stuck :: hemmings

fourteen.

The duck pond was a flurry of activity and my eyes searched the beautiful landscape for a familiar tall boy with striking features. I'd called the number that Luke had scribbled on a napkin the previous night and asked him to meet me here. The leaves were still green but were beginning to yellow and drift in the light breeze. I sat on a stone table near the edge of the pond with my feet planted firmly on the bench below. The news I'd received in my previous class was a relief, as well as a disappointment. I fiddled with my fingers and wondered how I was to move forward with Leah's plan.

The sight of he who occupied my mind snapped me out of the worrying thoughts. He wore a buttoned-up black and red flannel with the sleeves cuffed at the elbows. His signature white high tops scuffed with dirt were tucked under dark jeans. A cup from the campus coffee shop was held in his right hand with threaded bracelets on his wrist. As he approached, the afternoon sunlight dappled his face and reflected his blue eyes, clear like the sky. Luke took a seat next to me on the table, turning to give a half-grin.

"So, we here to start the research project?" He spoke first, placing his drink next to him. "I'm sure you'll find me to be quite an interesting specimen."

"About that..." I took a sharp intake of breath. "My professor found out she has a bad knee, so she's going to be in and out of hospitals for the next year. She doesn't think she'll have enough time to grade such a heavy project, especially since our TA was suspended last week for possession of drugs on campus. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? No need to feel sorry for not subjecting me to psychoanalysis, I'll live." Luke laughed. I knew I had a habit of apologizing for everything, not quite able to grasp the advice of 'only apologize when absolutely necessary'.

"I don't know, I just assumed you were excited to finally be diagnosed with something. Maybe narcissism?"

"You don't even know me," Luke responded without malice. My eyes shifted past him, focusing on a group of fraternity boys that were laughing at their unfortunate friend being chased by an angry goose.

I finally turned back to face Luke with a pointed look and fake professionalism. "On the contrary, we have met up an adequate amount for me to acquire a reasonable assessment."

"Give me your hand." He said quickly, outstretching his own.

"Excuse me?" I asked with a laugh.

"Your hand, you know, the part of your body attached to your wrist and sprouts five fingers? Give it to me." Luke answered with a mock sense of urgency, motioning me to hurry up.

"Oh my god, you're impossible," I said, outstretching it anyway. He removed a pen from his pocket and quickly scribbled something down on my palm. It tickled and I had to keep from flinching, not wanting his touch to go away.

"That's my address. Michael and I are hanging out this evening around seven and I would love for you to join so you can diagnose me with something other than a cocky asshole with relationship issues."

"Although I'm not sure that would suffice as an official report, I guess I could stop by." I licked my chapped lips and stopped my brain from getting its hopes up about an event that would probably end in mild disappointment. The few times I had been at parties or hangouts with Michael in attendance, I rarely got the chance to talk to him. This was mainly the result of Ashton being absolute guy repellent, but I wouldn't lie and say it couldn't also be attributed to my lack of interest in initiating small talk.

"Besides, it'll give you a chance to see my VHS player." Luke said as he hopped off the table and picked up his coffee cup with pen still in hand.

"Do you use that line on all the girls?" It felt like flirting. It felt wrong. But maybe that was what gave me such a rush of adrenaline. That, and the fact I could have sworn he was flirting back. Or maybe not. Maybe this was just Luke. Maybe that's what was behind his magnetism; the fact he made everyone he talked to feel like they had his complete attention. It didn't matter what the fact was, because at that moment, with the soft sound of quacking and the sunlight hitting our faces, it felt like I was the only one who mattered.