repercussions | l.h

FOUR: GIVING THINGS A TRY

"We need to talk."

It was four words that usually made Luke nervous. And, even as he was the one saying them, it was doing just that. He realized it was something he needed to do and say for his own peace of mind but it didn't make it feel any easier. The woman he said it to looked up from the papers piled on her desk. She almost wanted to scoff at him, like she didn't have time for whatever he was trying to pull.

The woman was his manager. Her name was Camille and she was a lot like Luke in more ways than one. She had a bit of a temper, she cared only about certain people, and she didn't have time to be wasted. Even so, she never saw them alike. The way she saw Luke she would never admit if she wanted to keep the job she had. She knew her place, somewhat.

"I don't have time for that," Camille mumbled, misinterpreting what Luke was even talking about. Which, ultimately, bothered him. He came up to the edge of her desk and sat there, pulling the papers out from under her hands before she could stop him.

He flung the paper to the other side of the room and kicked the pen with it. She shot him a glare, but now he had her full attention, so he didn't really care, "what do you want?"

"Who told Nellie?" He asked. Camille rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She didn't know why Luke was bothering to ask. To her it didn't make a difference who told Nellie or how she found out because Nellie seemed content on moving on without him.

"Does it matter?" Camille responded. Luke glared back at her, thinking that the answer was obvious.

"It does," Luke said. Camille waved him off, standing up from her desk before she walked over to the other side of the room. She closed the door quietly, leaning against it for a moment before she spoke.

"I told you I handled it," Camille said, "don't you trust me?"

"Not really," Luke said, making her give him a look. He was being honest. He didn't really trust Camille with much, which was ironic, but Luke was, well too himself to realize it. Camille didn't really trust Luke either. She thought he was too easy on certain people, but it was her job to make him look tougher than that.

"We spoke about this," she sighed, "people got pictures of you and that girl—whatever her name is—they put them on the Internet, and Nellie inevitably saw it that way. Everyone thinks you're with her just like they're supposed to believe. I handled it. Just like I promised I would."

Luke looked indifferent about the response, as if Camille was lying to him right to his face. For all he knew she was. He didn't exactly trust his gut anymore. He did once impulsively and now he lived alone.

"See the part where you say Nellie probably saw it on the Internet is the part that confuses me," he said. Camille raised an eyebrow at him as she placed the papers he threw back onto her desk.

"And why is that?"

"I have a hunch Nellie doesn't really spend her free time looking me up on the Internet. She doesn't exactly cry with joy when she thinks of me," he mumbled, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit when he heard himself say them out loud.

"Does it really matter, Luke?" She asked, sounding tired when she spoke. Luke clenched his jaw when she asked him that for a second time. It did matter, because he needed to know exactly what Nellie knew; he needed to know exactly what truth to tell her if he wanted her back. Lying about it was only going to dig him a hole, and he was already stuck deep enough in the one they dug now.

"It does, actually. Let's just end it," Luke said. Camille looked at him like he has lost his mind. She laughed and shook her head, making Luke furrow his brow.