"I swear to god, mum," he started defending himself, "it was Ben's idea!" he said, pinning the blame on his older brother. Liz put down the dish she was scrubbing and turned around to Luke, wiping her disappointed face. She stood in silence while watching her young son crumble, "Mum," he crackled.
She shook her head, "I can't trust you anymore, Luke." He started crying. Liz gravitated toward him, lifting his chin with her hand. He looked into her eyes with his wet baby blues, "Listen here, I still love you. You're still my boy. But you've screwed up this time, Luke. I can't have you keep doing this to yourself, to this family." He nodded, "I promised it'd be the last time. You know I don't break promises," he said, wiping a tear from his own cheek. She smiled down at him sympathetically, "A promise doesn't fix what you've done."
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Luke boarded the bus, waving goodbye to his mum and dad, his brothers already at school. Liz was crying, Andy holding her hand so tightly, his knuckles were white. Luke shuffled to the backside of the bus and sat alone. His carry-on sitting next to him, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and plugged his earbuds into them. He scrolled through his music a bit before deciding on Here's Your Letter by Blink-182. He turned it almost all the way up, completely blocking out the rest of the occupants of the bus.
After around an hour on the old white bus, Luke let his eyes wander. He looked at the other adolescent passengers. There were two guys making out in the seat in front of him. Another was watching. His hair was dark blue and really dirty. Luke scrunched his pixie nose at the sight. In the front, there was a group of boys, probably all under the age of twelve, throwing paper wads and portfolios at one another. Although his earbuds impaired his hearing, he could see the bus driver yelling at them.
He shifted in his seat, taking out his left earbud. He swung out of his seat and into the one behind the boy with greasy blue hair, "Hey," he said. The boy looked at him with an annoyed expression, "What?"
"We're all going to the same place, right?" Luke asked. "Yeah, I think."
"Well I'm Luke," He said with a smile. "Nice," the greasy boy said. Luke waited for his name, but he just turned his attention back to the couple of lads making out across the way. Luke pointed at them, "Who're they?" The boy looked at Luke, annoyed, "Okay, mate, are you looking for friends or did your phone die? You looking for someone to buy pot from? Because I don't have any. Can't get busted again."
"I don't want your pot. I just figured if we're going to be at this place for nine months we might as well find a person or two to make it bearable," Luke said. Suddenly, the greasy boy backed away, "Are you hitting on me?" he asked.
Luke was confused, then he realized what the boy meant. They were about to be at a boys' school for nine months. Luke seemed interested in the names of the two boys sucking faces, "God, no," Luke spat, "Just tell me your name. I was just looking for your name."
"Michael," the boy said.
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Luke thought about this time in his life more often than he realized. It was his lowest point; he still blamed Ben for it, though he knew it was up to him. He turned over to the other side of his bed, sighing loudly.
He needed a shower. He hadn't taken one in two days; he'd barely left his bed. He hadn't eaten much more than a piece of pizza Michael practically forced down his throat. He decided he'd drop by his childhood home to see his mum.
Hopping out of bed, he grabbed some clean underwear and his phone, treading off to the bathroom. He plugged his phone into the speakers Calum and Brooklyn had used just a few days before. He clicked When You Were Young by The Killers. He undressed and climbed into the shower.
Rather than beginning to wash himself, he just stood under the hot water, listening to the song on repeat. He let the water wash over him, causing him to close his eyes and hold his breath. He turned away from the water as it trickled down the rest of his body. He breathed heavily as he started crying, not even noticing.
"I'm not that boy anymore. I'm not that boy anymore. I'm not that boy anymore," he continued to repeat between sobs, "I deserve to be happy. I'm not that boy anymore."
He turned the water off, "Maybe I'll get around to seeing her some other day," he thought before returning to his bed.
