try hard // luke hemmings

Chapter Seventeen

I shower quickly, as to not keep Luke waiting. My head was mulling over everything that has happened in the past couple days, including my sudden and hungry attraction to Luke. I was seriously confused. One minute I was thinking up plans on how to kill him and the next I'm imagining myself pinned to the bed, with Luke over me, his lips attached to my neck, hips moving in.... and out...

I shake my head, towel drying my hair, not bothering with turning on the blow dryer. I dress in sweats and tank top. I put on a bra. I feel like if I wear more clothes, the less temptation I'll have at fulfilling my dirtiest fantasies with the boy with the lip ring.

I tap out a text to Luke, not really sure why I'm agreeing to this. I don't want to share anything with him about my life. He didn't deserve to know so much about me. I hardly knew anything about him, besides the fact that he was a fucking asshole who crept into girls' rooms and used vulgar words to describe how one was dressed. He also had annoying, but slightly endearing, friends.

luke; are you going to force me to climb that godforsaken tree?

I chuckle then reply.

yes

I run a brush through my hair quickly, hurting myself once or twice when I yank or pull too hard. My phone voices the Marimba ringtone, signaling another incoming text.

luke; im coming in through your back door- which still happens to be unlocked, baby doll.

I roll my eyes at his pet name and tap out ok. I walk downstairs, phone in hand, illuminating my way to the kitchen. Luke is already inside, head stuck inside the pantry. He looks up only when he hears me come in. "Ah, welcome Chey. Beer?" he asks, pulling out two bottles from the floor of the pantry. I shake my head.

"Put those back. We're not gonna drink." I say.

He chuckles lightly. "You abide to rules, don't you?" I shrug, taking a seat on the counter. "Not so much abiding, but Logan will notice that there's beer missing."

Luke nods placing the beers back. "Logan, Logan, Logan. The infamous man. He pulled you inside by your ponytail that one time, didn't he?" he asked, gesturing behind his head, as if he were yanking on his own ponytail. I look down at my hands, folding them on my lap. "Yes."

"Also the man who yelled at you and called you a bitch when we were talking on the phone." He said, now more as a statement than a question. I nod. Luke scrapes a chair out, turning it so his legs straddle the back rest, facing me. "Is he your real father?"

"No. Oh god, no. If he was I'd probably kill myself. He's my step-father." I explain. "What happened to your real father? Did your parents divorce?" Luke asks.

I shake my head quickly. "No! Oh no. My parents were so in love. They would've done anything for each other, for me. My dad- uh, he died. In a car accident." I look down at the tile floor. "We were coming home from church and my mom and dad were singing a song. A Beatles' song. Hey Jude. No, it was something more upbeat. Twist and Shout. That was it. They were belting the lyrics out, and every once in a while, my daddy would look back, to see me singing along with them. He looked back one second too long."

I take a shaky breath. "We didn't run into a family, no. It was a light pole. When he turned back to the road, he swerved, trying to avoid a crossing family with a stroller. He hooked the steering wheel to the left too much and there it was. The pole."

I close my eyes, stopping the tear flow I didn't know had started. I see it all in my head, though. The bright sunny day didn't seem so cheery anymore. My dad wasn't even in his seat. He was half inside the car, half out the windshield. "He was gone. Declared dead on arrival."