𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄;
PERPETUALLY LATE

— REESE LOGAN WAS PERPETUALLY late to everything. She was born two weeks later than her due date, she was the last out of all her friends to get her period, she was late to school almost every day, she almost missed the junior prom and she was twenty minutes late to the date that her first boyfriend broke up with her on. She'd inherited that particular trait from her father who ran by his own clock, that was generally an hour and a half behind everyone else's. It drove her mother up a wall. That Thursday morning was no different, and just because it was her family's funeral didn't mean it would be.

She'd been at the church for almost a half an hour, sitting in her father's — well, now her's she supposed — running car that was parked in the back of the lot away from the other cars. Classic rock was booming through the speakers, and even though she wasn't a huge Kenny Loggins fan, Reese didn't change the station — not that she could, but she also wouldn't — because it was her father's favorite tape; actually, it was his only tape. It had gotten jammed during the summer of '87 when Paul and Mallory Logan were rushing to the hospital when the contractions were five minutes apart.

Kenny Loggins was playing over the speakers of the family owned pizza shop set in the center of the small Plymouth town when Paul was told that he had finally had enough money to buy a house for his budding family, albeit small and old, but it was something that he had gotten all by himself. And it played while they moved it; a heavily pregnant Mallory swinging with a ten year old Reese to Footloose as Paul positioned a family portrait on the wall of the living room.

Kenny Loggins was playing the day the Logan's died, too; Danger Zone was coming softly from the radio when the small house that Paul had spent years working a shit job to buy erupted into a fiery blaze. The fire occurred at almost three in the afternoon, only about five minutes after Reese had left with her little siblings to go for a drive around the block. Mallory had been a mess the last time Reese had seen her, and if the teenager didn't know any better — which she did — she would had thought that her mother knew that she was about to die.

According to the fire Marshall, her father had been about to boil some water for tea when the gas stove exploded. Reese was told that no one suffered, but that was a lie because she was suffering. She remembered the sickening feeling in her gut when she turned onto Sunrise Street and saw the fire engines rushing ahead of them to the house that had peeling blue paint and a white picket fence. She remembered the potent stench of gas contaminating their neighborhood. Reese had nearly crashed into a telephone pole when she saw the angry red flames licking up the old wood porch that had the swing with Logan written on the side. She had wanted to run inside — whether to try and save her parents or to die with them, she didn't know — but was stopped by the cries of Annmarie and Taylor.

"They're gone," she'd been told, holding her siblings close to her. "I'm so sorry."

Reese had been the one to identify her parents, examining their burnt corpses and recognizing the clothes that they'd last been wearing: Mallory's sweatshirt that had Annmarie's hand prints painted on it — a mother's day gift — and Paul's absurd tie that was his personal form of sticking-it-to-the-man at his nine-to-five job. Her loving mother and father were gone, and all she had left of the house she'd grown up in was her mother's engagement ring and a varsity letter pin her father had gotten his junior year for football. Most pictures had been burned, save for a singular box that a firefighter had managed to rescue. Most of their clothes had been turned to ash and the happy memories her family had made in their little house were destroyed.

"Shit," Reese cursed, the embers from the cigarette she held in her fingers burning the exposed skin on her thigh.

Figuring that was a sign from God to attend her family's funeral — because apparently it's rude to miss — Reese grabbed the black coat one of her friends had lent her from the backseat and threw it over her shoulders to protect her body from the cold air outside. It was abnormally cold for November, but Reese was thankful it wasn't hot. She couldn't stand the heat; not anymore, at least. She took one last drag from the dwindling cigarette before dropping it on the ground and making her way through the front doors of the church, sending a nod to one of the nuns who gave her an odd look as if wondering why the eldest daughter of the recently deceased was showing up late. Reese ignored her.

The Priest was about half way through his sermon when Reese entered the nave. The thick oak doors slammed shut behind her, the noise disturbing the grieving patrons. Some turned to glare at whoever was rude enough to show up to a funeral late, but when their eyes locked on the teenager that looked so much like her mother — who was resting in of of the two boxes on the alter — they instead chose to send her pity filled stares. Reese hated it.

Relatives of the deceased sit in the first pew, and there was only one occupant; her curly hair was tied up in an intricate bun and the all black attire made her already pale skin look sickly. Reese walked down the aisle with her head held high, settling in the row with the aunt she'd only met twice. Annmarie and Taylor didn't quite understand what exactly had happened to their parents — a natural thing for young children —, and Reese had spotted them being watched by one of the nuns as they played on the play ground beside the convent.

Elizabeth Piedmont didn't even turn to look at her niece — even though Reese was one of the only living family members she had now — and kept her eyes forward staring at the box that had a sign that read MALLORY LOGAN in big, sympathetic letters beside it. Reese didn't try to comfort her aunt either, not seeing the point. The woman looked mildly upset, not like she'd just lost her older sister and her beloved husband. In fact, the two were probably the most unemotional individuals in the entire church. Even the Priest let a few tears drop; but not them. Reese blamed it on her ability to compartmentalize her emotions; her aunt, well, she decided that Elizabeth was just a stone cold bitch.

Reese's eyes remained dry through her aunt's monotone speech and her father's friend's musical number and it bothered Reese that everyone kept looking at her like they were waiting for her to break down. The service went by quickly, what with Reese's thoughts wandering elsewhere. It was ten thirty on a Thursday, that meant that she had biology next period, not that she would be going for obvious reasons. Not a lot of students were attending school that day it seemed, because if Reese bothered to look over her shoulder, she would easily spot her and her sibling's classmates. They were sat beside their parents trying to pretend like they didn't want to be anywhere else at that point in time. Reese's blood boiled at that thought; how disrespectful of them to use her family's deaths as an excuse to not go to school, considering most of the pretenders weren't even friends of their friends' friends.

None of the Logan's were particularly popular among their fellow residents, they were pretty odd compared to them; Mallory Logan was born into a family of so called witches, her great-great-something-or-another had been hanged for witchcraft so none of the Piedmont women were well liked in the judgy town. Paul Logan was a teen father and a high school drop out; he'd opted for taking over his father's factory the day Mallory had gotten knocked up, because her parents wouldn't let her stay with them and Paul's father was too religious to even think about having a baby born into wedlock living under his roof. Annmarie, Reese's little sister, liked girls; and even though she got mean comments and nasty looks thrown her way, the young firecracker continued pinning after the prettiest girl in her grade — and that girl maybe liked her back, not that they would ever find out because they were moving across the country, but Reese was sure the girl liked Anne back. Taylor, the youngest of the Logan's, hung out with more girls than he did boys; he didn't pull on girl's hair or throw rocks at them to get their attention, finding that he would much rather play kitchen with them — like he did with his older sister — than get pushed around on the playground. And Reese was just plain odd. She cut her own hair, the pretty honey blonde locks always choppy and at her shoulders. She wore little to no makeup — unlike the girls in her grade — and she wore clothes that went out of style in the early nineties. People assumed she was on drugs, but Reese was just doing everything she could to be different than her mother — she was sick and tired of being called little Mallory. But because the Logan's didn't act like copy and pasted versions of everyone else, they were deemed weird, not that it ever bothered them.

When Paul's friend finished singing his lovely song, the Priest finished the sermon directing the congregation to the cemetery at the far end of the town. Reese and Elizabeth were the first to leave the church, trailing behind the two caskets. The remaining relatives wore the same emotionless look, their lips set in a straight line and eyes filled with boredom. It was a cautionary measure so that no one would think that they needed help, because they were fine. The nun was waiting with Annmarie and Taylor when the procession exited the church, the children watching their sister with sad brown eyes. It pained Reese.

There was a sleek, black limo parked in front of the brick building, waiting to drive the quartet to the cemetery and Reese felt a slight pain in her chest when she realized just how empty the inside really was. Her aunt sat towards the partition, her eyes cast down at her meticulously painted fingernails. Reese stared out the window, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Mom would have loved this, she thought bitterly remembering the conversation she'd had with her mother where she claimed she wished she'd had more money when she got married so she could ride in a limo. Reese forced her brain not to remind her that Mallory would never get that chance. Annmarie and Taylor were pressed on either side of her, their once happy smiles gone. Reese wished she could have brought Poppy, but dogs weren't allowed in religious buildings — and Poppy would probably pee on someone's headstone, and the teen didn't want to deal with that.

Owens Cemetery was where the Logan plot was, the previously untouched earth now had two large piles of dirt pushed off to the side leaving room for the polished oak boxes to hover above the deep hole that Reese kind of wished she was going to be lowered into — oops, that was a little too dark. Elizabeth exited the limo first, her dark black heels a stark contrast to the frost covered grass. Reese followed behind her aunt, digging her hands deep into her pockets gripping the package of cigarettes tightly. She had only recently started smoking; a habit that helped numb her of the pain that losing her family could do to a person while also putting her one step towards an early grave. Her friends had said that it was bad for her, but Reese said at least it wasn't crack — not that she was wrong. The twins stepped out of the limo cautiously, their dark brown eyes casting wary looks at the hundreds of stones around them, they clutched the skirt of Reese's dress tightly as the family made their way up the small hill.

The Logan's took their respective places in the front of the sea of black clothes and somber faces, all of them staring at the boxes that were waiting to be immersed in the frozen dirt. People cried quietly when Reese led Annmarie and Taylor up to drop the final flowers into each of their parent's graves. Reese ground her teeth together, itching for a cigarette but refrained from doing so as her mother's casket was lowered first, followed by her father. By that point, the sympathizers had fled the cemetery to return to their white picket fences and apple pies, leaving Reese and her siblings alone with Elizabeth.

Annmarie clutched one of the flowers that had fallen on the ground in her small fist, the pink petal dying her hands pink. Reese didn't know if her sister realized what was happening and that was why she was holding onto the plant like her life depended on it, or if it was because she liked it. Taylor was sitting on the carpet that the chairs rested on, he had one of his army soldiers in his hands — it was a gift from Elizabeth — and bounced it from empty chair to empty chair. Reese wished she could have been as unaffected by the death of her parents, maybe then it wouldn't hurt so bad, but, on the other hand, she was glad for the pain because it meant that she remembered them. Annmarie and Taylor wouldn't; they wouldn't remember how Mallory's hair smelled like peaches and how her specialty lasagna — which they all knew was store bought — tasted; they wouldn't remember Paul's smile and how he sneaked them sweets after dinner — even if Mallory said no. It was little things like that that the twins didn't have, sure they would remember what they looked like from pictures, but they wouldn't remember how their voices sounded. It made Reese want to break down and cry.

Reese felt her eyes burn as tears fell from her sad brown eyes, a choked sob escaping her lungs as she sunk back into one of the padded folding chairs. Annmarie and Taylor weren't sure why Reese was crying, but they mimicked her actions letting out little wails as their chubby hands rubbed that the eyes they shared with their father. Elizabeth made no move to comfort them but sat down beside her youngest niece, and Reese knew that was all she was capable of at the moment; she looked too much like Mallory. Neither of them said anything as the crane dumped the dirt over the forever young couple, locking them in the ground forever. Reese wiped the evidence of the tears from her eyes, standing up from the chair — ignoring the complaining from her cold muscles — and held her hands out for the siblings that were now her responsibility to grab so she could lead them towards the limo that was waiting for the remaining family members.

Reese thanked the driver when he opened the door, letting Annmarie and Taylor climb into the warm cab first and then followed them in. Elizabeth was still sitting in the uncomfortable chairs, her head in her hands, probably allowing herself a moment to break down, so Reese looked away to let her grieve in peace and plucked her purple lighter from her coat pocket, rubbing her finger against the spark wheel and stared at the flame it hatefully — hating what it stole from her.

"Reesey," Annmarie's soft voice whispered, the little girl tugging at a run in her black tights. "When will we see mommy and daddy again?"

Reese's heart skipped a beat. She didn't know how to explain to two six year old children that their mommy and daddy were never coming back. How does one explain death to children who just want to be read bedtime stories and be cuddled on Sunday mornings? "Not for a long time," was what Reese decided to go with.

"But I want mommy now!" Taylor cried, rubbing his eyes furiously. "I want mommy."

"Me too," Annmarie hiccuped, her lashes wet from her tears. "I don't want you, I want mommy!"

That hurt, Reese thought, but she couldn't blame them. For the past few days, Reese had been as emotionally unavailable as a pet rock, but they couldn't blame her for that either. It wasn't just Annmarie and Taylor who had lost their mommy and daddy, Reese did too. She lost the woman who would kiss her scraped knees and read the Sunday comics with her, she lost the man who taught Reese how to fish and that the most important thing in life was family. Reese had lost someone too.

"I'm sorry," Reese whispered, not knowing how to tell them that she was all they had now. "I'm so sorry."

The twins hugged each other, their sobs echoing around the limo. Reese reached for the pack of Marlboro's in her pocket, when her fingers brushed over the frame of a varsity letter pin. Reese pulled it out, letting the cigarettes slip back into the depths of the coat. It was melted beyond recognition and it wouldn't have meant jack shit to anyone but Reese, she clutched it tightly using it as a conduit to see her father's smile. She put the lighter down, her need for nicotine replaced by a memory of Paul, her beloved dad. The door was swung open for a second time, Elizabeth slipping in across from Reese. Her watery eyes locked on the pin as well.

"Was that Paul's?" Elizabeth asked quietly after a while of silence, not wanting to bother the twins who were holding onto each other tightly, their cries in sync.

"Yeah," Reese whispered, running her finger down the side of the pin affectionately. "He kept putting it on the wall of our school pictures and stuff. It drives mom nuts-" she cut herself off abruptly, clearing her throat of emotion. "It drove mom nuts."

Elizabeth nodded, not quite knowing what to say. She wasn't an emotional person, and neither was Reese, so they suffered silently. "Are you guys all packed up?" Elizabeth finally asked.

Reese had almost forgotten one of the changes that came with dead parents; the biggest change — besides becoming an orphan, because that's fucking rough — was moving. Elizabeth lived in a speck on the map town — not that Plymouth was much bigger — all the way in Forks, Washington on the other side of the country; but considering she had no other family, the girl had no choice but to leave Minnesota. The three Logan's and Elizabeth were hitting the road for the two day drive directly after the funeral, so Reese had spent the previous day with the twins throwing what was left of their belongings into boxes. Unfortunately, most of their clothes couldn't be salvaged from the wreckage, so Reese only had a few crates filled with donations from some girls she's gone to school with whose parents took pity on her, and the twins had even less. The personal items that survived the blaze fit nicely into a shoe box; Reese didn't like to think about the fact that her entire childhood had been reduced to a fucking shoe box because when she did, it made her want to dig a hole in the ground next to her parents and bury herself alive — not to be dramatic.

The limo brought the family back to the church, the driver bidding them a nice afternoon with a side of pity before pulling out of the parking lot. Reese clutched Annmarie to her chest, and Elizabeth cradled Taylor, the two carrying them towards Elizabeth's car where their car seats had been transferred. Elizabeth had a dark blue Acura with recently treated leather seats that was barely a year old and it looked like a Lamborghini compared to Reese's 1987 Honda that was in desperate need of a deep cleanse and a new spark plug. The two women had yet to move from their spots on the hood of Elizabeth's car after putting the twins into the vehicle.

Elizabeth broke the tension. "Pass me a smoke."

Reese blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I can smell it on you," Elizabeth rolled her eyes, holding her hand out. "I promised Mal I'd give it up, but I really fucking need one right now."

Reese reached into her jacket, her fingers plucking the half empty carton from her pocket and handing it to her aunt, who thanked her softly and grabbed a cigarette with shaking hands. Reese passed her the lighter, watching Elizabeth sigh in relief as the nicotine entered her blood stream. Reese repeated her aunt's actions, pulling the smoke into her lungs and blowing it out into the cool air. When flurries began to fall from the sky, sticking to the road and pavement, Reese stood up, pulling in one last drag before crushing what what left of her cigarette under her foot.

"We should go," she said, Elizabeth nodding in agreement and crushed her own cigarette. "I have to drop the car off, and the junk yard closes in an hour."

"I'll meet you there," Elizabeth cleared her throat, digging her hands into her pockets. "Do you want me to grab your-"

"No," Reese cut her off sharply. "I'll get it."

With that, Reese stalked off to the far end of the parking lot where she'd left her car. She ducked inside, putting the key in the ignition and turning it quickly so that the heat would remove the chill from the cab. When the car turned on, Kenny Loggins played from the speakers — the same song that had been on when she'd decided to attend the funeral — and Reese reached to shut it off, but couldn't find it in her to actually do it. Paul loved Kenny, he listened to him religiously and knew all of his songs by heart; Reese loved her father, and if Kenny Loggins was all that she had left of him, then she would suck it up.

Reese pulled out onto the main road, nodding to Elizabeth as they went separate ways; Reese back to her house and Elizabeth to pick up Poppy from a friend of Paul's whose wife agreed to watch the puppy during the funeral. The drive to the house was like a dream, Reese barely remembered stopping at the red lights and before she knew it she was stopped on the corner of Sunrise and May. Her foot wouldn't move off the break, she stared at the green street sign feeling the tears well up in her eyes again. She could practically smell the gas from where she stood — even though it had long since disappeared — and she remembered the flames and dark smoke. Reese didn't want to turn left. Turning left meant that she would see the bones of her home, the home that had nurtured her and the home her parents had died in. Reese didn't think she could handle that.

A honk from behind her forced her foot onto the gas pedal, her hands rotating the wheel to the left. Her car slowly moved onto Sunrise Street, as if it didn't want to go there any more than she did. The house was number five, and she could already make out the burnt grass and singed tree; the grass her siblings had been playing in only days previous and the tree she'd been reading under. It was crazy how things could change so quickly.

Reese pulled into the driveway, and let out a deep breath. Her hands were shaking terribly and it took everything in her not to just say fuck it and leave all her shit there — it wasn't like there was really anything left — but she owed it to her siblings to get that remnants of parents they will hardly remember. So Reese Logan kicked open the door and trudged up the familiar steps into the house, ignoring the caution tape that made a big X over the front door. It was her house and if she was going to die there so be it.

"Jesus," Reese mumbled to herself, her green eyes flickering around what was left of the living room as she maneuvered around the debris.

The five boxes were placed in the space a couch had once been — the same couch her mother had been on when the gas stove exploded — and Reese nearly vomited. Her stomach lurched, but she urged herself to calm down. Throwing up wouldn't bring her parents back and it wouldn't make the house less destroyed, in fact it would probably just ruin her already sour mood. She fumbled around the little yellow cones the fire department had left to show where the weak spots in the wood floor was.

Reese knelt down in front of the box that had Annmarie's things inside, she flicked through the clothing making note that she would need another winter coat because the one she had in the box had burn spots on it, and Annmarie didn't need a reminder of the fire that had killed her loving parents. Taylor had two boxes, his clothes being the least ruined due to the fact that his bed room was the farthest from the blaze. The smallest box belonged to Reese; most of the items were donations but a few of her own clothing was inside. The putrid smell of gas clung to them like a bad ex, and it took everything Reese had not to toss it all away.

The last box was no bigger than a shoe box — actually, it might have been one — and held Mallory and Paul's surviving items: her mother's engagement ring being one of the things. Reese plucked the jewelry from it's place, and rubbed off the layer of ash that coated it so she could see the diamond. It was smaller than the diamonds her friend's mothers adorned, but it had been all a twenty year old Paul could manage. Mallory never complained or grew envious over other women's rings, her eyes shined with pride at her dainty gold band. Reese pocketed it. She would gladly spit the other things between her aunt and siblings, but she wanted the ring. She deserved to get it. Elizabeth was hardly a part of Mallory's life after she'd gotten pregnant with Reese, and Annmarie and Taylor wouldn't care about a little ring that they didn't know the meaning of.

One by one, Reese carried the boxes out to the car, carefully placing them in the trunk. When she was finished, she walked back into the house. Reese ran her hand over the crispy walls and the destroyed furniture, letting the memories rush through her. She knew that she would never see the house again, and if she ever returned — which she didn't plan on doing, ever — it wouldn't be the same; there wouldn't be little lined carved into a kitchen wall to show how the children had grown over the years, the dent in the wall at the bottom of the stairs would be fixed and the scribbles on the wall in the hallway would be painted over. A new family would move in, and they — hopefully — wouldn't suffer the same fate that the Logan family.

Reese blinked away that tears and quickly fled the house, not being able to stay in there another minute. As she turned to get back into her car a meow stopped her, squeezing under the white fence was Garfield — the orange tabby that frequently visited. He purred loudly as he brushed up against Reese's leg, looking up at her with his amber eyes. Reese reached down and stroked his soft fur, his head cocked to the side as if he was wondering why she was the only one there. There was no Poppy trying to get him to play or small children trying to pick him up. It was just Reese.

"They're not coming back," Reese informed the cat, and, as if he could understand her, he let out a sad mewl. "Yeah, I know, buddy."

Reese scratched between his ears one last time before standing up and heading towards her car. He trailed after her, moving to jump into the front seat when she pulled back the handle. "No, Garfield," Reese shouted, quickly pulling him out before he could make himself comfortable in the passengers side. "You can't come," she told him.

She placed him on a the stone steps that led up to the front door, muttering a goodbye to the feline as she quickly hopped into the car. Garfield watched with sad eyes as she back out into the street, leaving him with an empty house and no one there to feed him treats. Reese sniffled, turning right onto May Avenue, leaving Sunrise Street — and the sad cat — behind.

Her next stop was the junkyard; the only place that would take her father's car, because no one else wanted the hunk of junk. The whole drive, Reese had contemplated just calling up Elizabeth and telling the woman that she would just drive the car Forks, but the thing had over 100,000 miles and probably wouldn't make it without sputtering and ending up useless on the side of the road. Reese had no choice but to let go of the car, so she continued on to Pete's Junkyard.

It was about a fifteen minute drive from her house, and Reese spent the entire time listening to the Kenny Loggins tape. Had it been a few months ago, she would have rolled the window down and belted out the lyrics and her father probably would have been in the seat beside her singing along, while trying not to panic at Reese's terrible driving. But it wasn't a few months ago, and Reese didn't have the windows down or the music blasting so loudly she could barely hear herself think. She drove in silence, letting the sound of Danny's Song echo around the car.

Reese pulled into Pete's, and saw Elizabeth's car waiting by the entrance. The twins were running around the abandoned vehicles with Poppy chasing behind them, it was almost enough to make Reese smile. Almost. Reese continued on, driving all the way to the back where the other old cars were lined up waiting to be crushed. Reese put her dad's car in park, letting her head drop down and hit the steering wheel, the horn ringing loudly. She felt the tears well up for the third time that day, letting go of the car was harder than she thought it was going to be. There was only a few things that she had left of Paul Logan, and this car was one of them and she was about to watch it get crushed. Talk about depressing.

A worker knocking on the window was the only reason Reese turned the vehicle off. Her ears were ringing and she couldn't really hear what he was saying to her, but the message was clear: it was time to go. Reese ran her hands over the steering wheel affectionately, not because she loved the car but because it was pretty much all that she had left of her father. A second knock on the window made her body go into motion; Reese grabbed a pencil that had been rolling around on the floor and jammed it into the stereo where her father's lone cassette was stuck. After a couple moments of fumbling — and a third knock — Reese retrieved the tape that had been stuck for almost eighteen years. Reese smiled triumphantly and tossed it into her shoe box of memories that was placed on the passengers side seat then pushed open the door, allowing the worker to take her place.

As Reese transported the boxes in the trunk of Elizabeth's car and helped the twins into their booster seats and placed Poppy into the back where the puppy settled on the floor under Annmarie's feet. Reese glanced over her shoulder watching as her dad's car was rolled towards a machine was was going to crush it down to practically nothing. As Elizabeth drove out of the junkyard, Reese spun around once more watching as her car was dropped down into the still growing pile of rusted metal and broken parts. Her heart ached knowing that one of the only things she had left of her father was gone, but she didn't say anything — because she was handling it — and instead turned forward to watch the sun sink below the horizon as Elizabeth drove them to Forks where, unbeknownst to her, Reese would meet someone who would make her feel better not completely fixed, but better.

authors note: thank you to all of the people who are putting up with me unpublishing and republishing this chapter and changing some things,,also shout out to my best friend kara !!!! i love her and all of her stories and you guys should totally check her out !!!! also,, in her book bad habits reese, flynn and reyna will all be making an appearance and her character mav will be featured in this series as well just to let you guys know !