cool » l. hemmings

xvii.

Having a project during the last two weeks of school, especially in my least favorite class, should be against the law. I'd just asked Mr. Renolds about it, since the day he assigned it I wasn't paying attention and Luke wasn't much help when I remembered that we had it. Of course I didn't want to do it, my teacher was surprised when I even bothered to ask what it was about. But, again, it's my mother's fault.

To make things even weirder, I completely forgot that school was almost over. It was unlike me to forget such a wonderful occasion. The help Luke was giving me wasn't really at an organized time, either, more like half-assed by both of us in attempts, so that had me under more pressure to bring the last grade report to my mother.

"You're the one who's good at this," I groaned, walking home with Luke and discussing the project that we hadn't even started, despite having been assigned it a week and a half ago. "You do the thing."

All Luke did was laugh at me, shaking his head and clutching onto the straps of his bookbag. He kicked a rock off of the sidewalk and into the street, almost hitting an oncoming car. "It's called a partnered assignment for a reason, Michelle."

"Can't we avoid our problems by going on an adventure again?"

"No."

"But you did that to avoid your problems with Brooke the other day."

"You don't know if that was because of her or not," he mumbled, patting at his pockets to see which one held his key and his pack of cigarettes as we sat at his steps. "I just took you there to take you there."

"There's no way." Yes, there was a way. But with the evidence of his clear ignorance of the girl and his constant rolling his eyes at his phone, I'm more than positive that the visit to his secret place - that he even told me was to get away from the nuisance of people's idiocy - was more for the benefit of him and not me.

I've come to notice a lot about this boy. I couldn't tell if it was because he was an open book or if I was truly getting to know him. We haven't asked a lot of personal questions; I still don't know his birthday or why his favorite color is blue. I haven't learned why his family moved nine hours away. Yet he seemed to get me to answer almost anything - I told him why my brother lost his hearing, which took me half a year to tell Michael.

Even with my head leaning on my knees and my eyes closed to help soothe the headache the sun was giving me, I could sense the smallest shift of movements and an almost inaudible sigh. "It's not Brooke I have problems with."

"Who is it, then?" I questioned, lifting my head in genuine interest. Luke was far too passive to have problems with anyone else - and it didn't help that I was probably the only one he actually socialized with other than his family.

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

"You."

I sat there. Staring at him. I knew I was quite annoying and bothersome, and over the course of the last month I've probably kicked him off of the couch more times than I could probably count, but I haven't done anything that horrible.

Luke raked his hand through his hair and laughed quietly. "That came across wrong, didn't it?"

Was it not supposed to?

My head moved in a nod as the rest of me sat still, my tired eyes still looking at him. "Yeah, it did."

"I...you just, I don't know." A bird chirped in the tree next to his house. My ears involuntarily focused out for a second. "It's annoying - feelings, you know? Like I go one day with being completely fine with becoming your friend but another day I can't help but think about how you're friends with someone I never meant to hurt and how you probably hate me as much as he does, I would hate me, too - I do hate me for it."

"I don't hate you, Luke." Far from it, actually.

He began talking before I finished my sentence. "You're aggrivating. In a weirdly likeable way. Before I moved I was perfectly fine with who I had and I knew exactly what I wanted and now you're here and I have no idea-"

"Breathe," I said, attempting to lighten his spirits with a small laugh. It didn't work.

Listening to me this time, Luke took a deep breath and continued. "I mean, you like Michael, don't you? You have to. You act like it. It's a completely hopeless feeling I have, really. The only reason I've been ignoring Brooke is so I could actually know you - so I could get away, but all that's caused me is the most stress I've had ever in my life and having to think about you."

I have no idea what any of this means. He's rambling. He doesn't know what he's saying and I can tell. "You don't even know what's coming out of your mouth."

"No, I do. It's how fucking confusing this is, Michelle." Luke's hands were slightly pulling at the ends of his hair out of nervous habit. I reach up and grab his hands to stop him, he looks at me.

"What are you saying?"

Any minute now we should be leaving for our brothers. But I'm not sure he cared at the moment. "I'm saying I don't know."

"Know what?"

"You're so oblivious," he managed to laugh. "It's adorable, don't worry."

For a second, something in me stopped. "You just called me adorable."

"I know," Luke was smiling the slightest smile, barely visible, but it was there. He is aware of what he was saying. He is not rambling.

"But-"

Rambling begins again, his smile drops into one smaller. "I'm trying to say I like you, Michelle. I'm just not sure how much and-"

"Hey, it's okay. I like you, too - see? It's alright."

"It's not! I can't turn into who my girlfriend is! I have this constant urge to just take you everywhere that I'm supposed to go with the person I'm dating but I want that person to be you. And at the same time I want it to be Brooke." Every time I heard that name I had to resist the urge to gag. She was more than gag-worthy; I wanted to puke whenever she was talked about in even the slightest positive way. Brooke was not something positive. She is the Voldemort of the modern world and I may not be Harry Potter but I will try with all of my power to get her to completely disappear.

"I thought you said you were going to end it with her, Luke," I sighed, shifting on the steps so my back was now against the railing and I was looking directly at Luke. To say I was disappointed would probably be an understatement. I almost felt lied to. There was no amount of emotion to describe how I felt when he said he was actually going to finally do it.

I could see he was close to reaching for the thing he hasn't touched at all this week; the last thing I wanted was for him to get back into the habit again. I thought he was cooler without it. He didn't need to be cool for me to like him. With me mumbling a 'don't,' as if I was a mother scolding a child, his hand coward away from the pocket.

"I was going to. I can't," his eyes met mine, shining in the sun like they always did so beautifully. Apologetic, guilty - that was the look he was giving me.

I didn't ask him why.

I stood up from the steps.

"Let's get Grady and Ethan. We're late."

----

wrote this while rlly cold i guess you could say i was

extremely //cool// ;-)))