Rejects // Punk Luke Hemmings

>Chapter Six<

The next day at school, I felt like a whole different person. Before, my hair was mousy brown with a pinkish color in it. But now, my hair was bold and bright, and it made people notice me. Whether the attention was good or bad, I wasn't sure. But it definitely got people looking.

At least once during each class, I got a compliment on it, and in several classes multiple people complimented it. I thanked them, trying to seem more confident.

Then came lunch. I was sitting with Michael, talking about our hair colors and how awful the school's food was when there was a voice behind me.

"That hair is quite something." It was a voice I'd never heard, belonging to a girl. It was high and slightly nasal.

"Yeah. What happened? Did your artwork throw up on your head?" came a second voice, a bit deeper and more gravelly than the first, with a thicker accent.

"Just ignore them, Kara. They're just bitches," Michael shook his head.

"Aww. Isn't that cute? Lava Boy is trying to make her feel better," whined the first voice. It was followed by a chorus of fake laughter and snickers.

"They're so perfect for each other!" came a third voice. It was soft and sweet, but venomous. "The Loser and the Drugee!" By now most of the cafeteria was quiet, listening intently. I just tried to keep my attention on my drawing, but my pencil shook slightly in my hand and I felt the prickle of tears behind my eyes.

"They can be outcasts together. How perfect." The second girl giggled. "They can have messed up babies together and everything!"

"Don't let them get to you Kar," Michael warned, glaring over at the girls.

"Oh, come on! At least make this fun for us!" the first girl whined after a moment. There was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor, and I heard the sound of quick footsteps coming closer. But they stopped a ways back, at where I judged the girls were sitting.

"Kelsey, would you just shut up for once in your life?" came a familiar voice. "Just leave her alone."

"And what are you gonna do about it, Lukey?" asked the one I guessed was Kelsey.

"You really want to see?" he asked just loud enough for me to hear.

"But she doesn't belong here. She's a freak who doesn't talk to anyone and who probably has scars and cuts all over her. So what if we just want to help her along in the process of killing herself?" Kelsey said sweetly, with shallowly veiled malice. "It's going to happen sooner or later. Why prolong the inevitable?"

At this, I snapped. Snatching up my things, I ran out into the hall, tears filling my eyes as I hurried to the bathroom. I couldn't handle her last comment.

I had gone through a time in my life where I just wanted to be gone, where I didn't see any point in living, even in art. So I'd started self-harming, and I had scars on my sides to prove it. I hadn't wanted to do it in a place that could be seen at school, so I had scars crisscrossed over the skin of my hips and upper thighs.

That topic in particular hit me hard, and I couldn't bear Kelsey's taunting anymore once she got to that point. So now I leaned on the inside of a bathroom stall, tears streaming down my cheeks, feeling the pain from each and every one of my scars at once, but this time it was worse.

I couldn't tell anyone, even my friends back home, about what I had done in the past. My mom didn't know about it either. If she had known, she would have sent me to therapy, or worse, she might have institutionalized me had she known how bad it had gotten.

Now, after almost four years of being clean from that horrible decision, my fingers itched for a blade. I didn't have one, obviously, but it terrified me how easily this urge resurfaced even after all this time.

I stayed in the bathroom for the next few minutes until I heard a voice calling out in the hallway. It was Luke, and he was trying to find me. I decided to try to stop crying, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to anyone at the moment.

I unlocked the stall door and walked out, wiping off the makeup that ran from my tears. I redid my mascara quickly, not attempting at eyeliner. By that point, Luke was at the entrance to the bathroom, calling in to try to find me.

I hesitated, debating whether or not I should respond. Just before he was about to leave, I responded. "I'm here Luke. Stop yelling." I stepped out into the hallway.

"I'm so sorry!" he spun around and hugged me tightly. I gasped, inhaling the scent of him as I tensed in his grasp. He smelled like cologne, but not the cheap generic stuff normal high school guys wear. He smelled rich and almost sweet, with a certain edge.

He felt me tense, and immediately let go, stepping back. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

I nodded, looking down. "I'm fine. It's not like I haven't heard that stuff before," I shrugged.

"Why do you say that?" Luke asked, his brow furrowing.

"Really? Why do I say that?" I looked up at him. "Because people assume that, because I'm always alone, I'm automatically emo!" I said bluntly. "People, if I'm not mistaken, like you. So why would a popular guy like you care if I'm alright?" I said, not intending to sound so cold.

He flinched the slightest bit as if my words actually hurt him. "Why would you say that?" he asked, a bit angrily. "Just because I'm friends with some of the more popular kids, that doesn't mean I think like them. I've been through hell and back, so please. Don't judge me by my friends. You don't even know me," he reminded me sharply.

"Sorry. It's just, I've had horrible experiences in the past, so I'm very judgmental of people." I felt a bit hypocritical for saying such a thing about him. For judging him before I knew his story like everyone seemed to do to me.

"It's fine. Just don't mix me up with them," he sighed, closing his eyes and putting a hand in his back pocket.

"I'm alright now. So if you want to go back to lunch, you can." I knew he probably wouldn't, but I still tried.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he said, concerned again.

"Yeah. I'm positive. Thanks."

"Okay. Then I guess I'll see you around?" Luke smiled a half smile that made my heart stop, then resume with so much force it practically exploded.

"Yeah. Most likely." I smiled back, though it was forced.

"Cool. See ya whenever Kara." He walked back to the cafeteria, and as I started to head to my locker, I noticed a small piece of folded-up paper where he'd been standing.

I picked it up, then unfolded it, and saw it contained Luke's phone number. I tucked it in my pocket, then headed for my locker.

[Edited]