alumni ➢ luke hemmings [DISCONTINUED]

3.0 ➢ Little Pet.

SOPHIE HAYES

"Let me get this straight," Calum starts, balancing a pool stick on his shoulders behind his head. Shifting all of his weight onto one foot and raising an eyebrow at me, it's obvious that he's waiting for me to go, but I don't know how to play pool- so I smack the red one with the wrong end of my own and am thankful when he doesn't say anything about it. "You want me to ask Michael about him sending you flowers because of what, exactly?"

"I'm just curious," I shrug nonchalantly, hoping to God and everything above and beyond that he leaves it at that.

"Why don't you ask him, then?"

"I can't,"

"Why's that?"

"I'm busy,"

"Busy doing what," Calum says, hitting one ball against another and miraculously getting two on the other side in the same hole. My jaw falls slightly ajar at the skill, but he's not looking at me, "Avoiding him?"

"I'm not avoiding him,"

"Talk to him then,"

"I'd rather not, honestly."

"If that's not called avoiding someone, what is?" he asks, a slight scoff to his voice, and it annoys me that he's right.

Truth is, I just don't know what I'd say to Michael. It's difficult being in the position that I'm in. I've never been in it; nobody as close to me as Michael is has ever seen me in that way, or at least I've never been told that they do. This is new territory- everything, really, is new territory, and I'm just being overly cautious of where I step.

"Can you just ask him, please?"

"What's in it for me?"

I shrug, knowing that he's not being serious. From the short time that I've known him, I've come to the conclusion that Calum is the sort of friend to give you hell and back when it comes to favours, but he always does them in the end. At least I'm hoping that applies here, anyway.

"I'll let you win at pool," I say, somewhat pathetically. But much to my delight, a grin plasters across his face, and he hits the second to last ball that he needs to win before standing up straight again and extending a hand out for me to shake.

"Deal."

➢

"What will it take for you to leave me alone?"

"Money."

Luke rolls his eyes, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard of a very expensive laptop that I've never seen before and I giggle, bringing a warm mug up to my lips to take cautionary sips. Beside us is Sadie, her little waitress notepad held up to mime taking orders that don't exist- a clear excuse to annoy her grumpy cousin, but the other customers don't need to know that.

"Will you go away?" Luke groans, looking longingly at his designated beanbag and probably dreaming of a whole new scenario where Sadie can't bug him (it's the 'Quiet Area' of the cafe, and normally when people want drinks or food, they leave it to go to the booths). It's his own fault for 'changing it up' a bit anyway; nobody, certainly not me, asked him to slide into the seat directly opposite my own with no reason whatsoever.

I can't say that I mind it at all. He's looking very good today- good being an understatement. His usual white shirt and ripped jeans look different, but different in a good way, and I find myself staring more than I'd care to admit.

"No."

"It's literally rush hour," Luke glares, gesturing towards the growing number of occupants filling the other tables around us. Sadie just shrugs. "Sadie, just fuck off,"