cool » l. hemmings

xix.

⇉ michelle. ⇇

"I'm only over here because you've left me two days without any help for school," I said to Luke as soon as he answered the door.

Of course that wasn't the reason. It was one of them, sure, I'd brought my chemistry books to further authenticate my partial lie. It wasn't the main reason, though. I missed Luke, I'm not sure if it's because I actually knew I felt the same or if it's just the fact that I enjoyed someone having feelings for me and admitting them and showing them and being attracted to me. I just needed him around for things to feel right. It didn't feel normal without the weird blonde boy from down the street in my life for two days.

"I'll take it," he bit at his lip and his tongue stuck out to play with the ring attached to it. "I just needed you here." He's doing this purpose.

"Right," I made sure to rush past him and up the stairs. I was too confused to act like I was one-hundred percent comfortable at the moment. I felt extremely awkward.

I heard Luke sigh and run up the stairs, coming up closely behind me. Fingers wrapped around my arm. "Please don't act so weird."

Was I not supposed to? I can't get the image of Brooke and Luke in this very spot, in front of his door, out of my head and it made things even more difficult than they already were. "I'm not. I need help before final exams next week."

"You are. I'm sorry, Michelle." I didn't want to look at him, because I knew if I did I would be looking at the bright blue eyes of an irresistibly adorable pleading Lucas. And I can't be that vulnerable right now.

When I nodded shortly, the door opened and I assumed Luke had done it. His room was messy, like the last time I was in it. When I had slept over. Those sheets were tainted now, he probably forgot about what he said on Tuesday when he called Brooke over to make out on the very bed I slept on with him. Not that it mattered - it wasn't my bed. It was his. I was being protective over a bed. I'm truly going insane over this boy.

"Why are your cigarettes on the floor?" My eyes finally looked up at Luke's, sadly, thinking he had started smoking as regularly as he used to.

"You can put them in the garbage, if you want."

"Wait - wait, what?" Not that I didn't want to, I just was so used to the idea of Luke needing the feeling of his cigarettes in his pocket. I remember one day he told me why he still kept them there even when he barely ever smoked once a day anymore.

"They give me reassurance that something is always there for me," he told me during lunch. That day, we were sat at somewhere on a random patch of grass and not under the willow tree like we would've been. I don't remember why.

"But I'm there for you," I said.

"I can't come to you every time I feel anxious and stressed out, Michelle. I'd be with you every second of the day if that happened."

I remember thinking, 'well, I don't mind,' but I never said it to him, and I wish I had. Maybe that would've changed something.

Maybe we wouldn't be where we are now; not having spoken for two days and me finding out he was just with Brooke not even an hour ago.

"Do you want me to keep doing it?" Even his quiet laugh couldn't disrupt the awkwardness I'm sure both of us felt hanging in the air. We were both still standing, but he was about to sit on his bed while I was moving to the spinning chair on the opposite side of the room.

"No, no. I was just confused," my head shook, and I got distracted as I pushed my feet to spin me in the chair. "We need to talk-"

"Not about school."