gone ✧*｡ luke a.u.

5: may 9th 2011

LUKE

FRIDAY, MAY 9TH, 2011

—

As hard as he tried to do his maths homework, Luke couldn't concentrate.

At all.

Normally he was good at maths; now, he felt like his mind was betraying him. The expressions looked like they were written in another language.

He groaned and spun around in circles in his desk chair, but it did nothing to help his concentration. If anything, it made it ten times worse, and for a minute the dizziness messed with his head and made the world move.

Once it had subsided, Luke grabbed his phone off his desktop, irritated. It had been vibrating non-stop with endless messages from his group chat with Calum, Michael and Ashton. It seemed like they basically lived on social media.

None of the messages really interested him. For a good ten minutes, the only thing the boys had been talking about was which Victoria's Secret model had the best boobs. (Michael said Candice, Calum said Adriana, Ashton said Behati. Luke thought they were all wrong -- it was definitely Miranda.)

Luke didn't give a shit about the conversation, though. Not really. He shut off his phone and tossed it across the room, onto his bed, where it just bounced and rolled off onto the floor, landing with a heavy thud. Just his luck.

He bent over and rubbed his temples, feeling an oncoming headache pounding at his skull. Luck really wasn't with him today. First basically crashing over that girl at lunch, then getting into a fight with Anna and missing the bus home . . .

Anna was Luke's -- well, he didn't know what to call her. They weren't dating, exactly, but they screwed once on a balcony at New Year's, and ever since then they'd been in a sort-of thing. She was nice enough, but he didn't like her, not like that. And she got mad at him for it.

"I don't just want to be some toy to you, Luke," she had argued after school. It was raining, and he was huddled under shelter, freezing his ass off, while Anna stood over him.

"You were never a toy," he said. "I've never thought of you like that, Anna."

"But I'm not your girlfriend, and I'm not some sleaze, either. I won't sleep around with you just because your dick wants it." She wiped her eyes so fast Luke almost missed it, but not quite. She was crying. "You either have me or you don't. You can't have both, Luke. You can't be in the middle."

He didn't say anything. She was right, he knew that; he just didn't know what to do about it.

After all, how were they supposed to make it work? Anna's guy friends were the kind who would go to local pubs and play club football on the weekends; they mocked quiet music kids like Luke. It never would have worked for him and Anna, even if he had wished it would. They were from different worlds, and he couldn't give her enough to make her happy. 

Eventually she left, jogging into the rain. It ran down her face in long rivulets, like teardrops, and made her mascara smudge beneath her eyes.

So Luke missed the bus. And his bag got sopping wet in the rain, which meant most of his handwritten work got smudged and mutilated. "I hate everything," he groaned now, pressing his forehead to his desk. The chair continued to spin idly beneath him.

"Luke." His door opened and he looked up to see his mum's head poking inside. "Ben's made dinner."

Luke wrinkled his nose. "You know Ben can't cook, right?"

She gave him a look. "Luke."

He huffed and pushed himself out of his chair. "Fine. But don't blame me if I end up poisoned, hospitalised, or dead. Or worse, expelled."