Check out my new Treacherous-inspired story Beneath the Skyline! Vote, comment, and share :) (2017)

:: 8 :: FRI, February 28, 2014

LUKE stopped in front of the hooded figure. I tried to see who it was but I only reached up to his shoulders and failed to see anything.

"What are you doing here?" Luke asked, patting his arm. The guy took off his hood and revealed his newly dyed dark brown hair. It was Michael. He ran his fingers through his hair then fixed it. "I wanted to talk to you." He said, almost whispering as he glaced at me.

"Hey, Michael." I peeked from Luke's shoulder. "I like your new hair." He shivered slightly and muttered under his breath a quick "thanks".

"Can I talk to you, Luke?" Quivering his lips and stomping his feet, he grabbed Luke by the wrist.

"What is it? Can't you tell me now?" Luke urged as he pulled his hand away from his grip. Michael kept eyeing me and hurriedly looking away before I could part my lips to react.

I knew for a fact Michael didn't like me. I could tell by how he tried his hardest to ignore my existence. Ever since I met him last Friday, he avoided all sorts of interactions.

"Please just come with me." He begged. His legs started to shake almost like he was about to drop on the floor and bow down to Luke. I stepped back and motioned that I can leave them alone but Luke gripped on my wrist. He turned around and whispered, "No, stay."

I sighed and relaxed my shoulders. He still hadn't let go of my wrist and he seemed too occupied to notice. I tried distracting myself because I was sure Michael would've hated me more if I eavesdropped on their conversation. However, I couldn't help it because Michael started screaming.

"This is really important!" He threw his hands in the air, grabbing the passerbys' attentions. "Why can't you leave your little friend? Last time I checked, we were best buds!"

Luke covered his face with his free hand as if he couldn't believe they were having this huge argument right now. "Michael, can we discuss this later? I'll go by your apartment." Rationalizing things to calm him down.

I honestly didn't know what else to do but just stand here, avoiding everyone's stares. Luke finally let me go and I left without even telling them. They didn't even seem to notice. They just continued raising their voices over one another's. I found myself sitting on the bench in front of the water fountain. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I texted Ashton and told him to pick me up since I don't think Luke and Michael would be done anytime sooner.

From: Ashton

Pick you up in 10. Btw Hemingway can't take you home? ;)

I wasn't in any mood to reply so I tucked my phone back in my pocket. Moments later I found a shadow casted in front of my shoes. "Michael's kinda tensed up lately." Luke groaned as he took his seat beside me. Cupping his face with his hands while he rested his elbows on his thighs.

"I could tell. Is everything alright?" He nodded then shook his head then nodded again. "I don't even know anymore. He's been acting strange lately."

"Did he ever tell you what he wanted to tell you?" I asked him, looking up. He started playing with his lip ring, a habit I've noticed lately whenever he gets nervous.

"Kind of--not really. He sort of stormed off. I didn't really catch anything he said." I could tell Michael and him have been practically brothers for a very long time. The fact he's fretting about this so much meant something was wrong and Luke really cared about Michael and the situation.

"You should go and talk to him later. He'll need you." I suggested. That's all I could really do. Suggest and suggest. It's something I was told I'm good at in my three years of high school. I was always the listener and not the speaker. I was usually the one being told the problems and not the other way around.

Luke relentlessly pushed his piercing with his tongue as he tapped his feet. He stood up and started pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair in the process. "Do you need to get home immediately after your shift ended?" He stopped walking and pulled me up.

"Not really but I asked my brother to pick me up." I answered as he let go of my hands. He stared at his sneakers, looking so disappointed. How could I leave him at this state? "But I could cancel on him. He probably hasn't left the house yet."

And I was right. When I called him, I could hear the loud football commentator playing on TV in the background. I told him I would be taking the bus home and he tried debating but he rested his case and I won.

"What's up?" I asked Luke. He dragged me to a 2007 Silver Camry outside and pulled out his keys, unlocking the car. He opened the door to the passenger's seat and escorted me in. He got in the driver's seat and started it. It smelled like cheeseburgers mixed with the scent of coffee and cheap pinecone freshner lingering in the air. The backseat was covered with clothes scattered everywhere and mountains of books. Lots and lots of books.

"I'm sorry. This is my second home." He smiled at me. I didn't know he had a car because he seemed to walk everywhere. I think this was the reason why I never saw him drove. His car was messier than my room and my room was Kansas after the tornado.

"First home's the funeral building?" I joked around, buckling my seatbelt.

"And, or my house." He winked before he buckled his own belt and drove.

"Where are we going?" I turned to him and saw his eyes peaking from behind his sunglasses. "The sun hurts my eyes when I drive."

"Luke," I laughed. "The sun set an hour ago. There is no sun." It was already dark outside and the only source of light was coming from the buildings and cars.

He stared at me, his glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. "Don't kill my vibe."

"You should stick to the proverbs, Luke. Ghetto doesn't really suit you." I shook my head. He pushed his glasses and kept his eyes on the road. Smiling widely as he drove around.

We've been on the road for fifteen minutes already and I still haven't stopped staring at Luke. I watched him as he drove, how he blows up his cheeks when he makes a turn and how he raise his eyebrows when he would start talking.

"Are we friends, Jay?" He suddenly asked. I snapped out of my spell and scoffed, "What do you mean?"

"Are we friends?" He repeated, not even bothering to paraphrase it.

"Uh-huh." Nodding, "Yes, Luke Hemmings. I believe we are."

"That's good to know." He grinned, I saw the corner of his eyes creasing under his glasses.

It's weird. Being friends wasn't a statement needing words of clarifications. Even weirder thinking Luke Hemmings--out of all people should know.

"Why did you ask?" I spun to the window and noticed a faint silhoutte of a corner house, slightly bigger than ours. It was easy to miss despite of the size because the whole street was dim. There was probably just one street light on.

"My mom doesn't want me bringing strangers home." He answered, pulling over.

-

"Why am I meeting your mom?" I falteringly followed him to their front porch. There was a wooden swing on the side and like five flower pots on each end of the porch. Luke lived in the suburban part of Queens, where all the snobby private school kids were. However as far as I know, Luke went to a public school in Manhattan. Besides, he doesn't even look like one of those kind of kids.

"I honestly don't know." He scratched the back of his head as he bustled for his keys in his pocket. Pushing the door open, we were surprised by a trail of what looked like uncooked pasta. The scent of burning food and gas stove dawdled in the air. As soon as Luke smelled it, he dropped his keys on the wooden flooring and ran towards the kitchen.

I was about to follow him when another voice called out. "Andrew? Is that you?" My head turned to the direction of what looked like the living room. It was too dark to see who it was because the only source of light was coming from the kitchen. I didn't hear footsteps but I did feel someone or something coming towards me.

Searching for the light switch on the wall, I turned it on and there revealed an old lady with cropped white hair and blue eyes. Blue eyes so similar to Luke's. She put on an olive green nightgown and fuzzy socks. She stared at me with a puzzled face, her pale and wrinkled skin looking duller.

"Andrew?" She repeated as she rolled her wheelchair closer to me. I couldn't help but slowly back away. "I'm not Andrew." Before I could process who she was referring to, Luke walked in and turned on more lights.

"Grandma," He hovered to the old lady in wheelchair and knelt down. "Andrew--Dad has been gone for eleven years." I could hear the shakiness in his voice as he rubbed the back of his grandma's hand.

"Who are you?" She shook him off. "And what do you mean he's gone? He was fourteen when I left for America. He was just playing checkers. I remember his words--'I'll see you later.' I never came back."

Luke's back was facing against me but I saw his Grandma's face, so confused and disoriented. Incredulity was plastered across her face. "No, Grandma. I'm Luke, your grandson. Dad died eleven years ago." He stuttered, "You heard me? He's gone." He spoke as if he's rehearsed this very moment over and over again.

"You're lying! He's just fourteen! I didn't come back for him. I never came back for him!" Her hoarse voice echoed throughout the empty house.

"Grandma, he was forty when he died. He wasn't a kid anymore. He had a family. He married Liz and had me and Jack." He shook her. I knew Luke was tearing up. I didn't need to see it for myself. Feeling tears fall from my own eyes, I was sobbing myself.

They continued arguing until Luke asked me to bring her to her room, through the living room and a hallway behind the staircase. I helped Luke change her into a cleaner nightgown before we tucked her in. She fought back until she got tired. We didn't talk at all and I didn't bother to start a conversation.

Following Luke to the kitchen, the scent of burnt spaghetti grew stronger. In the kitchen, a lady a little shorter than I was with blonde curls was resting her back on the stove. With her one hand cupped on her mouth and another on a pair of thongs, she saw us. By instinct, she let go of the thongs and ran to hug Luke.

"I tried cooking spaghetti for you tonight." She whispered, sobbing. "I really did. I'm sorry it got burnt a little."

"Mom, it's okay. We talked about this just minutes ago already right?" He assured her. I just realized this was the first time I ever met his mom and it wasn't the best first encounter.

"I was cooking but then I heard your Grandma having a fit in her room so I let her stay in the living room." She said, "She started screaming your father's name and other blasphemous claims so I had to go and calm her down but I forgot about the spaghetti then it burnt."

Luke nodded his head after every word she let out almost like they've been through this a million times already. "You're repeating yourself again, Mom." He forced himself to laugh.

"I'm so sorry." She coughed, "Silly me."

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten already?" She asked, shuffling back to the stove as she wiped her tears off with her sleeves.

"Yes," He lied. I knew for a fact he hasn't yet. I've been with him for the past four hours and the only thing he'd eaten was a giant cookie and that was two hours ago.

"Who's this with you, Luke?" She pointed at me, drying her eyes.

"Oh," Luke almost forgot I was standing right beside him. He rubbed my back slowly and introduced me, "She's Jaylene Irwin but she prefers to be called Jay."

I shuffled forward and put a hand out but she pulled me into a tight hug. "She's beautiful, Luke. You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend." I chuckled softly and shook my head.

"No, Mom!" He exclaimed, "She's my friend."

Her mom let go, "They all say that." She yelped. "But I'm sorry, Jane."

"It's Jay but it's fine." I waved my hands in the air, "It's nice meeting you Mrs. Hemmings."

"Are you hungry, Jay?" She returned to the stove and cleared out the waster pasta. "And call me Liz."

"No, Liz. I ate with Luke." I went along with his lie. I didn't want to cause his mom any more problems. She looked like she had a tiresome day. I turned to Luke who started pacing back and forth again, rubbing the back of his head. I cleared my throat and the minute I did, Luke pulled me from the kitchen and dragged me upstairs and through a door leading to what looked to be his room.

Royal blue walls covered the room and beige carpeting on the floor. He had a double-size bed right smack in the middle, pushed against the wall where a door led to his bathroom. Across his bed was a couch next to a study table. His room was twice the size of mine and definitely more organized than mine. On the side where his window was, there were endless shelves of thousands of books and on the other side was a wall of vinyl records of band albums framed nicely. I could name a couple, mostly from Ashton's own iPod playlist.

He shut the door behind him and just plopped himself on the floor, pulling his legs close to him as he laid his back on the door. I sighed while I did the same thing and sat next to him.

"I shouldn't have brought you here." He blurted. I met his eyes and they were so dry as if he was trying his hardest to keep them that way.

"It's alright." I assured him.

"I just thought today would be a good day, you know?"

I didn't answer, not so sure where he was coming from. It was dead air for five minutes. Nothing but the echoing call of his grandma who repetitively yelled "Andrew!" over and over again.

"My grandmother left my Dad and my grandfather in Australia when he was fourteen. She and my grandpa had a whole argument about finances that led to my grandma leaving for America to find a job that paid more. She didn't have the guts to tell my Dad. He only found out after she had left. 26 years without his mother by his side. They had zero contact and everytime he would ask about her, my grandpa would hit him with his belt." Luke told me.

"Basically he worked his ass in school so he could get a job in the States and look for my grandma. It took him until he was 24 to get here and settled, when grandpa passed away. Here was where he met Mom and had me and my brother." He paused to catch his breath. "When they had me and my brother, he'd given up on his search for my grandma but he had one thought in his head. He promised to never leave us the way his mother had left him."

"He broke that promise." He scoffed. "He was no different than my grandma. They both left so suddenly." I entwined my fingers with his, searching comfort in his eyes which were darted straight at the slightly opened window. Uninvited air entered through it, making us shiver a little.

"There were worse days," He began. "One time I came home and my Mom's crawled into a corner while my Grandma was on the floor, throwing everything she could reach as she called out my Dad's name and said things that were unimaginable."

Despite of all of what had happened, Luke hadn't let out a single tear fall.

"My Mom is a strong woman but just not the best person to handle pressure concerning my Grandma. I think it was when she said something to her and ever since she doesn't even bother anymore. She just falls apart as if it traumatized her." He said.

I continued playing with his finger, realizing it was calming him down. "Have you ever asked her about it?" He shook his head, "She ignores it whenever I bring it up."

"I'm trying to be strong for them because they're all I have left. My Mom disowned my brother when we found out he got his girlfriend pregnant and ran away with her." He paused, "I'm all they have left."

"I think you are strong. There's so much pressure on your shoulders. I can't believe you're still able to get up and walk." It was true. I admired Luke so much for what he had already told me. For the short time we've known each other, he had shown nothing more than kindness and sincerity towards me. On the other hand, there's me. Helpless and unable to return the favor to him.

Surprisingly, he rested his head on my shoulder. "It's not like I had a choice." He cackled. I felt his breath tickling the skin under my jacket. We stayed like this until I spoke up. "You said you didn't know why you liked hanging around the funeral building."

"I did," He nestled his head in the area where my collarbone was. The whole situation was casual and comfortable, nothing more.

"Is it because you just want to find a getaway from all of this?" I motioned my hands in the air. He lifted his head and sighed as he rested it against the door. "Do you ever just want to escape reality and just live a life of oblivion?"

"Tell me about it," I answered, rolling my eyes.

"Sometimes I wish I could wake up with amnesia," He paused. "--and forget about the stupid little things." Groaning, he pushed himself up and slumped himself across his bed, burying his head under the pillows and flipping himself over.

"I want to wake up with the feeling of nirvana.

I want to forget what it's like to jam your toe to the leg of the table.

I want to forget what it's like to experience your first heartbreak.

I want to forget what it's like to fail your first exam.

I want to forget what it's like to cry until your head hurts."

He stared at the ceiling and I still haven't moved from my spot. From my angle, I could see him smiling to himself.

"You know what I want to do?" He turned himself so now he was upside down. I crawled and kneeled to the end of his bed and cozied my elbows on his footboard, tucking my fists under my chin. Tilting his head so he could see me better, he continued "I want to cry. We should cry."

"What?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"We should cry until our stomach hurts." He smiled cheekily.

"I don't think that's possible." I shook my head.

"That's the point," He rubbed his eyes even though his eyes were as dry as they can ever be. "I want to cry until the impossible's made possible." I waited for him to do it. I waited for tears to fall but nothing came. "Why am I not crying? I don't get it."

"Not everything you want, you can get." I tried joking.

He sat up on his bed and I pushed myself so I could get on his bed. I sat crosslegged on the opposite end. "I feel stupid."

"Being stupid doesn't have to be a bad thing." I felt like his mother as I scolded him.

"I had a whole idea set in my mind of how tonight was meant to happen." He sighed, rubbing his temples with his fore finger and thumb. "I planned on getting you to do my break homework."

"I haven't even done the homework I missed last week." I slapped his leg. "Wait, you were kidding right?"

"Of course I was. I was gonna show you I have a life outside the funeral building and daycare center." He straightened himself, seemingly proud of his plan.

"And that is?"

He parted his lips but nothing came out. He tried speaking again and ended up saying, "I don't know. Believe me when I said I have no reason for bringing you here. I guess the whole Michael situation just overwhelmed me and you just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

Funny. It's not the first time I've been