wasting time » lh ; mc

eleven

:: 11 ::

For the first time in his life, Michael was nervous before a game. He's been trying for the last half-hour to calm himself down, but knowing that the one person who could open up countless doors for him is standing in the crowd tonight is, unfortunately, throwing off his focus.

He's been off track a lot lately, it seems. Ever since Luke arrived in his life, that's all it ever is. But, there's a game to win and a hockey player to impress, so if Michael isn't in his best mind tonight, he doesn't know what he'd do.

"Hey, Bald Eagle," Luke approaches, just as Michael is preparing for warm-ups.

"Hi, Luke," he replied. Lacing up his skates, he doesn't make eye contact.

Incredulously, Luke says with a teasing tone, "Not comparing me to a food today? Something is wrong here."

"You hate it, anyway," Michael shrugged. He lifted himself back up, pulling his helmet over his head, and nodding to Luke. "I'm going to warm up."

A puzzled Luke mirrored the gesture with a watchful eye as the boy left in a strangely quiet mood. Usually, he was playing along in the banter that he and Luke had on a near day-to-day basis now.

Instead of thinking about it more, Luke shook his head and headed back over to the seats he and his father chose, in the corner of the first row of seats. It helped with not getting noticed and disturbed, since Andrew wanted all of his attention on the game.

When he arrived, he saw his father waiting for him. "What position does Michael play?" he asked as Luke sat down.

"Center," Luke informed, sitting down next to him. "He said he's been the same position since he started playing, but does pretty well in the others."

"Talented kid," Andrew nods.

Luke smiles and says, "Yeah, he is, actually," before hearing a voice next to him and turning to it.

A girl stood above him, looking shyly at the seat beside him. "Uh, Luke...is it alright if I sit here? Is anyone already--"

"You're fine," Luke chuckled. He motioned to the seat and smiled. "It's all yours."

A look of gratitude was sent his way before she sat down with a quiet thank you. "You've been to other games, right?"

"Yeah, the last two, for Michael Clifford."

"I just, like, noticed you come to games -- is that weird? I hope it's not weird." And, if this isn't the most adorable human Luke has ever interacted with then he must not know what adorable is.

"No, it's not," he reassured. "What's your name? I'm sorry, I don't know it."

"Penelope," the girl tucked a piece of ginger hair behind her ear and glanced at the rink nervously.

"How do you know mine?"

"Oh, my brother is on the hockey team and always talks about Hemmings, Hemmings, Hemmings," she laughed. "He found out you went here and freaked out."

Luke frowned, "Oh." He was beginning to get so comfortable with the fact that he had someone around that wasn't only aware of him because of his last name, that he forgot that most people really only paid attention to that part of him. And, now, it's affected him more than it used to.