Faking Me - l.h. AU

Chapter Ten

"I have a lunch table."

"I still fail to see the issue, Z"

Luke and I were sitting in his car in front of my apartment building, the engine cut off while I had a small mental breakdown after school.

"You fail to see the issue?!" I threw back at him, rising my voice. He knew I wasn't yelling at him but next to him. "The issue is exactly that! Three years, Luke! Three years without a "group", without a constant amount of friends. And now? A fucking lunch table."

You could trace down the start of my metal instability to the first time Michael Clifford sat on -fucking hell- our table. Luke looked like he was about to shit his pants from happiness while I was a personality mess.

My Luke-me (the closest to the real me anyone in school has) and the Rest Of The Population-me were in a thight fight.

Each time I had a fake smile or fake laughed I could see the recognition in Luke's eyes. But I just couldn't be normal next of Michael. He already "knew" a me, I just couldn't change that now. I have a way of doing things, goddamn.

The worst part: I had to go through all that the whole week.

I felt the shift in the way people saw me and it scared the shit out of me.

"Wait, wait, Zelda, breath a bit," I did as he said, taking deep breath, while Luke rubbed my arm. "What if that changes now? It's your senior year, why is it bad that you have friends? Who gives shit?"

"I just-" I began to say before cutting myself. How could I explain why it was so hard for me to open up without, well, opening up? "I- I gotta go. Sorry."

In this flight or fight predicament my best way out was fleeing. Always fleeing. Except when some blue eyed asshole cages you.

I felt the grip on my arm when I had the door already open. "Um- Wait, Zelda." Luke said, letting me go when he realized I wasn't going anywhere yet. "Do... um, do you mind if we hang out for a while?"

My eyes shot to his face. That was confusing. There was something in his expression, in his eyes, that told me this wasn't just because he wanted to "hang out". Some desperation laced his voice and embarrassment appeared in his body language.

Hang out for a while? No. Hell no. I already have a goddamn lunch table, I don't need to get attached to someone "hanging out". Fuck that.

"Luke, I'm so-... sure, yeah, come up." I found myself saying. I just gave Luke consent to go in my apartment again? AGAIN? Right after the hole hell no thing? The relieve sigh that came out of Luke pulled me out of my mental beat up.

"Thanks, Z"

Oh, it's nothing.

Fuck me.

I wished getting to my apartment was easier.

"What the fuck are you wearing, Steve?"

He was behind his desk as usual, yeah, but the sight we encountered when we crossed the complex door had nothing normal.

Steve was sitting on his chair, legs laying on top of the desk, wearing one of the worst outfits I've had the terrible luck to see. His pants were at least five sizes bigger, hanging loose everywhere, and choosing to pair that with an even bigger t-shirt. He also had a sideways snapback.

A. Sideways. Snapback.

Oh, and a gold chain.

"Oh, this? A new style I'm trying," He smiled proudly, confirming how lost his mind was. "I'm going for a Jesse Pinkman, ya know."