Girls|Under Construction

Chapter 6

That night didn't go anywhere. I had grown responsibilities last night. As soon as the first hit on the high came, I left. I didn't see Luke, and I wasn't expecting to. Expecting and wanting are two different things. And although Luke seems to be addicted to fighting, and it would fit his demeanour.

Why Luke paid any attention to me made my brain burn out. I feel as if I've made a connection with him, and I know that sounds like something a crack head would say, and I am stoned off my head. I've never believed in love at first sight, and I never will. But Luke ignites these sparks in my lungs, making it difficult to breath.

I've never been one to write poetry, either. But when I think of him, words fly to my head that I've never thought of including in the same sentence as 'Luke Hemmings'. Haikus brew in my head as I wait for the bus. His smile could burn out a thousand suns, dampening their appetite to destruct, and his lips soak a thousand fair maidens.

I know that's not a haiku, but it sounds true as hell. And it is, because I'm one of those maidens, although I'm not quite as fair as those of the same likes of Hayley. But I'm a maiden all the same.

I boarded the bus and pimply scanned the card, noticing the same bus driver from the nights before. "Hello love."

"Oh, bite me." I walked to the end of the bus, ignoring the faces of the few people seated around me. Smoking marijuana really cuts your attention back. I didn't see Luke at all, which made me sad. And because marijuana is Satan, I cried.

Just a little bit, not water works in summer. Be was probably off with some girl that looks like Hayley.

---

I got home later that night. It was relatively early, 10:46. Dad was still fussing around with papers. "Maybe I should tell her. No, no, she would be too disappointed. I should have accepted the offer, I could have gotten money out of her."

Something in my heart told me to be quiet, and so I followed my instinct. "So much talent. God, why haven't they called? She'll be a physiologist anyway, she'll forget about being an author."

He then shoved all the envelopes into the shoebox they came from. The amount of paper was alarming, and it sparked my thirsty interest. He tucked the shoebox underneath a cherry would counter. When he stood up and entered his bedroom, closing himself from the rest of the house, I sprung to action.

In the next few minutes my world was healed, all of its cracks and blemishes faded away into an oblivion only the rich and famous know of.

My fingertips slowly grasped the edges of the box, pulling it out from its makeshift home. I never knew so many lies and years of work could be stored in such a shabby shoebox, for a crappy company too.

As the lid was lifted, confusion clouded my every thought of the past 17 and a 1/2 years.

The box was stuffed with letters from various large companies. Puffin, Scholastic, Apex partners and even Wiley.

The next minute was a blur of myself pouring the contents onto the door and attempting to swim through the paper, and scanning a few confirmed contracts over.

I guess the sight of my happy face has never pleased the gods, so they had to rain on my parade.

In the rush of opening the few great letters, I expected everything to be uphill. That all ended when my fingers met the letters at the bottom.

WARNING: CONTRACT REVOKED

WARNING: LAST CHANCE

CONTRACT CLOSED

Did you know that the human minds reaction time for the majority of people is 3 times slower than electricity running through a wire. At that moment, I was sure the fact had gotten the numbers wrong.

It felt like hours in which I was staring at the papers, trying to understand where my contract went. Suddenly, in a tidal wave of emotion, I knew.

All the dates, statements and warnings kind of wafted perfectly together. The fact that my father had been hiding the forms from me was evident, but the reasons behind the terrorisation were veiled.

Without another question infiltrated my mind, I rushed to my room, throwing the shoebox to the ground. I grabbed a bag and some clothes, shoes and my laptop.

I needed to escape the lies and regret, I needed my brother.

---

Well, that was short.

I know.

Don't kill me.

Well, here you go, Tits.