One Minute, And The Next || l.h [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5

"You're a dick, you know that?" I say to Luke once I get into his car.

"Last time I checked princess, I'm the one who's driving you home, and the one who helped you when you were practically passed out drunk on the floor." He responds before putting the key in the ignition of his overly expensive car.

"Well your mom was being nothing but nice to you, and you completely failed to acknowledge her." I say, crossing my arms. "Therefore, you're still a dick, I don't care about the shit you did for me. I never asked you to do any of it." I finish, looking out the window, not wanting to look over at him.

"Well I'm sure if I said that same thing to you regarding how you treat your mother; it wouldn't apply now would it?" He says and turns the key in the ignition and starts up the car.

I clench my jaw tight, resisting the urge to punch him in his perfect face. "You don't know anything about me or my mother." I say through gritted teeth.

"I know a lot more than you think princess." He replies and pulls away from the curb and begins driving onto the road.

"Don't fucking call me princess again." I say, closing my eyes, it being the only way for me to resist deforming his pretty face right now.

"Whatever you say princess." He says and I open my eyes to glare at him as he gives me a stupid wink and has a snide smirk on his face. At this moment I contemplated on opening the car door and walking home. It would be much better than sitting in a confined space with this asshole for another 10 minutes.

After 10 too many minutes of giving him directions to my house which is only about 3 to 4 blocks away from his, he pulls up on the curb in front of it. "You sure you live here?" He asks, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“Not all of us live in mansions Luke... I live in the real world." I say, opening his car door and stepping out before he could respond.

It's not like I live in a tiny house or a shack or something, but my house is nothing compared to his. I close his car door and walk up my steps, mentally preparing myself for what I might catch sight of when I step inside. Since I was around 14 I would ready myself to view things ahead of time, so I would know how to react, or how not to feel when I actually see whatever it is I could possibly see.

*Flashback*

I walk into the cold house which had the immediate smell of cigarette smoke and beer, along with other forms of alcohol that I wasn’t familiar with at my age. I put my book bag softly on the floor, not wanting to make any noise. I hear ruffled sounds coming from the kitchen. I slowly walk over and see my mother frantically searching every cabinet in the kitchen. “Mom?” I ask softly, wondering what she was looking for. She ignores me, which I wasn’t shocked by, she always did. “Mom,” I try again. No answer. Still she continues searching through cabinets. “Is dad coming home today?” I ask her, realizing it had been over a week since he had stepped foot in the house.

My mom’s body tenses and she stops her rabid search. She doesn’t look at me though and I didn’t know why. “Your father has better things to do.” She says, slamming the cabinet closed. I flinch as the loud noise echoes through the silent house. “Where the fuck is it?” She growls, searching in another cabinet. It’s then I knew what she was looking for, another bottle of whatever could make her heart colder than it already is. It was clear that she wasn’t fully sober, judging from the two beer bottles that were empty on the kitchen counter, but she wasn’t drunk…yet.

“Where is he?” I ask my mom, expecting her to just ignore me again, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. I didn’t know where he had been. He just told us that he had to leave for work. My mother would just curse at him as he left but I always believed him. Because why would he want to leave us? Leave me?