cool » l. hemmings

xi.

"You really don't know the answer?" Luke groaned from his place on my bed, laying on his stomach with his head hanging off and his arms holding a chemistry book open.

I shook my head and almost stabbed myself with the pencil. "You obviously must not see me sleeping in class."

I sat up from my place lying on the floor, giving up for the day. And we've only been working for half an hour. That's enough science for one day.

"You really don't like school do you?"

"And you do?"

"No, but I asked you."

"I don't believe in judging intelligence on percentile. I don't try."

My door flew open, revealing my brother with two cups. 'Mom wanted me to bring these.'

"What are they?" For all I knew it could be poison, I don't know if she's upset at me for an unknown reason.

Grady shrugged, handing them to me. I turned around and handed one to Luke blindly, not looking away from Grady while I talked to him.

'Smells like tea.' I still will never understand how people can sign while their hands are occupied.

"She's turning into a posh British woman. This is Australia."

He laughed, and I heard Luke laugh, too. Grady closed the door and left me to wallow in the amount of work I still had to do with the blonde boy still laying on my bed.

We hadn't talked about yesterday since I said I was willing to put it away until it needed to be brought out again. Which I'm sure will be soon, but I really don't want to get in the way of a relationship that isn't mine to get in the way of. As much as I had question after question about it racing through my head, I pushed them all back and acted as if I wasn't completely nervous about the growing feelings I had for this idiotic, edgy-but-nerdy boy.

"So you're saying you know how to do this?" Luke interrupted my thoughts, and I heard the large textbook he had fall closed.

My shoulders fell into a shrug, looking at him and nodding slightly. The cup Grady had brought me was on the desk against the wall next to me, where I was still leaning against the door.

"A lot of it, yeah. I just don't see why I should show that I know it with a bunch of exams that rely solely on memory."

A curious look crossed his face. When his phone rang, I watched his perfectly outlined jaw clench. Luke pulled his phone out after digging through his pockets, taking out loose cigarettes and his trusty lighter.

"You seem burdened, my friend," I joke when a groan released from the boy's chest.

"No, I'm alright. We'll let it ring." Throwing it on the other side of him, he slid off of my bed and onto his feet after grabbing one of the loose cigarettes he'd taken out a few seconds ago. "You coming with me?" One last ring of the phone, it silenced. Then, a small ding sounded, probably notifying him of a new voicemail. People still use voicemails, wow. Amazing.

Without verbally answering, I'd already turned the rusty knob of my door to allow us to leave the cramped room. Luke followed me, no doubt with his hands in his stupid pockets again. As our feet rushed down the stairs, my ears were filled with the sound of music I hadn't heard my mother play in forever. Like I've said before, she doesn't listen to music. At all.

"Hold on." I hadn't waited for Luke to acknoweledge this when I held my finger up. "Mom!" I yelled to her, walking toward her office room.

I grew up on my gradparents' old players, hearing The Beatles and sometimes even Jimi Hendrix almost every time we visited them. My mother, when we moved away from them and left them in Canada, still let Grady and I listen to all of those same artists as before. The week after Grady lost his hearing, I never heard her voice singing along to Michelle by The Beatles or saw her dancing with Grady to Twist and Shout. And I haven't for the past ten years.

But the sweet, sweet melody that was flowing throughout the house was all too familiar to me. Even not hearing my mother sing for so long, her voice was unmistakable.

Michelle, ma belle. These are words that go together well, my Michelle.

When I walked to the door of her office room, her back was turned to me as she straightened up her work desk. The radio sat on her filing cabinets was the source of the beautiful song, as I listened to my mom sing perfectly along with each word.

"Your mom has a good singing voice." I just about jumped out of my skin when Luke whispered from behind me. I turned around and hit him on his arm, and he looked down at mine and laughed.

"You've got goosebumps again, Michelle," he smirked, mock-singing my name as the song reached the exact lyric. I ignored him and turned back around to listen to my mom, smiling to myself. Her voice was always so soothing, so calm - as much as we don't get along very well, we get along with music more than anything in the world.

My shoulder against the threshold, with Luke's arm leaning against it above my head, we sat listening for the next thirty seconds before she began to turn around. Luke made sure to take the cigarette out of his hand and back in his pocket.

Can't ruin his perfect image in my mother's mind, can he?

"Michelle!" She placed her aging hand over her chest, rushing to turn the music off in her worn out flats. Why was she wearing dressy clothes on a Saturday?

"You were singing," I smiled brightly, not wasting any time in confronting her about it. I could feel Luke's chest just barely close enough to ghost over my back, it getting closer whenever he breathed out.

Avoiding my comment, she waved a small wave to Luke, who used the hand that was above my head on the threshold to make a small movement of hello. Making a small noise from my throat, that I couldn't describe if I tried, my mother's attention was adverted toward me.

"Music - that was music. Singing, you sang." I could almost imagine Luke's eyebrows either raising or furrowing in confusion. I hadn't explained to him why exactly this was such a great thing to me.

With a small, shy smile, she nodded and turned back around, carrying herself behind the white desk she was straightening up previously. "I have work to finish. Go finish your studying."

I wasn't going to get anything more than that, probably; my mother being a beyond stubborn woman. So I turned around, almost forgetting Luke was behind me until I ran into him. my feet took me back a few steps and I looked up at him. "Let's go."

"Where?" Did he really forget why we left my room in the first place?

"To do that, thing, you know. With the thing." I flicked my head in the direction of the front door, throwing my fingers in a motion as if to say 'so you can do what you lied to my mother about not doing,' in case my mom could still hear us, only being a few feet away from the door.

His mouth fell into the shape of an o, "Yes, that thing. I like that thing."

"Does it make you feel cool?" I rolled my eyes, remembering when he said he didn't think he was, which I still didn't believe was why it started in the first place.

He nodded with his unlit cigarette in his mouth, beating me to pushing the door open so we were met with the wind that was blowing today.

"Very."

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i'm so happy this is almost at 1k, as small as that number is this isn't my best book i've ever written but i'm enjoying it so i'm glad other people are too.

and also i'm working on a michael story bc michael is my sunshine (✿◠‿◠)

so if he's got a special place in your lil cute heart then i'm gonna tell you when it's published