Resistance • l.h.

Six

After that morning, Luke didn't even acknowledge my presence. He rarely came out of his room, only to feed himself. And sometimes, he didn't eat at all. It's like we lived in this huge house all by ourselves. The loneliness was crushing.

Which means there was even more time for me to be alone with the haunting thoughts of my stepfather.

I've never been in a relationship, despite almost being an adult. It doesn't mean that I don't know about porn or how to touch myself-I wasn't a prude. I just chose not to. The urges, of doing something sexual, though, has gotten so strong, it scared me at times. My hormones were completely out of whack. I resorted to working out in the gym on the third floor and sleeping most of the day away, since spring break was dragging on.

This continued for what seemed like an eternity until one morning, I woke up to the delicious smell of omelets.

That's strange, I thought, Jocelyn hasn't cooked in months, and Luke doesn't even feed himself. Most of the time, I have to drag him out of bed.

When I reach the bottom of the steps, I'm welcomed by a half-naked Luke, sweatpants hanging on his hips for dear life. Oh God.

He turns around when he heard my footsteps, and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. I smiled back involuntarily; his happiness was just too contagious.

"Im glad to see your happy," I grinned, genuinely happy because he is for the first time in forever. "Did you and Joc-I mean-Mom work things out?"

There was a part of me, that wanted him to say no, and it made me feel sick, but I pushed that part away.

His mood dropped for a second. "No," he said sadly. It didn't stay that way for long. "I'm happy for you!"

I gave him a confused look. "What are you talking about?"

Luke motioned toward the counter. "Check your mail."

I groaned as I walked over to the area he was referring to. "You didn't open my mail, did you?"

He covered his already open mouth with a hand, pretending to be offended. "Heavens no. Who do you think I am?" He exclaimed. "Your mom?"

I let out a stifled chuckle and read the label of the letters. Juilliard Performing Arts. Princeton University. Stanford University.

I let out an audible gasp, these were my acceptance letters. I stared at them, afraid to know the answer. Two out of three were freaking Ivy League colleges. I had only applied because my teachers and parents thought I had the capability of getting in.

I heard the stove click off so I know Luke had finished cooking, and was now looking at me. "Angel, what's wrong? Open them."

I was so nervous I didn't even register the fact the he called me "angel" again.

Ripping into the letters quickly, I skimmed over the first line of each. Accepted. Accepted. Accepted. I felt myself tear up. I got into every college I applied to? Holy shit!

"Oh my G-god," I stuttered, completely overwhelmed.

"Angel?" Luke asked again, seriously concerned now.

I smiled through my tears. "I got into every single one I wanted to go to."

His smile grew even wider than mine. "I'm so proud of you. I knew you would."

Under other circumstances, there was no way in hell I'd hug Luke. But he was the only one there for me, and has been the only one for a long while.

I ran into his arms, feeling his warmth surrounding me. When he lifted me up into the air and spun me around, a combination of giggles and refusals left my mouth.

"Put me down!" I cried and I heard him laugh, for the first time in months. It was beautiful, like the low chiming of bells. Eventually, he slid me down carefully, like he was afraid I would vanish into nothing.

We stood there hugging each other, too long for it to be appropriate. When I remembered that he was shirtless, I withdrew slowly, feeling the blush starting to creep onto my burning cheeks. The last thing I wanted to do was start feeling him up when he was just trying to be happy for me.

This one was a little longer :) love you guys