Brighter Places [🗸]

24. spring rolls are superior

***

Having Lucas Garcia stay over at my place is weird as fuck.

Somehow, it doesn't get any less weird as fuck despite the fact that he's been staying over for the past few days.

I don't think I'm going to ever get used to it, seeing him wander around the gaping halls, his bright eyes scouting the area, or laying down on the lawn, phone raised to the air as he adds Celia Cruz or Selena to one of my playlists, lips pursed.

He's not ready to talk to his parents after the shit that went down the other day, so he's been staying here for the past few days, and will be until he's ready. And given that we haven't exactly broached on the subject since the whole blow-up, I'm not sure when he'll be ready.

As expected, Ms. Willis just ignores Lucas in passing the few times they cross paths. If she's feeling generous, she might send him a tight-lipped grin before grabbing a martini and disappearing into the house.

Now, Lucas is supposed to be staying in one of the guest rooms, but he normally ends up spending the night at my room, something that I have no complaints about whatsoever. He usually slides into the place at about six, grin wide and a blanket drowning him.

Like now.

He's seated in my spinny chair, lips pursed and eyes glazed over as he spins from side to side. A steady hum travels through the room and Lucas brings his bottom lip beneath his teeth.

He's lost in thought, and I tilt my head from where I'm seated on my bed, eyes blinking slowly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he says. Which is a lie, and it doesn't take a lot for me to tell, given that Lucas Garcia has always been and still is terrible at lying.

My eyebrows fly upwards. "Try again."

"Don't worry about it." Lucas says, still spinning, eyes still vacant and someplace else.

There's a few moments of quiet, and I watch him carefully. 

As though he can feel my inquisitive and steel-like gaze on him, he lets out a breath. "Shut up."

My lips quirk upwards as I raise both of my hands in defense. "I didn't say a word."

"Yeah, but I could feel you silently grilling me." He says in return, lips pursed as a grin appears on his lips.

"Lucas," I sing, and he rolls his eyes, letting out a laugh before his expression morphs into something far more serious.

"Okay, look," he says, running a hand through his hair. "I was thinking about your grandma."

"That's disgusting," I say, blankly.

"Jason, what the hell?" Lucas says, shaking his head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Why are you like this?"