Becoming Kennedy

8- Bleachers

I hear my alarm buzzing, but make no move to silence it. I lie in bed, trying to process all that happened the night before. My head is all fuzzy, and I can't get Luke out of my mind.

Whenever I think about it, my skin prickles. His touch set me on fire. And if I'm honest, last night, I was wishing a fire would swallow me whole. As far as embarrassing moments go? This one is definitely at the top.

The piercing sound of my alarm finally rouses me from my bed. I groggily go through my morning routine, trying to come up with a fantastic lie to tell the girls. My mom's voice floats from downstairs, telling me to get a move on.

I just go through the motions during breakfast, get into my little Honda, and drive myself to school. For every mile closer I get to the school, another knot gets twisted into my gut.

I hate lying, but that's what I've become. I'm one big lie.

I'm not even out of my car for three seconds, and Abigail is by my side, flanked by Stella and Becky. I start to ask where Parsley is, but decide against it as I'm bombarded by a million questions.

"Was it good?""Was he totally into you?""Where did you go? We couldn't find you, oh em gee, did he take you to a hotel?!""He DID take you to a hotel!!!"

I'm hearing them, but the words are literally just ricocheting off the sides of my brain. I actually have to physically hold my head.

"Guys, I need a moment to myself. I'm exhausted, and I really don't have time for this right now. I don't want to be late." Stella examines my face, and mumbles to the girls, "I guess he was good if she's this tired."

Her words set of a series of painfully clear pictures of last night's events fluttering in my brain, like a horror film I don't want to watch. Slamming my locker shut, I push past them to my first class.

Sitting in class, I sigh. Why did I even come today? I'm not hearing anything. All I can hear is Luke's voice, cold, and condescending: "Goodbye, Kennedy."

You'd think that I'd be relieved I wouldn't have to see him again. I mean, I thought I'd be relieved. But I'm not. I'm so scared. I'm scared that he's going to tell Abigail and the girls, and I'm going to lose the closest thing I have to friends in this stupid town.

But most of all, I'm scared I'll never see him again. I liked him. I know it sounds stupid, and totally cliche, but under different circumstances, I think we could've been friends. Maybe more?

Michael didn't lie when he said their band was good. Sitting on the abandoned bleachers during lunch break, I sit listening to 5 Seconds of Summer's album. I like it.

My imaginary music video to 'Voodoo Doll' is interrupted when a voice calls my name. I abruptly stop my air-drumming, and look up to see blue eyes staring at me.

"Fuck." I hastily lock my phone screen, and choke out, "Hi."

Oh God, Kennedy. You're a genious. Unparallelled eloquence.

The icy blue eyes move from my face to my phone, "Whatcha listening to?" As Luke moves to sit next to me, I chew on my lip. I really need to stop doing that. It's a bad habit.

"Um, well, you- uh, said you had a band, and I said I'd, um- check it out, so...I am." Again with the eloquence. I'm amazing.

"Voodoo Doll?" Luke stares at his hands, and I nod. He laughs softly to himself, "I can relate." I think that was supposed to be an indirect insult at me, but I'm too busy trying to figure out what the fuck he's doing here to really care.

"I don't really know why I'm here." Yeah. Me either. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you got home okay." He still sounds pissed off, so I can't imagine that's really why he's here. "I know you're new here, so I wasn't sure if you knew your way around or not." A small smirk plays at the edges of my mouth, "Well, I don't, but the cab driver does."

Luke doesn't say anything, and I shrug, "Thanks for checking on me, I guess." Luke stands up, and shoves his hands in his pockets, "I'll see you then." He turns to walk away, and I begin to put my earbuds back in.

"Oh." I look up, and suddenly he's walking back towards me. My heart stutters, as he watches my face. I hate when he does that. It's like he's staring into my soul. It's like he can see Kennedy. Not California Kennedy, but Colorado Kennedy.

"I don't have your number." I sit there, staring at him numbly. "Why do you want my number? It's not like we're going to be seeing each other." The words are out of my mouth, and it takes a second for it to register that I've literally 'spoken my mind'. I wonder if he still likes that quality in me.

"Uh, yes we are? You don't want your little friends to know you're a virgin. You don't want them to know we never hooked up, right?" The way he says 'virgin' makes me feel like a child, but I push my pride aside, and nod, "Yeah. I guess." Luke nods as if he's scolding a child, "So give me your number. We have to make this look believable." He smirks, "It shouldn't be hard. Abigail and the rest aren't that smart."

This time I do laugh. He's right.

He hands me his phone, and I quickly type in my contact information. It feels so wrong. So many lies. I can barely see the truth anymore.

I finally look him in the eyes, "Thank you for doing this. I'm really sorry. You shouldn't have to do this for me." Luke takes back his phone, and locks his eyes with mine, "Well, as long as we're talking about things people shouldn't be doing..."

I cringe, this isn't going to be good.

"You shouldn't have to feel like you have to lie about who you are to make friends." Oops. There it is. I fiddle with my headphones, "I know." Luke playfully taps my knee, and I look at him, "But you also shouldn't be lied to, and be expected to have sex with someone you don't know."

Luke looks towards the school, and then at the time, "You should go. I'll text you later." I gather my things before standing up, and facing him, "How did you get here?" He raises his eyebrow, "I drove?" I roll my eyes. I swear to God, he's trying to antagonize me. "Obviously, but how did you know where I went to school?"Luke's lips pull into an amused smile, "You go to school with Abigail. Michael talks to Abigail on the regular. I asked Michael, he told me, and voila, here I am." Before I have time to comment, he turns and walks back to wherever he came from.

I swear, if I were an emoji, I'd be that stupid heart-eyes one.

Before I begin my walk back to the school, I look up at the sky. "Why is this happening to me?" I don't know if I was expecting lightning to strike me down, and relieve me of the misery that is my life, or for some higher being to give me some insight, but neither happens.

Typical.