as knowing you’re unconditionally accepted by someone, faults and all. It felt heavenly to be able to trust him completely, with my life, my well-being, my weaknesses, and especially my feelings. He would never do anything to hurt me. He was solid, my rock.
    “You know, when I was…sleeping for all those years, I dreamt about you.”
    “Oh really,” he whispered mischievously, playing with the innuendo.
    “Not like that , loser.” He received a nice smack against his chest.
    “Ouch,” he joked. “So what if it was ‘like that’? It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”
    “You’re not serious?” I lifted to catch the look on his face, but he rested my head back on his shoulder, preventing me. It wasn’t like him to hide his feelings. Unless the feelings were actual feelings .
    Interesting ideas slowly began to circle in my head.
    “Can you think of us that way?” I heard myself ask.
    “With this other guy,” he began, completely evading my question, “are you sure you want to put yourself out there like you are? What if it ends badly?”
    Instead of restating my question that he utterly tossed by the wayside, I chose instead to answer his. “Honestly, I don’t know. But what are my options?”
    “You have options,” he said in a way that made me think he might not want to evade my question after all.
    “And you’re one of them?” Forcing myself up too fast for him to prevent me, I sat upright, expecting to see dimples. To my distress, there was a straight face instead.
    “You and I can’t go there, Creed,” I said quickly, looking down as I admitted this next part. “It’s selfish of me, but I need you too much to risk that and have it not work out.
    “How do you know it won’t work out?”
    “I just know. You can’t be intimate with someone and then go back to being friends. It just doesn’t work that way. And I can’t risk not having you in my life. You’re the only family I have. And even if you weren’t, you mean too much to me.”
    “My point exactly. And you think no two people in the entire world have ever kissed and then decided to be friends?”
    “No two people as close as we are.”
    “A kiss is not that big of a deal, Heath. People kiss all the time.”
    “No they don’t. If they do, they shouldn’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “Because a kiss is…it’s one of the most intimate gestures you can share with someone.”
    “Don’t get me wrong.