[12] Avril Lavigne

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[Ellie]

“Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?" - Avril Lavigne 

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I stand outside Ashton’s door. It’s a strange time to be here – straight after school on a Friday afternoon, still in my uniform with my mostly empty backpack dangling off one shoulder. My hair is tugged upwards in a ponytail, and I have an absent-minded desire to let it out.

Just as that thought passes through my head the door swings open, revealing the one and only Mr Luke Hemmings, hair as quiffed as usual, a Nirvana shirt hanging off his frame. I look at him in surprise.

‘Oh, hey Luke,’ I say. ‘I was just wondering if Ashton was in?’

Luke glances backwards and then shakes his head, arm resting on the doorframe. ‘Sorry, Ellie. He’s out getting groceries. Do you want to come in?’

‘Nah, it’s fine,’ I say with a brief smile. ‘I was just dropping off his shirt.’ When Luke raises a curious eyebrow I flush bright red, shaking my head to correct myself. ‘We went swimming,’ I say quickly. ‘He left it in my bag.’

Luke blinks then laughs, and I smile bashfully at the floor. When I look up he nods his head inside, a smile still lingering on his face. ‘You sure you don’t want to hang around? He’ll be back soon, with pizza. We’re watching a movie.’

I chew my lip, considering the offer. Dad wasn’t going to be back until late-ish anyway due to a long shift at work after taking time off to look after Mum, so I shrug. ‘If that’s okay with you guys.’

‘’course it is,’ he says warmly, holding the door open for me. I quickly duck inside, looking around the small cottage house. I can see the spikey pink hair of Michael in the other room, lit up in strange colours from the television light.

I’m about to go over to greet the others when Luke wanders into the kitchen, motioning for me to follow. He opens the fridge and sticks his head inside as I lean up against the bench, eyes flicking over the contents of the room.

It’s a small kitchen – nothing a chef would be able to work with, but for the purpose of feeding four teenage boys, it would do a pretty good job. The bench is marble, thick and cold with dark silver veins, with a few haphazardly-resting items scattered over its surface. A calendar that looks as if it were a fan-made gift sits proudly next to the fruit bowel, which currently seems to be lacking any fruit.

‘It’s either water or beer at the moment,’ Luke calls back to me, his voice slightly muffled as he digs around the fridge with his head in the door. He finally pulls back and shrugs, looking mildly embarrassed as he rubs his neck. ‘Sorry. Hopefully Ashton will bring back some coke or something.’

I laugh lightly. ‘It’s all good. I’ll have some water, thanks.’

Luke pulls out a glass from the top cupboard and tilts the iced jug of water to an angle that lets it flow quickly, but not quickly enough to overflow. I watch the stream slide over the lip of the jug, lapping at the edges of my glass. Luke passes it to me and I take a long drink, mumbling my thanks.

I watch the lanky boy as he leans into the fridge and takes a beer for himself, popping the lid and taking a swig. I thought it would feel more awkward than it does now, after our kiss, but it’s not as bad as I had imagined; you can tell there’s something mildly tense between us, but we still manage to pick up a conversation as we await Ashton’s arrival.

Meet Me at Infinity ➵ Ashton IrwinWhere stories live. Discover now