Bad Girl's Nerd

Chapter 51: Why Don't You Squeeze And Find Out?

Lia's POV:-

"Jane? I didn't know you'll be here?" I say nervously.

Sure ask a woman why she's at her own fucking house? That's not rude..

"Oh honey, I had a day off," she says totally cool, not taking offense. "You must be here for Luke, because he stormed into his room an hour ago and has locked himself up since then."

"Yeah, that's me," I say guiltily.

"Look you can go try coaxing him to open the door. I have to go grocery shopping... I hope you kids make up," she smiles sympathetically, and puts on her shoes and leaves. I stand for a second contemplating my next move.

"Oh fuck it," I mutter and go upstairs. I knock once. No response. I knock again. And again. After half hour of sitting in front of the door and knocking and calling Luke's name I get up. It was useless. I doubt if he's even in the room, because I heard nothing.

I was pouting at the closed door, walking back when I get knocked over a table. I loose my balance and cascade to the ground. The huge ceramic jar on the table felt pity for me, and gave me company, crashing down really loudly and scattering around me.

"Great, just flipping great," I mutter irritated. Like a miracle the door bursts open with a concerned looking Luke. "Mom?!"

Then he sees me and freezes in shock. He had headphones hanging around his neck. Even from ground, I could hear faint thumping music.

"Hi," I wave, giving a smile.

"Christ! Are you hurt?" he kneels down next to me. I shake my head, looking at him cautiously. "Get up," he takes my hand and helps me up. He turns me around looking for cuts, fortunately there weren't any. I had lost my power of speech, because I was freaking out.

I had first hurt this boy, then I had followed him to his house when he clearly wanted space and then I had destroyed this weird-ass jar, that could easily be something of ancestral importance. Why am I such a hot damn mess?

We were just standing side by side staring at the broken pieces. Luke had unconsciously put his hand around me. I felt very aware of the firm palm resting above my butt-crack. He sighs and makes me step further away from the pieces.

Then he goes downstairs. Not knowing what to do, I follow him. He goes into the kitchen and gets a broom and a dustpan. He ignores me as he moves around the house, getting a dustbin and then going back to the sight of crime.

"I'll do it-"

"No," he orders gently. "You'll get hurt. Stay back," he says kneeling down. My obdurate ass goes around him and helps him put the bigger pieces in the dustbin. He just clenches his jaw, and continues to carefully collect the smaller pieces and dust, into the dustpan. I hold out the dustbin for him to put the waste into it.

He goes down, to place the broom back in it's place, while I place the dustbin back. I go back upstairs to find him standing near the table I stupidly bumped into. He turns to me as he sees me coming. I make the mistake of making eye-contact, and stumble under his stare.

"Are you sure, you are okay? You didn't hurt your back?" he asks quietly as I come near.

"My back? You mean, did I hurt my ass?"

His lips falter for a second, and I think he was going to smile, but then he just nods blankly. I want to answer, "Why don't you squeeze and find out?" but I bite back my response and reply, "I'm fine."

"Alright then," he nods. He had removed his headphones. "Go home," he mutters going into his room and shutting the door. I wedge my foot in between to stop him.