Rejects // Punk Luke Hemmings

>Chapter Ten<

School. I was dreading it, but I knew I had to go to prove to everyone that I wasn't dead. Especially Kelsey.

I picked out my cutest outfit, a black and white striped top, along with a high-waisted black skirt, a black beanie and scarf, black knee-high socks, and black ankle-high heels. (See picture above) I walked into school with faked confidence, and I almost laughed when Kelsey saw me and did a double take.

"Hiya," I smiled as I stopped next to Michael's locker. He moved the door and saw it was me, then wrapped me in a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" he murmured in my ear. Stepping back, he looked me over, almost like he was searching me for injuries.

"Mikey, I'm fine!" I laughed and shrugged.

"You sure? Because this doesn't seem anything like the Kara I know." He smiled.

"Yes I'm sure it's me Michael." I rolled my eyes and closed his locker for him. He smiled and we walked toward science, my first class of the day. "So, how has school been?" I asked him casually.

"Pretty good. I missed you though," he shrugged. "Do you want to talk about what happened at all, or...." his voice trailed off.

"It's not like I did it on purpose, if that's what you mean," I looked at the ground. People stared at us as we walked past, the girl with blue hair and the boy with red hair. That's all we were to them, the outcasts who sat alone at lunch.

The girl who may, or may not have attempted to commit suicide.

"This is my class. See you at lunch, yeah?" I smiled falsely at Michael as I arrived at my science class.

"Yeah. Can't wait to eat!" he laughed and started walking again. "Bye Kar!"

"Bye Mikey!" I walked into the class and attracted quite a few stares and poorly concealed whispers. But I wasn't going to let a panic attack like that happen again.

I dragged myself through science, math, and Latin, then it was lunch time. I'd forgotten to pack a lunch today, so I had to buy.

Grabbing a place in line, I waited as people shuffled slowly forward, waiting to get their food.

"Get the French toast. That's the best thing they've got here," came Luke's voice from behind me. I turned to see him smiling down at me, even with my heels on.

"Why do you always do that?" I asked and pursed my lips delicately.

"Do what?" The confusion was plain on his face.

"Whenever you talk to me, you always come up from behind and say whatever you want to say! No, 'Hi Kara. How ya doin?' It's kind of weird," I laughed.

"Oh, that. Well, I don't know. I guess I just like seeing you jump with surprise." I glared at him as he smirked. "How have you been since yesterday?" he asked and moved forward along with me.

"I've been fine," I shrugged. "People keep judging me though. I can just tell. But I don't give a damn anymore."

"Good!" Luke grinned. "Don't listen to them. The only opinion that matters is your own."

"Yeah," I nodded and put my tray on the counter as we arrived at the food options. I grabbed a parfait and French toast, and Luke got French toast, a sandwich, and a Pepsi. "See you around then?" I said as we walked away from the line.

"I was actually wondering if you'd like to sit at my table today." Luke said curiously.

"Oh," I nodded slowly and glance over to where he usually sat. The table was filled with boys. "Um, I'd love to, except its sort of crowded and I had some art to do today."

"Alright. I understand that," he nodded and smiled. "Then I guess I'll see you tomorrow, if not later today."

"Yeah, see you later Luke." I smiled warmly and headed toward where Michael already sat, munching on a piece of celery.

"What was that all about?" he asked and pointed in the direction of Luke's table.

"Oh, he was just asking if I was alright. Being courteous, I guess." I sat down across from him. It was at least part of the truth.

"Ah," he nodded, looking slightly skeptical. "Do you have to do work today?"

"Yeah. I have to work on that portrait for art," I replied and grabbed one of the sketchbooks from my bag. I thought it was the one with the portrait of my mom, so I flipped through page by page looking for the piece.

I sensed Michael was watching, looking at my art as I leafed through each page. Then, in the middle of a clump of empty pages, the last thing I wanted to show anyone appeared.

The drawing from my nightmare. The one with Luke.

"Hey, woah, woah, woah," Mikey put a hand on the paper to stop me from turning the page. "What is this?" He looked at it carefully. "That's not... Luke, is it?" He looked up at me with a slightly hurt look on his face.

"It's nothing Michael. Don't worry about it," I broke eye contact, unable to take his look. "It was just from a dream."

"This looks more like it was from a nightmare..." he looked back at the drawing. I still got nauseous when I looked at it an remembered his iron grip around my wrist.

"I said not to worry about it!" I slammed the book shut. The clamour of the cafeteria dimmed slightly as I almost yelled at him. "I'm sorry," I muttered. "I just don't want to talk about it here, okay?"

"Y-yeah," he shrugged and sat back down. "Sorry if I upset you."

"Don't be. It's just a bit of a touchy topic for me."

The rest of the day flew by as I waited to go home. I spent all night cooped up in my room doing homework and contemplating the drawing in silence.

[Edited]