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.

"All we wanted was to get drunk for some reason."

He nods and takes a sip of his bottle. "We never got to that point, though."

"True," I agree, drinking some more.

We only ever bought six packs and we liked to make them last for at least a few days, so we never drank all the bottles at once. And you can't really get drunk on one beer alone. I got truly fucked-up drunk for the first time at some party in my third year of college. It was hilarious to be honest. And I didn't think of Vic once. He was finally fading away by then.

"What's your drink of choice?" He asks and I grin at the question.

"I enjoy a good Scotch," I reply.

He gives me an amused smile. "I never took you as a whiskey guy."

I shrug my shoulders and take another sip. You really know nothing about me anymore, Vic. "Yours?"

"Same, actually."

I raise an eyebrow and smirk as we look at each other from across the counter. He looks away first.

"So..." Vic says slowly. "Want to order pizza?"

***

We were sprawled on the living room floor, two half empty boxes of pizza and more beer bottles lay on top of the center table. We were laughing at the memories of the million pranks we used to pull in high school. Vic was the class clown and I was his happy sidekick when the time called for it. And we always had a blast making everyone laugh with our shenanigans. Remembering all that was making my stomach way more dizzy than it should.

The oddest part of everything is how normal this felt. Like this was our daily routine or something, like this was our house, our living room, our own space where we could do whatever we wanted and order all the food in the world and drink as much as we'd want without parents getting pissed and just talk for hours and hours about our days after work. As if we really stayed together after high school. Like a small glimpse of the life we could've had once, but never did.

Thinking about it like that is extremely masochistic and unnerving at the same time.

"You know what I still have?" Vic says as he sits up to take a bite of another slice of pizza.

"What?" I turn to look at him from my spot on the carpet.

"My old iPod," Vic laughs

"No way that still works," I snort.

"It's good as new," he says proudly and I am actually impressed. I don't even remember what happened to mine.

He stands up and walks near the TV set where an old portable speaker rests on top of a table that I hadn't seen before. Indeed, there's his white iPod beside it.

I stand up too and follow him to look at it. "I don't even want to know what songs you have in there."

"Only our favorite jams," he shimmies his shoulders and I let out a loud laugh. We liked the same bands and singers back then, I actually still like some of those bands now, the ones that are still putting out music anyway.

He places the iPod on top of the speakers and it instantly comes to life. I could already see some of the old albums artwork and I groan out loud.

"You have that Soul Sister song in there," I shake my head. That song annoyed me to no end, I don't even know why.

"Want me to put it on?" He teases.

"Don't you dare," I fake threaten him and he laughs.

"Alright, then listen to this one," he flicks his finger on the iPod's wheel and presses the center button.

Bad Romance starts playing loudly on the speakers and I burst out laughing as Lady Gaga starts singing "caught in a bad romance".

Vic starts singing the oh-oh-oh-oh bit, grinning like a fool and when the ra-ra-ah-ah-ah parts follows he starts moving his arms getting into a little performance of his own. I keep laughing because he looks ridiculous. And he's probably nearing the drunk side to be dancing like that. When the song starts its first verse, he just keeps singing along.

"Come on, I know you still know the lyrics," he takes my hand and attempts to make me dance. I roll my eyes but try to keep up with his moves. I, in fact, still know all the lyrics to this damn song but he doesn't need to know that. His moves aren't bad to be honest. He was always a good dancer.

You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want it bad
Your bad romance

He sings every sentence to me, still in his performing persona, and I try to laugh it off but deep down it is starting to feel... I don't have a word for this. I'm suddenly warm inside and I stop myself from thinking further. This is just my memory acting up and the few beers we had. Memories and alcohol just don't sit well with each other.

Vic starts jumping around singing the chorus loudly and he looks like he's having a blast, so I can't help it and finally give in. I start singing along and he's smiling so big while we jump up and down, shaking our arms and heads in the most stupid way and making weird motions with our legs.

My head keeps going to this is how it should've been this whole time. Why couldn't we have this?

When the song ends we're both messes and just can't stop laughing. I look at him out of breath and he has this look on his face that makes me believe he might've been thinking the same thing as me. But I drop it the second it forms in my brain.

The next song that plays is I'm yours.

"Well that's anti-climactic," I chuckle still catching my breath while the soft guitar sound fills the room.

"Don't even, you loved this song." Vic says. That's actually true, I loved this song back in the day. I might still do.

I start singing to it without giving it a second thought and the smile Vic gives me when he hears me could outshine any star in the sky.

I fell right through the cracks
And now I'm trying to get back

I can't help it and I keep going. I haven't sung like this in such a long time, really enjoying it and feeling carefree. It's been years since I even learned a song this well. I remember Vic used to play it all the time in his guitar and I listened to the record so many times that I eventually knew the lyrics to those songs by heart.

Vic joins my singing for a bit, then takes my hand and spins me around. I let out a scream and laugh so loudly I almost fall to the floor. He laughs along and I start singing again to the song. I move my hands as I sing every word and sway to the beat.

I can feel myself smiling through every word. I wish he had his guitar right now so he could be playing it instead of just looking at me like that. It's not making me uncomfortable, but I hate the way it makes me feel. It's like my body has a memory of its own and it's currently dying of nostalgia.

In a sudden uplifted mood I take Vic's hand and we start dancing together, spinning and swaying and singing and just not caring about anything and it's, it's nice. For two people who haven't seen each other in fifteen years.

But I won't hesitate no more
No more it cannot wait, I'm yours

When the song ends I realize I've come way closer to Vic than I was before. He has his hands around my waist and I mine found their way to his shoulders. When did this happen? I don't recognize the next song that plays, which is odd since we mostly had the same taste in music back then, but it's not what I'm paying attention to right now.

We're so close now that I can see Vic's eyebrow still has the scar from when he took that hit playing basketball in junior year. It's a bit faded now, and you wouldn't notice it if you didn't know the story. But it's there. Faintly. That slightly lighter line crossing his brow. He had to get stitches, the cut was that bad. He complained about it endlessly when it happened.

"You see, you can sing," Vic says slowly, interrupting my thoughts. Still so close. Still making me feel insane.

I chuckle lightly and look away, "barely."

I can feel him still looking at me and after a while he says, "I really missed your voice."

My eyes dart back to his and they bore into mine. I don't know why my heart is beating this fast again. I don't know why I don't turn around and walk away from this parallel universe I stepped into this morning. I don't know why I don't take away my arms from around him. I don't know why he doesn't as well. I don't know anything.

I don't know anything except that I really want him to kiss me. 

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(A/n): yikes. Next chapter coming sooner than you'd expect!