this time||lrh

chapter three

Hey guys. This chapter is dedicated to my bestie, @ProcrastinatorDevon

I luh you biiiich. I ain't gone never stop luhvin you...biiiiiich. Haha, if you know that Vine, you're obviously muke af. Okay bye. Enjoy this chapter.

*************

It was dark when I got back to Luke's house. I didn't feel like facing him, knowing that I had hurt him so badly. I'd been so selfish, leaving and not even saying a proper goodbye to him.

When I stepped inside, all of the lights were off, but the glow of the TV illuminated the living room. Voices from a late night sitcom were softly speaking. A Luke-shaped lump was curled up on the sofa, covered in a cheap black blanket. No way was he warm in that. So I went down the hallway and came back with a heavier and softer blanket. I tried my best to walk quietly and deliberately, but I guess it didn't work. When I returned to the living room, Luke was sitting up straight, running his hands through his hair and mumbling.

"What is wrong with you?" he said. He couldn't be talking to me, could he? "You love her, you idiot. Stop screwing up your life!"

Wait a second. He loves who?

His words were running together, a sure sign that he was drunk. Not to mention the bottles of beer spread across the coffee table.

"You're getting married in six months, Luke," he said to himself.

My mouth went dry. That sounded awfully familiar.

We're getting married in the spring. Six months.

What? It couldn't be true. Luke wouldn't do that. He wouldn't stoop that low. He would not fall for Felicity.

She was the girl who had made our high school lives a living hell. The one that nick-named him Lanky Luke because he was clumsy and would always look weird during mandatory gym class. She was the one that told everyone that I was gay, even though I had obviously dated Calum. She was the person that made me hate life. I hated Felicity. I hated her so much that it started to physically hurt. My eyes burned with hot tears, a feeling I had never gotten before. These were angry tears.

I made an involuntary noise that somehow escaped from my throat. It was somewhere between a growl and a puking noise, but it got Luke's attention. His eyes were glassy, but I could tell that he knew I had heard him. I knew it all. And for the first time, he was the one that felt he had hurt me.

"Alison," he said shakily. But I quickly shook my head and stumbled backwards, dropping the blanket.

"No, don't," I said, but it didn't come out angrily. It sounded more of a pleading tone. If he even saw me cry, I knew I would crumble. No one could ever see me be weak. Ever.

He got off of the couch, tilting a little bit before regaining his balance. "I can explain everything, Ali," he said. He took one more step and then I knew he saw the look of disappointment on my face, the betrayal and pain.

"I said no."

And with that I stumbled backwards again, then turned to rush to the room. I slammed the door shut and threw myself on the bed like a five year old throwing a tantrum. Luke was smart enough not to follow me.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself be weak. I let myself cry. Of all the years I had taken my tears and replaced them with hate and sarcastic phrases, I finally let those feelings come out in their true form. Tears.

*************

I woke up with a pounding headache. But this wasn't like a headache from a hangover. This was probably ten times worse. My throat was burning and I felt sluggish, like I was paralyzed. After forcing myself out of the bed, I went to the bathroom to get washed up. My eyes were bloodshot. I could already tell that I'd need to pile on the concealer. I also tried to force myself not to think about the event of last night. Bile rose in my throat, but I pushed it back down. No one would see me this way.

*************

"Ali, why can't we talk?" Luke said in an exhausted tone. He had, maybe ten minutes earlier, laid a steaming cup of coffee in front of me on the kitchen table. Now it was cold and useless. This whole time, I had been silent.

I ignored his pleading gaze and started picking at my already chipped nail polish. "There's absolutely nothing we need to talk about."

"That's a straight up lie," he added quickly. "I just want you to talk to—"

"You kept it a secret," I interrupted. He didn't say anything, so I knew I had room to get this off of my chest. "After everything she did to us, Luke. To all of us, not just me. You remember that time we totally trashed her front lawn and then ran off? What happened to that? Is that just thrown under the rug now?"

He rolled his eyes, something he would never do when it came to a serious topic like this. "People have changed after high school, Alison." He then gives me a pointed look and jabs his finger at me. "But I guess you haven't. You can't just let it go, can you?"

"She hasn't changed!" I yelled, laying my palms flat on the table. As long as I had contact with something stable, I wouldn't become weak. I wouldn't cry. I couldn't cry in front of him, even if he was my best friend. "I saw her yesterday in the park, and she totally acted like I was a homeless freak walking up to her."

"She just looks closely at things." By this time, I was ready to lose it. "It's a part of her OCD."

"Oh, so you're making excuses for her now?" I asked sharply. "Don't you remember all of the crap she used to do to us? Do you not remember when her and her friends cornered you at school and her boyfriend almost beat you to death?" My voice felt strangled, but the sound was very prominent and loud and angry. "And do you remember what you were going to do to yourself that day? I had to bust down your door that day before you could pull that trigger." He recoiled and didn't seem as angry. "And do you remember how I kept it a secret? How I'm the only person in the entire world who knows?"

"I need to get out for a while," he said. He shuffled to the front door, shrugging on his jacket.

"Yeah, just run away Luke, because that always works."

He suddenly turned to me and his eyes were a dark, stormy blue. "You're the last person to talk, Alison." My name sounded bitter when he said it.