gone ✧*｡ luke a.u.

22: august 4 2011

ELLIE

MONDAY, AUGUST 4TH, 2011

On Sunday night Morgan didn't show her face -- which was likely a good thing, after what had happened at Luke's house -- and with David on a long night shift at work, the house seemed almost empty. Dan had given up on maths homework and had instead started watching some new season of a TV show on his laptop, and Ro had gone to bed early at the prospect of school the next day, which meant everything was silent.

It was strange, to have things so quiet. Ellie could almost let herself relax, with a mug of (cheap) chamomile tea and music in her ears. It wouldn't last, of course, but she had anticipated that anyway, and she forced herself not to think of what would happen the moment her mother reappeared. So long as she didn't think about the catastrophe at Luke's house, or her drunken tears on Saturday night - or, even worse, how badly she wanted to feel his touch again - she was fine. She was okay.

It shocked her that she slept that night at all, but somehow her lights were out and her mind was gone before the clock could hit twelve - one of the earliest nights she'd had in a long time. It wasn't an exemplary sleep by any means, but she hadn't realised just how much she would appreciate a good eight or so hours, instead of the usual bare minimum she scraped by on.

The next day just seemed gloomy and grey. Luke passed her once or twice at school, but they didn't talk, and he didn't catch her eyes. She didn't allow herself to take offense. He was with his friends, and she spent most of her day with Maxie, anyway - if she was in his position, she wouldn't want to speak to her either. Especially after the mess she made of herself yesterday.

Part of her regretted walking out on him like that - she knew he was only trying to help, because that was the type of person he was. He was good and kind and helpful and tried his best to be funny, even though he usually wasn't. But she couldn't stay there, she couldn't, not with Morgan and Jack there, not with the pressure of Luke's eyes trying to catch hers and all the hopes he had that she would never be able to meet. She wasn't enough for him, and she didn't want to make him deal with her shit. Yet she still regretted leaving him.

No. It wasn't something she wanted to dwell on. As much as she wanted to walk up to him and let him hold her - an urge that was almost overwhelming, and made her chest ache - she couldn't, and she didn't. She forced it out of her mind, and that was that.

So she kept to Hadley on the bus to school and the bus back, and stayed mostly by Maxie's side during break times. The two of them hadn't been speaking as much recently - although there were bruises in the shape of fingerprints on Maxie's arms that Ellie saw when she rolled her sleeves up, so Ellie didn't really blame her for the silence - but it was nice to speak to each other again. They found some sort of mutual companionship in one another, and their mutual unwillingness to share their miseries.

When Ellie got home, her cheeks and nose pink from the cold air outside, Morgan was smoking against the counter. She had just started a new cigarette, and for once her face was clear of makeup. Her hair was just thrown up into a bun, and there was no frown or agitation to mar her expression. It surprised Ellie how pretty her mother looked in that moment - how pretty she might have been, if she didn't ruin herself so badly.

When Ellie entered, dumping her schoolbag against the arch of the living room, Morgan's frown returned. She stood up straighter and cleared her throat, but Ellie just shook her head, not meeting her mother's eyes.

"I really don't wanna hear it," she said, cutting Morgan off before she could speak as she made her way to the stairs. It was only a Monday, the beginning of the week, but already Ellie's back felt sore and her neck ached and her legs were tired and her feet were dragging and her head pounded. She wasn't in the mood to be interrogated about Luke. She wasn't in the mood for anything.