REESE DIDN'T LIKE HER ROOM BEING MESSY. She couldn't sleep if things were unorganized, which was rather unfortunate for her when she had to unpack all her things from boarding school and put away all the mess that her stepfather—a term she could hardly even use, given she didn't see him as much of a father—had placed inside her room, thinking that he could convert it despite their home having more rooms than three people needed.

She sighed as she stood in the middle of the room, trying to find a place to start. She had started by separating her things from her stepfather's things, placing them in smaller piles depending on which went where, but it was all becoming slightly overwhelming. All she had to do was start.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and raising her arms to the back of her neck, massaging the crick that had developed, opening her mouth and forcing her jaw to relax, as it tended to clench and ache when she was stressed.

With her eyes still closed, she bent over, her back popping as she tried to touch her toes. She didn't quite make it, so she bent backwards, her back popping all the way, a sigh of relief passing through her perfectly painted lips. She continued to stretch until she could finally touch her toes without any strain, rolling up slowly, her back fully stretched out when she was finished, her shoulders rolling as she stood.

She sighed as she opened her eyes, the colors changed, and she nodded to herself, reaching for the pile of her step-father's things. He was on a business trip until later that night, and if she was to get any of her things organized, she needed to get his out first.

He had multiple exercise rooms, one even dedicated purely to rowing, yet he had thought it smart to place some of his elliptical equipment in her room, along with his weights and other things that just didn't quite have a place anymore; it was as if she wasn't ever coming back.

She took a deep breath and sighed as she picked up one of his many larger mechanisms, taking it out into the hardwood floor to the wagon that she and her mother had dug up from the storage in the third garage, the wheels fixed to make sure it didn't scratch the floor. She placed a good number of the items on top before wheeling it towards the room that it fit in the best, figuring that if she placed them correctly, he wouldn't even notice.

If he did, well, he could just deal with it.

She was at least glad that she didn't have to go up or down the stairs to do this, as their home was large width wise not height wise, because she just didn't think she'd be able to get out of that unscathed, especially not with her acrylic nails, which was she going to need to get redone.

She liked lighter, nude colors rather than the brightly colored ones, it was just the way she was. That was partly why she hated her stepfather's things being in her room, it didn't match with the color scheme and overall mood, it was too loud, too abrasive, too him.

She tried not to become too upset with the mere thought of him, instead moving as quickly as possible, rearranging his things, not moving them too much so he was to become confused, but enough to place the new items in without drawing attention to them. She'd always had an eye for these sorts of things, which she appreciated at this moment especially.

She moved as quickly as she could, her thin arms straining as she moved, the thought of her giving up fueling her all the more to move faster; her stepfather always complained about girls not pulling their own weight, especially when they were more than capable, and it upset her more than anything; her intellect far outweighed her physical strength, but his standards were too confusing to navigate, and she didn't feel like pleasing him in any way.

She had to take a pause in the middle of his room and just kick over a few of his things to make herself feel better, because screaming never worked—she had tried—and she couldn't go on with this feeling of pure hatred in her chest.

It wasn't an exaggeration, she wouldn't cry if he died.

She shivered at her dark thought, instead racing back towards her room where everything was lighter and nicer and more calming, finishing up the last of the transfer before she was finally free from any and all reminders of her stepfather in her room.

She changed her sheets the minute she got home and sprayed Febreeze all over—it was a new product, but her mom liked trying new things, it was her hobby now. So there was truly nothing of her stepfather, and she intended to keep it that way.

Now she just had to deal with her own things.

She sighed as she crouched down, opening the few boxes she had taken with her, as well as the few boxes that were filled with new things that had been sent to her throughout the course of the school year.

She felt her lips curl as she pulled out a picture of her and a few of her classmates, as well as her roommate. She tried to school her features, hating the way her eyebrows furrowed and nose wrinkled as she made her way towards one of her many drawers that were leaned up against one of her walls, opening it and placing it against one of the sides, hiding the picture from any view, effectively cutting it out of her life.

Out of sight, out of mind.

She began to put everything away, alternating between the boxes and the items already taken out, replacing her lamp with the one from the one she had bought while at school, placing that in the wagon to take it back down to storage. She also set aside the nice curtains she planned on placing on poles she had bought to make her bed a canopy bed that she had always wanted.

Most of her books went into one of the drawers that she kept towards the side, typically unopened, and she tried to find a space for the hanging pod chair she had convinced her mother to let her buy when she went shopping with her right as she hopped off the plane that morning.

She liked reorganizing, because it gave her a fresh start, and she took careful consideration with everything she did, because she didn't like change unless she caused it, and she didn't like causing much change as much as possible.

She didn't even like it when plans were changed. Of course, she could be flexible, but that didn't mean she wanted to be.

She didn't even realize just how much time had passed with her organizing that it was only when her mother's voice rang through the entire house, followed by an extra set of footsteps and a closing of the door that she realized the sun had already set.

"Hi, honey!" her mother called, and Reese sighed, looking up from where she was reading on her pod chair just in time for her mother to open the door and peer in, taking a look around, "You work fast! How's settling in been, I hope you weren't too lonely today."

Reese gave her mother one of her practiced smiles, shaking her head. "No, I liked it, it was better to work when no one was around. What's for dinner?"

"Well, to celebrate, I thought we could have your favorite..." her mother sang, and Reese couldn't help but smile, because her mother liked to do things like that, finding random things to celebrate just to have an excuse to do something fun and enjoyable.

It was sweet. She was sweet.

Thankfully, she decided that Reese needed some more time to settle in and left as soon as she came, dropping her back into her blissful cocoon. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy her mother's company, but she'd rather not have to deal with another person's feelings or general person, it was incredibly exhausting at times, even though she did it much too well.

But then she heard her stepfather. It wasn't even him speaking, just him going into one of his many rooms and hopping into the stupid canoe of his to practice his rowing, as if they didn't live in Florida where he could actually go outside and practice. He always rolled his eyes and explained it wasn't the same, but it didn't matter to her.

He could die easier out in the ocean than he could in that room.

She took a deep breath and tried to focus, burying her face in her book. She looked around, licking her lips. She wondered how difficult it would be to convince her mother to let her invest in a CD player. Or maybe a record player, she always wanted one of those, it evoked nicer feelings for her.

Whatever the reason, she just tried to keep to herself, sighing as she climbed out of her pod chair to fall onto her bed, staring up at the nice curtains she had to hang up herself; she did a pretty good job overall.

She just needed to keep her stepfather at a distance and everything would be fine. Of course, that would be difficult, as she didn't have anywhere else to go, what with all the house parties only being on the weekends since all the other kids her age were still in school, and would be for the next two months. But it was no problem, she knew how to manage.

Out of sight, out of mind.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 08.20.18 )

I'm so sorry it took so long, but here's the first chapter! I'm sorry that it didn't have much dialogue, but that's because Reese is super lonely and her mom isn't really in the picture, even when she tries to be, you know?

We'll be seeing Scott soon, though, because you know I love getting them to meet in either the 3rd or 5th chapter, so we'll see how it goes!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!