cool » l. hemmings

iv.

It had been a week since Grady first started talking to Ethan, and introduced me to both him and his brother, Luke. In that time, it'd become a regular thing to meet up with Luke when it was time to pick up Grady and Ethan from school and have all of us walk back to my house to sit in the basement for an hour or two.

Within this week, also, I had discovered that Luke was in a few of my classes. Not all, that would be quite weird. I don't know how. It just would be. Already in this week he'd proven to be a whole lot better at anything than I was, poking fun at anything he had the chance to.

Which was exactly what he was doing today as I walked home. He'd decided today would be a great day to walk with me for the first time.

"Aboot, oot. You really are from Canada, aren't you?" he laughed, trying his best to immitate my accent that still managed to stick with me. Today he wore a worn out Guns n' Roses tee, with the only pair of pants I think he owned clinging to his legs, one knee exposed. His hair was messily peaking out of a black beanie that he had to adjust to stay on his head every five minutes.

"Did you think I was lying?"

"No, I'd just think that after so many years here you'd have at least a small Aussie accent."

I'd learned a lot about Luke and his brother Ethan, as much as he's learned about me and Grady. They'd moved from Melbourne to Sydney, so not as far as Grady had made me think. He knew that my little brother was practically in love with the Legend of Zelda video games and anything related to it.

Though I still have yet to get Luke into The 1975, he's managed to play blink-182 almost every day since we started walking to our brothers' school together.

"So can I ask you a question?" I asked, moving my feet as quickly as I could to keep up with Luke. He walked much faster than I did. Curse my short legs.

"Isn't that already a question?"

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes as we crossed the street that crossed us over from the school lot to our neighborhood. "Seriously, though."

"Yeah, go ahead, I guess," his shoulders moved in a shrug while his bright blue eyes shined in the intense sun and looked at me expectantly.

"That lighter, that you always have in your back pocket. What's up with that?"

"I'm a pyromaniac, Michelle."

The completely serious and straight look he was currently giving me almost led me to believe he was telling the truth, but the small smile that ended up edging its way onto the corner of his lips told otherwise.

We turned a corner, able to see Luke's house by now. "For a second I almost believed you. Never do that again. Jesus."

"I'm not Jesus, but pretty close."

"Can you answer the question?" I groan, growing impatient.

"There are these things with tobacco in them, they're shaped like sticks. Heard of them?" Luke was obviously in a playful mood today, though he was never not in one of those moods, really.

"Yes, Luke."

"I don't have enough money to buy anymore of those for the next week and a half, so I figured I'd occupy myself by playing with the lighter."

"I though only cool kids smoked," I smirked up at him as we approached his house. I'd just taken notice that instead of him following me home, he had managed to make me follow him.

"Exactly." He stepped up to his door, grabbing his key from his back pocket and letting us both inside. This was the first time I'd been inside of his house, since the majority of our time was spent with Grady and Ethan in my basement. "Now can I ask you a question?"

"Isn't that already a question?" I pull a weird face and mock his voice from earlier.

After laughing, Luke led me upstairs casually, as if I'd been here billions of times before. "Grady told me about a certain boy named Michael that you hang out with. Why haven't I met him?"

"God, you sound like my mother. And it never really seemed important to mention to someone I've only known for about six days."

"Wait! Is this the one guy that I saw waiting for you on Friday?" he sat on a random spot on his floor, patting the place next to him.

I thought back; it probably was, no one else waits for me afterschool and I don't know any other people. And it was the Friday that we'd planned to watch Beetlejuice. "Yeah, that was him. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," he shifted uncomfortably, shooting me a nervous smile. "Just wanted to put a face to the name is all."

We sat for a while. I couldn't tell if we just didn't know each other enough to start talking about random things or if it was just a completely calm silence. His room was a reflection of who I figured he was, you know, first impression inferences. There were rows and rows of CD cases on shelves in a corner, with a few of them scattered around his room - on his desk, on his bed, even one on the floor.

I spotted a few clusters of posters and pictures up on his grey walls. All Time Low, Good Charlotte, all the bands Michael and I listened to a lot. Some that I'd heard of but never given the time of day before.

My only question was how Luke's family got unpacked so quickly. It took my family a whole month to gain motivation to finish placing everything where it needed to be.

I looked around the room for a clock of some sort, having forgotten my phone at home today. Almost time to get Grady and Ethan from school.

"Do you want to head out to get Grady and Ethan?" I ask Luke, who was mindlessly looking around his own room while chewing on his lower lip.

"Oh, yeah. Let's go."

† † † † † † †

We now sat against the old brick building that our brothers were going to come out of any minute. It was silent, with our backs against the school as we waited for the sea of middle schoolers to come out of the door. Maybe we left too early.

I remember asking Luke the time earlier, and him saying 2:30. About fifteen minutes too early.

I looked over to Luke. He had his hands in his pockets - I'm starting to think that's another habit - and stared down at the concrete, cracked and lined with dried up gum.

"So, this Michael guy...how long have you known each other?" The silence had been broken as he asked the question, looking up and surprised that I'd been already looking at him.

"Since I was six, I think. Ten years," I squinted as the sun peaked out from behind the clouds. He nodded shortly, digging around in his pocket for a minute.

A smile broke out onto his face. "No way."

"What?"

He pulled something out of his pocket, reaching for his lighter in the other. "I must've left a cigarette in these the last time I wore them."

"Wait, so you don't only own one pair of pants? You have multiple pairs of the same kind? Oh, thank god," I reached my arms into the air overexaggerating, tilting my head toward the sky. Putting my arms down and looking at him again, now with the cigarette in his mouth, I asked, "Why'd you start smoking anyway?"

There was a small laugh that escaped Luke's lips as he pulled the cigarette away and flicked off the access ash. "I used to be friends with this popular kid, I don't even remember his name. Calvin or something. In grade nine he was all, 'it's cool, it feels good.' Idiot," he mumbled the last word. I'm not sure if it was toward himself or this friend of his.

"You smoke because you think you're cool?"

"I smoke because I know I'm not."

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things are gettin friendly between luke boy and michelle kinda aYe

((i make too many notes lol oops))