Legacy

FIVE

Chapter Five: Nobody ever said I was sane.

D E L A N E Y

"Can I sit there?"

The girl that was staring out the wind turned her head. The airpods in her ears disappearing underneath her hair as it falls as a result of her movements. I could practically hear what she was listening to through them. Legacy's new song. Robbery.

Her eyes were wide for a split second, as if surprised I was asking her to the chair beside her anyway. This yellow tin can had only a few free seats, but all beside people and I wasn't going to the back of the bus to the only row of free seats.

I was about to repeat my question when I heard someone else get onto the bus. I turned my neck to see a figure dressed in all black. His head down and no sign of a backpack on his back.

The bus driver grumbled something about him always being late, but I didn't care for the words he spoke echoing off the walls of the bus as the boy lifted his head. His eyes meeting mine as he stood just a foot away from me.

A lazy smirk made its way onto his face and I blinked at him not expecting to see him here nor see him today at all. How is he not hungover?

My mind was filling with unanswered questions as Lucas took the step closer to me. His eyes flickered to the empty seat in front of me and shook his head. "You're not sitting there."

"Why not?" I was confused and slightly angered by his words. Why was he telling me I couldn't sit there?

"'Cause you're sitting with me, Angel."

There was no way for him to not notice the hitch of my breath at the nickname. It was something I was never going to get used to. His voice was exactly the same as the one that comforted me. As the person I thought I truly knew. Although, if I truly knew him, I would've gotten his name by now.

I never knew there was so much power in a name.

Lucas nodded towards the back of the bus and I glanced at the girl who I was going to sit beside to see her staring at Lucas. Her mouth was agape and eyes threatening to leave their sockets. I realise then that I can't sit beside her any longer.

"Sit down!" The bus drivers voice booms off the metal walls, loud and affirmative. It's an order and one I followed.

I walk down to the back of the bus and sit next to the window hoping that Lucas sits beside the other window. I hope he sits the other side of the bus. I hope he sits far away–

"Why do you look like I just killed your dog."

"Rocky would bite you," I mutter to him, a slight edge in my voice as he settled into the seat beside me. His long legs cramped uncomfortable in the small space we're given for leg room. He doesn't let his uncomfortableness show as he leans back into the chair. As he tilts his head and looks up at the roof.

"You know Angel, you're not very good at making friends."

Ouch.

"And you are?"

I defect his truth with a question. A pathetic attempt of hiding my self consciousness about the of friend making and the fact he was right. I was horrible at making friends and the only reason I met Ophelia was by pure luck. I'll be forever grateful for her.

Lucas sees right through me, but he's not even looking at me. He doesn't need to read my face nor search my eyes for reassurance that he is right. He knows he is. He made a statement.

I am bad at making friends.

"Everyone wants to be my friend. It's a skill I don't need to be good at. I don't need to make friends, but when I do," Luke turned to look at me, the smile on his face making my stomach drop and heart beat faster against my rib cage, "they don't tend to run away."