Brighter Places [🗸]

23. lucas garcia wants to be my therapist

get ready bc the onslaught of spanish is coming at u like a barrage this chapter (ft. lucas' family) !! 😌

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Another GSA meeting comes to a close.

It's Lucas' usually double-clap, the corner of his lips tilted into a grin, that easy: "get out of here"  that I've grown accustomed to in just months. With that, everyone disperses.

Peter makes his way out of the door, arm slung around Avery's whose arm is slung around his as she speaks five miles per minute about the vegan burger recipe that she plans to whip out with her parents after school today, Peter listening with that easy grin of his.

 Monday and Ellie are right behind them, Monday giving me one of those endearing kicks in the foot before they turn around, Ellie showing them something on her phone as the door shuts behind them.

A half grin slides onto my lips as Lucas rises to his feet, shuffling folders and papers, eyes focused as he shoves them into his backpack, humming along to whatever song he's supposed to be singing at the play as he does so.

Once done, he rises to his feet, standing in the center of the room and shifting from side to side. I lean back in my chair, an eyebrow raised as he glances over at me, mouth opening but nothing coming out.

My eyebrows fly up higher. "What's up?" I ask, feet mindlessly tapping against the ground as Lucas searches for words, mouth still opening and closing with no audible answer.

His eyes fall to the ground before asking, "want to come over?"

A little laugh escapes my lips. This is what he's worried about asking? A smirk curves onto my lips as my eyebrows wiggle on instinct.

"Getting scandalous, Lucas?" I tease, grins still smug as I find his eyes, despite being fully aware about what he actually means.

Lucas rolls his eyes, but I catch the sparkle in them. "Shut up, you know that's not what I meant."

"Well," I say, hand rising to my chest as my grin remains unfaltering, "just because you asked so nicely, of course I will."

It's easier doing this, especially when I pointedly choose not to think about any of my parents. Or my grandparents. Seeing as the visits—in mild terms— went to shit. Lucas' been treading around the entire thing lightly, too, neither of us really addressing it since that night.

Lucas is the first person I've ever cried in front of. 

Rising to my feet as Lucas' side gently bumps into mine, I think about the fact that I'd like to keep it that way. It scares the shit out of me that he's ever seen me so broken and fucking vulnerable. 

But there's a light smile that crosses his features, one that eases my fears. Just a little bit.

Side by side, we make our way out of the classroom and the school, shoulders brushing, Lucas' gentle humming filling the air, my eyes on him, flicking away once his land on me.