glue : michael clifford

chapter one

"Luke, don't you think it's a little early to start writing college essays?" I ask, watching him type away on his laptop. School just ended 10 days ago, and Luke was already in full-blast college mode.

"That doesn't seem like a very 'Genevieve' thing of you to say," he says, looking up and smiling. "I want to go to Yale with you and just want to make sure everything is perfect," he assures me while taking my hand and rubbing his thumb across the surface.

"Yeah, you're right," I reply, removing my hand from his grasp and opening up my laptop.

For twenty minutes I sat there - on Luke's bed in his room - picking the clear-coat off of my nails and frequently checking my phone for the time.

Eventually, Luke looks up from his laptop. "Is everything okay?" he asks, a look of concern on his face as he stares into my eyes. I suddenly look away, my cheeks glowing with embarrassment.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I chuckle staring at my laptop.

"You just look a bit...off," he says, pausing for a minute while I check the time. "Can I get you anything? An ibuprofen or maybe some water-"

"You know, I actually really have to get going," I say, packing my laptop into my bag. "Art class starts soon and my mom probably wants me to come home first."

"Oh, okay," Luke says, sounding somewhat hurt at my sudden rush to leave.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk over to Luke and give him a kiss.

"Will you come over later?" he asks after I pull away.

"I can't. Have to finish my painting by Sunday." I lie. Technically I haven't even started a new painting or gave myself a deadline for it yet.

"Okay. Bye babe," he calls out as I walk out of his room, closing the door behind me.

I leave Luke's house, and get into my car. I sit down in the driver's seat and sigh, placing my head in my hands.

After a few minutes, I pick up my head from my hands. I turn on the radio, crank the volume up obnoxiously loud, and drive away from Luke's house, temporarily forgetting about my worries.