Bro Code : Luke Hemmings IN EDITING

Chapter Thirty- Four

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Luke's POV

"You're telling me, you told her this story, one that you haven't told a soul yet, and she walked away?" she looks at me like she doesn't believe what I've just said to her. I nod to confirm it once more. "How selfish! Did she even ask if you were okay!? How you felt about it!?" Ms. Havisham's voice rises and shakes just a little from being such an old age.

"I guess I almost expected it. It's a lot to take in, don't you think?" I ask, looking into her eyes. I feel almost embarrassed of the whole situation.

"Of course it's a lot to take in! For you, though! Not for her. So her boyfriend has a sketchy past, neither of you can change it, so why should she get to dwell on it when it's not affecting her at all? She shouldn't!" she says, her pale cheeks are tiniting with pink as her temper rises. I want to laugh, it's hard not to, but I know she's being serious, so I should take this just as seriously as she is. After all, this isn't a small deal, this is big. But in the end, I can't help the small smile that escapes from my lips. I watch as her head shakes from side to side, the orange hair still stuck into place as it was before.

She pulls her sweater tighter around her body and straightens in her seat. I don't say anything, I think she's said enough for the both of us. Her frail hands wrap around the warm glass of tea as she slowly brings it to her lips. The skin around her mouth is slightly wrinkled, but the pink lipstick is enough to distract your attention from them. I look around the lawn, taking in all the flowers again, incredibly surprised at how well she manages to take care of them.

"I'm sorry for being the typical crazy, old neighbor lady, but that urks me. When people don't realize what they have or do, compared to how hard someone else has had it. For your sake and my sanity, I hope she pulls her shit together real soon," she says. "And I'm not sorry for my language," her voice is serious, but as I look at her, her eyes are laughing with humor.

"It's okay, it's not like I haven't heard worse," I smile at her.

"Or spoken worse.." she smirks, reminding me of my outburst on my front lawn.

"That's true," I laugh.

"Well, I think it's time for me to go to bed. If you need to talk again, or if you want to do the DNA test, which I still recommend, come see me," she taps my shoulder with her index finger, "we'll figure it out."

"Thank you so much. I'm glad I came over, it really did help."

"You're welcome any time," she says, standing from her chair. I get on my feet and offer to carry the cups back into her kitchen, but she assures me that she's got them as long as I can open the door for her. I slide the door open and say good bye once more as she enters and sets the glasses in her sink.

I feel relieved as I walk across the lawn back to my house. Maybe I should've talked to her a long time ago, I would've if I had known she was so understanding. Entering through the back door, I notice all the lights are off, which means my parents are asleep or in bed for the night. I walk as quietly as I can up the stairs, not wanting to wake them. The last stair until the top creaks loudly, screaming into my silent mind, startling me. I hurry to my room, now feeling a bit freaked out; like a murder is chasing me up the wooden steps, which would only result in my death.

I flip on the light switch that is placed right beside the door, and I check my phone. I feel the little shred of hope I had slip from my grasp as I see that I have no new messages from Hope. I don't bother to text her, if she needs time, I'm going to give it to her--even if it's hard. I don't want to pressure her into it if she doesn't want to, but I also don't want to push her into a breakup. Fuck, we just started dating. My life is such a joke.