Disclaimer: This is fanfiction based off of the Malcolm in the Middle TV series (created by Linwood Boomer; produced by Satin City Productions, Regency Television, and FOX), and in no way am I associated with or own the series' plot-line, characters, or actors. In no way do I receive royalties, nor do I intend to profit from this fiction. The plot contained below is of my creation and in no way reflects their intents or points of view. And...um...whatever else I'm supposed to say. ^_^

NOTE: As of the third chapter, I've changed the title of this fic from "Reese and the Taboo" to the current title. Just an FYI, in case you weren't sure if you'd read this before because of the name change. I didn't like the previous title but couldn't think of anything better. I do like the current title, though it's a bit vague in its relevance.

'I've been worying about nothing!' he wrote. 'I was afr woried to sleep and a complete hole over something that everyone does! ' He thought a moment…he didn't want to actually write anything out – just acknowledge that it was over. 'Anyway, its ovar'. There. 'Nothing to wory about.'

And Reese felt better. He considered writing about Jess but before it could remind him of Malcolm he changed his mind – she was a bit of a slut anyway. He started to write about a warm pudding that he wanted to try making.

Reese'd burned the first few journals. The fire was beautiful, both times. Every time, really. The second time though, the fire had somehow escaped his control, jumping to a side-hedge and through the rotting walls of the house, earning him a month of grounding. He still wasn't allowed to bake, fry, or flambé.

The punishment wasn't supposed to be crime-relevant - it wasn't because it'd been a fire or anything; a few years ago he'd learned that he was a natural cook and enjoyed it immensely, and so of course his parents found that grounding him from cooking was an effective punishment*.

Anyway, he'd been in a rush – his brothers had almost gotten a hold of it. He was surprised at his relative genius in covering the suspicion. Oh, sure, his brothers were probably still curious about what he'd been writing, but Reese had torn through the house, picking up text books, video games, dinosaurs, and G.I. Joes – yes, if he'd have to get rid of the journal, he'd get rid of some of their favorite things too! He had to wrestle them to the ground to let the garbage-can fire burn properly, but it all proved a perfect distraction. And that was one of the two rules for when you're in trouble – you need a diversion (and the little guy gets screwed**).

When the bush caught fire, Dewey started cheering. And Malcolm gloated a few hours later when he'd discovered that Reese's Grand Theft Auto III and Barbarians video-games were among the casualties.

Compared to the second, the first burning was a simple affair – burned in the barbecue with Reese the only witness. In his self-hatred and paranoia, he had to get rid of the evidence.

He remembered when he was crying in the bathroom over some cheerleader. And with Malcolm's help he'd actually gotten to kiss her***. He'd had a few other girls too, and they were nice. And he'd been hurt badly every single time of course – apparently it was unavoidable. First he'd get worked up over his crushes, and then he'd make a fool out of himself or something. Dad says it was hereditary. At least he got to watch it happen to his brothers.

Now THIS crush was just as good, just as bad, and at least as painful…but he couldn't do anything about it! He couldn't act on his feelings and he couldn't even tell anyone. He'd never felt so impotent (though he didn't know the word). He even had to be more careful about where he cried! And meanwhile, he kept waiting for that moment he'd make a fool out of himself. Again.

This journal – the third one of his now – was the only outlet he'd allow anymore. And now he'd learned to be careful with the proper nouns and pronouns. He'd learned.

Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it'd all end badly, that he'd be found out.

Author's Note:

FIRST: I don't have a beta. I'm not even sure why people get betas - if it's considered rude to not have one, if it's for people that recognize they aren't very good at editing their own work, or what. I've edited my own mistakes and I may get a beta soon, but in the meanwhile, I promise to be especially open to constructive critical reviews.

*SECOND: I've taken to noting the references I've made to MITM's episodes with asterisks.
Episode References: *Season 2, Episode 18; **Season 5, Episode 22; ***Season 1, Episode 12

Don't worry; my next chapters should get a bit longer. I measured the story as currently written to having about 21,400 words, without the very end. As I mention in the summary, I have almost all of this story written; I have just to edit it.