Gone Cold. -Luke Hemmings Love Story. AU-

Chapter 4

    "When did you start smoking?" I ask as I fold my hands on my lap and start to play with my thumb.
"Why?" He asks.
"You're really bad at that." I say.
"Really bad at what?" He asks, with a louder than usual voice.
"Answering questions." I say. "You answer them with another question."
"Maybe it's because I your questions are so stupid, that the only thing I can say is another question." He scoffs.
I raise an eyebrow. "I asked when you started smoking, not what the color of your first dog was. Have some patients." I sigh.
"About a year ago." He says.
"Was that before or after your-" He looks over at me with almost threatening eyes. "Sorry." I mumble.
He sighs. "After."
I nod. "Figured. Is there anything you want to know about me?" I offer. "I've been asking about you for about an hour now."
"Yeah, whats your name again?" He asks, almost in a joking manner, but seriously enough for me to not know if he was joking or not.
"Very funny." I say and roll my eyes. "It's Kit. Really not that hard to remember." I tell him.
"Kit?" He asks. "Like Kit Kat? Like the chocolate bar." He states.
I nod."Most people just call me Kit."
"And most people just call me Luke." He says. "As long as you call me Hemmings, I'm going to call you Kit Kat." His mean tone is slowly lessening.
"I thought we weren't friends?" I ask. "Those seem like pretty friendly nicknames for two people who want nothing to do with each other."
"You didn't give me much choice into being your acquaintance." He says.
"We don't have to be friends." I say. "We just don't have to be enemies. You don't need to be someones friend in order to have them around as a familiar face every now and then, you know."
"That's what I have the assholes that I sit with at lunch for." He says. "No offence, but I'd rather not hangout with you over grape juice and bible verses."
I burst out laughing. "Is that really what you think of me?" I ask. He nods. "I'm a satanist."
His jaw drops. "Are you serious?"
"Hell no." I say and laugh a little more. "But, I'm also not into the bible. What's the next excuse?"
"Even if I wanted to be friends with you, which I don't." He says, making sure to remind me of that. "It work out. I'm not a good person to be around. Especially not someone like you."
"Someone like me?" I ask.
He nods. "Look Kit Kat, you seem like a decent person. I mean that, I really do. That's why I'm telling you to stay away from me. It's for your own good."
"It's too bad that I never do what I'm told, isn't it?" I ask as I stand up.
"Wait, where are you going?" He asks me as I start to climb down the bleachers.
"If you want to know, follow me." I say as I start walking. Not looking back at him. With a small smirk, I keep walking. Straight out of the baseball field, past the abandoned looking field, past the basketball court and past every other overrated sports place. And I make my way back out to the parking lot. Which is so big that I couldn't see my car at first. When I do spot my car, I walk over to it and unlock the front doors. Then I turn around to see if this mysterious boy followed me.
When I look out to see if I can find him, I'm disappointed but not really surprised that he's nowhere in my sight. With a small frown, I get in my car. But, because I parked right in the sun, my car is like a sauna. I roll down my windows and let the air flow through for a couple of seconds. When my car is at a manageable temperature, I start driving down the parking lot, knowing that moving with make the air flow through even more, even though the sound of the wind makes me want to crash my car into a bridge.
Just as I was almost out of the parking lot, I hear "Wait!" Come from the boy I was hoping would follow me. I quickly slam on my breaks, causing me to go forward a little bit. Luke walks up to my car and pauses when he's standing by the window of the passengers seat. "So, I followed you." He says.
"Hop in." I say and gesture to the door.
"Why would I do that?" He asks. I shrug.
He stands there not saying anything for a few minutes. "Are you coming or not?" I ask with a sigh. "I don't have all day, you know."
He sighs and gets in my car. I can't help but feel satisfied that he's here with me. I start driving away in silence. He pulls a smoke out and lights it, before he takes a big puff out of it, he blows it out and holds the smoke between his fingers, hanging out it out the window a little as he flicks the ashes off the end. "Where are we?" He asks.
"My house." I say as I park my car.
"Nope." He says.
I get out of my car and look at him funny. "What do you mean?"
"I'm not going in there to meet your parents." He says. "Just take me back to the school. I was having a fine time before you showed up anyways."
"Does it look like my parents are home?" I ask, pointing around to the empty parking lot. "Now, get the hell over yourself and come in with me. I wanna play a game."
He rolls his eyes and gets out of my car, slowly following my inside my house. Closing the front door behind us, he stands there, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He follows me into the living room as I take a seat on the couch. Not saying a word he sits down, leaving a large space between us.
Before he gets a chance to speak, I do. "Secrets." I say. "One of mine for one of yours." I explain.
"That game sounds like hell." He says.
"Well, since you think that I'm little Ms. Perfect, it's a good chance for you to get a chance to actually get to know me. Then you can decide if I'm worth getting to know." I say, turning over to face him.
He sighs. "How do we play." He's a little annoyed again, but since the second I've met Luke he's seemed annoyed.
"One of us says a secret of there's, then the other follows up with another secret."I explain.
"As I said, no thanks. My secrets are secrets for a reason."
"Okay, then don't tell me the really important ones." I say. "Start off small."
"Okay, how do you know that I'm not just going to tell everyone every little thing you're going to tell me?" He asks.
"I guess I don't know that." I say with a shrug. "Just as well as I could tell everyone your secrets if I wanted to. Which I wont." I assure him. "What do you say?"
"Whatever. You start." He says/
"Okay." I say and lift up my shirt, revealing the tattoo that I have on my rib cage that says 'It doesn't run in the family'. "Almost nobody knows I have it."
"It doesn't run in the family?" He asks. I give him a nod. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"It's your turn." I say, ignoring his question. "I'll tell you that as my next one. I promise."
"Fine." He says and starts thinking. "I once put a cigarette butt out on my dad." He says after a few moments silence.
"Why would you do that?" I ask, in shock.
I see a small smirk appear on his face. "Your turn." He says in a mocking tone.
I roll my eyes. "Last year I overheard my mom and dad talking. They were saying things like 'she needs to find out eventually' and 'the longer we wait, the worse it's going to be'. So, I went out and asked them what the fuck they were talking about. With hesitation, they asked me to sit down, so I did. I went and sat at the table with them. They told me that my dad wasn't actually my dad, biologically. After being told my whole life that he was, and that I took after him so much. I didn't take it so well. I hated them for a good couple weeks, and in those couple weeks, I got the tattoo." I've never told anyone that before. I almost regret telling him. I just met him and now he knows my second biggest secret.
"Are you going to make me wait for you to tell be about your real dad?" He asks, almost sounding surprised.
I nod. "Your turn." I say smugly.
"It was about nine months ago." Luke says. "I hadn't been smoking for too long, a couple months maybe. It was my first time smoking in my house. I didn't think my dad was home, so I thought I was safe." He says and lets out a small laugh, that really just sounds like a friendly sigh. "But, I wasn't. My dad came barging into my room, and caught me with a lit cigarette between my fingers. He didn't react so well. He told me to get rid of it, I told him no, he tried chasing me around my room for it. It ended up with him wrapping one arm around me, while yelling at me and trying to get the smoke, so I put it out on his arm to get him to let go of me. It worked." He says.
"Jesus Christ." I say. "How much trouble did you get in?"
He shrugs. "Me and my dad don't have the best relationship." He explains. "It's sort of like I'm always in trouble, so it doesn't really matter."
"What made you start smoking in the first place?" I ask.
"Your turn." He says.
"Fair enough." I say with a sigh. "We don't know who my real dad is." I say. "My mom was seventeen when she had me, and nineteen when she got with the man that I call my dad. I asked her about my real dad, and all she could say was that she was going through a rough time when she got pregnant with me and that she was going down the wrong path. Basically, my mom was a hoe." I say, making a small joke out of it. Which catches Luke off guard. His eyes widen. "It was a joke." I say. "Teenagers go through shit and do the wrong things all the time. It's like in our nature." Luke just nods. "Your turn." I say.
"I started smoking because the people who I sit with at lunch were smoking one day. Until then, I hadn't considered it. It was maybe a month after my mom, and they said it helps when you're going through something. I tried it, hated it at first, but it stuck." He says.
"What about drinking?" I ask.
"What about it?" He asks. "Every teenager drinks. The fact that I happen to drink a lot doesn't have to reflect on anything."
I shrug. "I guess. What about using girls for sex?" I ask.
He knits his eyebrows together in confusion at me. "Is that what they told you?" He asks. "My old friends, I mean." I nod. "I don't do that." He says, defensively. "I have sex with girls that I'm not with, but before I do, I make sure that they're on the same page. I don't lead people on."
That much I do believe. He doesn't seem like someone that leads someone on. "Okay." I say. "But, why do you drink so much if it doesn't reflect on anything?"
"Your turn." He says. I roll my eyes. "Your rules."
"Fine." I say. "A little over a year ago, when I hated my parents for the couple of weeks, I was going to move out with the boy that I thought I was in love with. Turns out he does lead people on."
"How so?" He asks.
I smile at him. "Your turn."
"I drink because it makes me happy." He says
"That's fair enough." I say."Let me guess, my turn?" I ask. He nods. "Listen, Hemmings." I say, in a stern voice. "This is my single biggest secret, and if you tell anyone, I'll have your head. Plus, I better get a huge secret back from this one."
"We'll see." He says.
I roll my eyes. I don't worry too much about him tell anyone anything. He doesn't talk to anybody, why he's still even talking to me is beyond me. "Well, we we're together for maybe four months, which is a lot when you're seventeen. That was when he told me he loved me to get me to have sex with him. It worked. He ended getting me pregnant." I say as all of those memories start flooding back to me. I try to ignore the hurt in my heart as I say these next words. "I was almost five months pregnant when I fell down some stairs, moving things into his apartment. I lost the baby. Later the same day, he told me that things are done and that he was only with me for the baby." I say as a couple tears that I can't hold back come down my face.
"Stop crying." He says, in an almost demanding voice. "It's making me uncomfortable."
"Sorry." I say and look down, wiping my face off. When I get a hold of myself again, I look back up at him with a smile. "Your turn." I say.
"Fine, but this is the last one." He says. "It's getting way too deep for my liking." He informs me. I just nod. "I hate people who remind me of myself."
"Which you, Hemmings?" I ask.
He shrugs. "I hate people who are like how I am, because I always have. Not everything can change. But, I meant people who remind me of who I used to be. I envy them, which turns into hate."
He doesn't stay for much longer after that. He said that he should leave, without any explanation as to why. I offered him a drive, but he declined. He said that he's in walking distance. I insisted, but he just said no. He said that we're still not friends, but we're also not, not friends. Because he told me too much to just drop me. I agreed that I did too. I have never told anyone some of the stuff I told him, and at first I regretted it, but now I'm finding it harder to. The way he took the aspects of my life struck me interesting. He didn't react. He just took it. I wonder what he thinks of everything I told him. Or if he thinks anything about them at all.
After watching a couple of movies, I decide that I'm tired, and since there's school tomorrow, I should probably go to bed, so I'm not too exhausted. I head up the stairs with a sigh as I make my way to my room. I quickly get changed into my pajamas and go lay down on my bed, collapsing down. As I try to close my eyes to sleep, thoughts of Luke fills my head. Everything he told me, for one, but for two, the look on his face when he told me. It was expressionless as always, but with a hit of hurt, or anger every now and then. I'm surprised that he told me as much as he did, I wonder why he gave in to trusting me.