gone ✧*｡ luke a.u.

16: july 3 2011

LUKE

THURSDAY, JULY 3RD, 2011

Luke and Ellie caught the bus together every day for the next month. He didn't touch her again, even though a part of him longed to; he knew how on edge she was when he'd tried. But she started letting him listen to her music with her, and steal the seat beside her before Hadley Browne could.

Of course, Luke knew the boys didn't understand his budding new bond with the quiet, forgotten girl in their year, but he had never really expected them to. Until you truly noticed her, Ellie simply flew under the radar. The boys must hardly have known she existed until now.

But there was something else in their reactions, too. Hurt. While Luke doubted they would mention it, he could see it in their faces when he left band practices a little earlier, got ready faster, and in the end chose to sit away from them on the way to school. By now, they hardly spoke in the mornings, compared to how things had always been.

He felt bad, but he liked Ellie. He liked being around her. He wasn't even sure what it was that drew him to her -- maybe the way he knew there was so much to her that he wasn't seeing, that she wasn't saying, or her music taste or the things she drew, or maybe it was just the way her legs looked when her school skirt rode up.

Bit by bit, he felt as though he cracked her open, every day getting her to smile that much more or tell him about one of her favourite bands or music artists or explain what she'd drawn on her phone cover or hand or notebook. The tension in her had started to ease, and he found himself longing to see another flash of her wry grin or hear her quiet laughter. The more he saw of her, the worse it all became, until soon she even wove herself into the unwritten song lyrics in his head. 

When he slung himself into the seat beside her on Thursday, July 3rd, she was already there waiting for him.

"I found this new band that you might like," she told him by way of a greeting, scrolling intently through one of her many Soundcloud playlists. "I can't remember what they're called, hold on."

"Spanish Sahara," Luke read, looking over Ellie's shoulder as she finally settled on one. "Foals." 

"Listen," was all she responded, turning halfway to hand him one of her headphones. Their fingers brushed as he took it, and he tried not to let that pull him from the soft sounds drifting from the miniature speakers. 

Whatever he had expected was defied the moment he heard it. It felt like winter, somehow—like the silent fall of snow he had once seen atop Mount Hotham. Staring at the scratched back of the bus seat in front of them, Luke found his smile fading, his words falling silent on his lips before he could speak them. The song swept over him like a crashing wave. 

So I walked into the haze
And a million dirty ways
Now I see you lying there
Like a lie low losing air, air

"Where'd you find this?" Luke asked quietly, as the swirling song began to pick up its pace. From the corner of his eye, he could see her head tipping to lean against the cool glass of the bus window, and the way her fingers fidgeted idly with the hem of her skirt.

"It was on the Triple J Top 100 last year," she murmured, watching him. "I've been trying to find it since."

Now the waves they drag you down
Carry you to broken ground
Though I find you in the sand
Wipe you clean with dirty hands

"Do you like them?" Ellie asked quietly. As she turned her head to look back through the window, Luke found himself turning to look at her, drinking in the sight of her. Already, errant curls fell around her features, twisting in dark ringlets over the high planes of her cheekbones. This close, he could see the flutter of her lashes and the faint freckles on her skin. He could trace the bow of her lips with his eyes.