five

90 7 1
                                    

I hiked accross the lawn, over to Luke's house, and read a note on the doorbell.
Lauren -
Just come inside.
I did so, and pushed the door open, shutting it behind me.
"Luke?" I called.
"Upstairs."
I jogged the steps, and gently pushed Luke's door open. It was the second time I had ever been in there.
"Jesus, Luke, you scared the crap out of me last night," I said.
"I scared the crap out of everyone." He answered, from somewhere in a pile of blankets.
There were no shortage of tissues and water bottles on his nightstand. Above his headboard, a whole oxygen system was hooked up which wasn't there before.
He unrolled himself and sat up, making room for me. He pulled this plastic breathing tube off, and threw it somewhere behind him.
"How do you feel?"
"Like complete shit. That's what I feel like, because I'm tired of sugar coating this for people."
"What?" I asked, completely confused.
"Can you stay over?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Sure, but-"
I stopped, as I was pulled into some hug that came out of nowhere.
"Lauren," he sniffled. " I really need you to just sit there and let me not be okay for ten minutes,"
"Okay," I whispered.
I wondered what he was talking about as his fingers clung to my sleeves.
"I have to go back for surgery in like four months," he explained.
"I've heard."
"I'm nervous already."
"You have no reason to be," I answered. "This isn't the first time. You've done this before."
"Still,"
"I know."
"I kinda wanna forget about this all for a while,"
"We will do that, I promise. You should get some rest, Luke,"
He rolled on top of the pile of covers on the bed and let out some ridiculous groan.
-
The next morning, Liz bought last minute plane tickets. They were round trip, a few hours away.
I didn't know why she did it. Plane tickets aren't just something you can pick up in a store.
She told me she bought them so Luke could enjoy the flight. They didn't go anywhere.
"They weren't expensive, just enough for a window seat in economy. I want you to take my ticket and go, I've got work that day."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Luke probably would enjoy your company more than mine."
"Thank you."
There was no packing involved, the plane made a u-turn and came back in another hour. We would be gone for several hours, and make it back in time for dinner. Why she did this? I'm not sure, but I went along with it.
After dinner, I told my mom about the plane tickets.
"You do know why she is doing this, right?"
I flattened out the ticket on the counter top and slid myself onto it.
"Why?"
My mom out a plate in the sink and shut it off. She stood infront of me.
"Luke isn't going to get better, Lauren."
"What do you mean?"
"Luke is, well, sick. He wasn't expected to live past sixteen. I think she is doing this to-"
"I don't want to hear it." I said. "He is going to make it."
"I hope so." She said. "I really hope so."
I left the ticket on the counter, and stomped upstairs to the bathroom. The water was turned all the way on high, and I kind of sat on the floor of the shower untill I felt better. Nothing was worse than talking about Luke dying.
Then again, I could make whatever time he had left the absolute best it could be, but I hate cheesy stories.

clouds ☁  lrhWhere stories live. Discover now