start a fight [muke af]

xxxi

xxxi

Luke parked in his grandmother's driveway, turning off the ignition and taking a deep sigh. He was a Mama's Boy, so when Ms. Hemmings forced Luke to brunch with Grandma Hemmings, he listened.

He looked at the palm trees in her backyard, swaying calmly in the breeze. He wished he felt as calm as a palm tree.

He got out of his car, locking the doors.

He went in through the garage, already hearing her rat-dogs barking their heads off. They are dogs that barely reached Luke's knees, but they sounded as if they were large coon hounds, about to completely end whomever dares cross their territory.

Luke wasn't much of a dog person.

He kicked off his shoes, not caring that he was ruining the heel of his Converse high tops. He opened the laundry room door, automatically being greeted by his grandmother's voice and three dogs at his heels.

He leant down, petting the dog's grey, curly fur. He had no idea which one was which, they all smelled gross and kept trying to bite his toes.

He kissed his grandmother on the cheek, forcing a laugh when she commented on his ever-growing height. Luke was convinced she's been saying how tall he has gotten since he was six months old.

He didn't think he was that tall.

"You're my only grandchild left here in Las Vegas," she commented with a sigh. She lead Luke from the living room and into the dining room where dishes of meals were waiting for him.

It was Luke's one day off, he wanted to sleep until one in the afternoon, eat some bad food, then go back to bed. Instead, his mother swatted at him with a dishtowel at 10, physically forcing him from bed.

"I've always been your favorite, so that's okay," he gloated. He sat down, scooting in his chair close enough to the table so that the dogs wouldn't jump into his lap.

He couldn't get the smell they emitted off of him for weeks.

The Hemmings family had almost every holiday at Grandma's house, from birthdays to Thanksgiving to Christmas to The New Year. Luke can't remember not going to his grandmother's house.

Even when he was a rebellious thirteen-year-old, he'd still put on the ugly matching sweaters his mother picked out for her three boys and suffer through a night with the relatives.

"How's work? I can't believe my baby is a working man already." She slowly sat down, Luke watching to make sure she didn't fall over.

She was 94, a frail—but independent—women.

"It's fine, it's work," he responded. He took pita bread from the center plate, smearing hummus inside of it. He knew his grandmother wouldn't let him leave the house without leftovers so he had to find a way to enjoy the meal.

"Any cuties there?"

Luke blushed, not sure what to say. He didn't want to look like a complete loser and say he's ending another month without any love interest, but he doesn't want to lie to his small grandmother either. "Uh, kind of."

"Sweetie, you have to tell me more. I promise I won't tell your mother."

Luke learned that when Grandma Hemmings 'promised' not to tell anyone, it meant she'd 'accidentally' let it slip her tongue the next house. It was worth a shot, though. "His name is Michael," he started, outing himself, "He's a coworker."

Luke did some math, and figured if Michael and Luke were actually going to pursue something, Mike wouldn't need to meet GMa Hemmings for a solid year. Either Gma Hemmings is going to be dead or senile.

He could lie to her, he could tell her Michael was a coworker, not an inmate. He knew his grandmother would never, ever, ever approve of Michael if she knew he was in prison. She could learn to accept his tattoos and piercings, but never the whole arrested-for-murder thing.

"Is he cute?"

"Of course." Luke smiled, he could physically feel himself smiling. Maybe lying to his grandma wasn't a bad thing. How could something terrible make Luke feel so good? The thought of having Michael made him feel something he has never felt before.

She chewed on some chopped pepper, her mind raking to find personal questions to ask. "How old is he? Are you two actually dating or what?"

"He's a little older. We aren't exclusive, yet."

She shook her head, "I'll never understand dating these days." She scooted back in her seat, letting a dog jump into her lap. "Your mother doesn't know?"

"No, no. You know her, she's so protective." Or, she knew Michael was an inmate and Michael broke Luke's nose. "Michael is cool, maybe I'll bring him over for my birthday or something."

Luke knew he was not going to bring him over any time soon. Luke's birthday was only five days after Michael's release from prison, there's no way Luke is bringing him anywhere near any of his family.

Even if all of Luke's dreams came true — they fell in love the second Michael was released — it still wouldn't happen. His family knows Michael, they would never be okay with that.

Suddenly, Luke understood why lying was bad.