flipped // luke hemmings

8

thinking of all the possibilities luke could've replied with, i was an unstable mess.

what if he was only talking to me yesterday because he was nice? what if he belongs in a mental hospital?

why was he talking about the fans yesterday? what fans? what the actual fuck.

i'm confused and convinced i'll be having an anxiety attack in the next five minutes.

i texted him nearly a half hour ago. what teenager doesn't constantly check their phone every, like, 10 minutes?

what could he be doing?

then, i saw that he read the text.

20 minutes ago.

that bitch. i knew he didn't care.

he knew my name. i was sure of it.

i flopped down on the bed.

abby went to taco bell to pick up a meal for me (that could serve ten) because i'm an anxious eater.

and at the moment, i was terribly anxious.

i'm a hot mess. i've been killing myself over this boy when i shouldn't be giving a shit about him.

i've never given a shit about boys, why do i suddenly care?

i wiped all of the luke shit out of my mind.

this is my life, i decide what to fill my head with.

at this point, i realized it was 3 in the afternoon on a saturday, and i was still in my pajamas.

pull yourself together, erica.

i got dressed and texted abby.

we're getting wrecked tonight. ;)

abby knew exactly what i meant, we were best friends, afterall.

i met her at the mall taco bell, and bought a 12 pack of cinnabon delights.

why should i give a single solitary fuck about this boy?

if he doesn't have the balls to text me back, i shouldn't care at all.

i spent what felt like half of my life earnings at the mall.

i don't need a guy to make me feel good about myself. i am a mother fucking independent woman, and i don't need no man.

i was gonna feel good about myself tonight, that's why abby and i were going to the best club in los angeles tonight.

i was probably gonna lose my mind, but who has a fuck to give?

not me, that's who.