wasting time » lh ; mc

twenty five

:: 25 ::

Luke walked through the school building with his gaze never lifting from his feet and a million curse words running through his mind but never making their way towards vocalization.

He felt dirty. So fucking dirty—he kissed two different people in one day. The only thing Luke had been happy about is that today wasn't the day he had class with Michael, and he had successfully avoided being confronted by him.

Luke should've known his luck would run out, with the way his life has been going lately. It wasn't until just before their last period of the day that he suddenly wished he was a turtle that could retreat into their own shell when threatened. Michael's presence would definitely be threatening.

Michael ran up to Luke as soon as he spotted him in the middle of the crowded school hallway. "Luke, I gotta talk to you—"

Luke turned towards him and shook his head, responding softly, "Not right now, Michael."

Desperately, the hockey player lowered his tone and begged, "Please, I—I just want to say something."

"I said—"

"I know what you said," Michael interrupted, desperation filling the eyes that Luke still hadn't looked into, "but I'm not going to listen."

"Of course you're not," Luke grumbled. Either Michael didn't hear him or he just wasn't going to acknowledge it, because the boy dragged them between empty and secluded locker banks.

"Now, are we going to have a conversation or not?" Nothing. "Luke..." Again. "Can you at least look at me, please?" Michael got agitated and turned Luke's head by the chin with his index finger and thumb. "Thanks," the older boy said, sarcastically.

"What do you want?" Luke gave in, albeit with unwillingness and hostility in his tone.

"For you to talk to me," Michael said with a raised eyebrow.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't, okay, Mike? Leave me alone," Luke demanded. He went to pull away from Michael's grip but as they both heard dress shoes against tile flooring, Michael pulled him back until the sound was distant, and then gone.

"No," he whispered angrily. "Why won't you just talk to me? Because I fucking kissed you?—is that it, huh? Grow the fuck up, Luke." And Luke could not believe how, even for a second, Michael was never able to get over himself.

And as Michael was forcing them to look at each other, as he was yelling, Luke's mind raced until finally he squeezed his eyes shut and yelled back, "I kissed Penny that day, too, okay? So it hasn't exactly been good on my psyche the past 24 hours, you dickhead."

Michael froze, "You—you what?"

"Don't act like I wasn't going to do it eventually! We're talking, Michael, and people who talk eventually kiss and date and all that good shit, alright?"

"But—"

"You kissed me," Luke clarified before Michael could bring up the topic.

"You said you were doing chores yesterday," Michael said quietly, defeated. Luke was confused as to why that's what he brought up instead—surely it was a joke, he had to be more focused on Penelope.

"I didn't want you to know that I was with her before I hung out with you," Luke admitted openly, exhausted by this argument. "Why aren't you saying anything? I just told you I kissed—"

"I don't give a shit about who you kiss, okay, Luke? Tone down your ego a bit," Michael scoffed. "What matters is you fucking lied to me."

"It wasn't that big of a lie," Luke defended. And, okay, fuck you, Luke.