borderline / muke

two

luke

His hair was the color of a fire engine. His eyes were bright and green, like I was staring directly into the forest on a clear day. He had a ring stuck through his eyebrow and ink covering his skin. He had a loud presence, much like his voice. Loud, but beautiful.

My fingers were stull paused on the money in my wallet. I was not familiar with strangers attempting to make conversation with me. But as this Michael boy attracted all attention towards me once again, I felt it was time to start.

"Um, hello," I greeted slowly, pulling my hand away from my wallet and setting it on the table next to me.

Michael gave me a bright smile, beginning to take off his jacket. "Hi there. May I know my fake date's name?"

"Luke. Luke Hemmings," I told him. He was bouncing in his seat, like he wasn't able to sit still. The smile was still plastered to his face, making him look friendly and approachable.

He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel to his elbows. "Well, Mr. Hemmings," he started, unrolling his silverware. "I normally like to get to know someone before I go on a date with them, but you looked like you needed a bit of help."

"How did you know I got stood up?"

"The nervous looks. The constant checking of your phone for the time. I've been there many times before, my friend. It's always nice to be rescued."

A smile was making its way across my face. Who was this boy? How did he have the balls to plop down at a stranger's table?

Before I could reply, Michael looked to his left and caught the eye of the blonde waitress, waving her over. She made her way to our table, giving us both a big smile, like she was relieved I was no longer a loser. I finally looked at her nametag. Her name was Ashley.

"Would you like to order something?" she asked Michael.

Michael smiled sweetly at me. "I'll have whatever he's having."

Ashley nodded, and in the next second, she was gone.

And Michael and I were alone again. I was so used to feeling awkward around people, and sitting there with Michael made me feel calm. He was an easy spirit, not overbearing, and it almost made me forget that I had no clue who he was.

"Were you watching me?" I asked, folding my hands on my lap.

Michael chuckled, looking up at me. The light from the swinging lamp above us made his eyes sparkle. "I was having dinner with my friend on the other side of the restaurant, and I was looking at you a little longer than normal, yes."

"Thank you for saving my ass," I snorted.

"So, do you have a busy girlfriend or something?" Michael leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. His face was serious, making the back of my neck tingle.

I looked down at the table, paying closer attention to the color schemes than necessary. This restaurant was so sophisticated and high class, and the tabletops looked so run-down, words and messages scratched into the wood.

"Boyfriend, actually," I muttered, digging my fingernails into the table. "He just forgot, I guess."

I heard Michael sigh, looking up at him. His jaw was clenched, his hands in fists. "What a dick."

I shrugged, grinning softly. "It's alright, at least I got to meet my knight in shining armor."

Michael let out a loud giggle, covering his mouth after it escaped. Crinkles formed around his eyes, little breaths leaving his mouth. A happy feeling began bubbling in my chest, something I hadn't felt in a long time.

Michael's food came out not long after that, steaming between is as it sat on the table. I watched him eat, neatly slicing into his noodles with his fork and knife. He would attempt to talk to me, forgetting his mouth was full, then politely wipe his face with his napkin.

I learned that he was twenty years old, just like me. He lives in a loft apartment with his best friend Ashton, which was who he accompanied here tonight as he was watching me. He likes grilled cheese and gory video games, and has a whole collection of Disney movies hidden in his room. He was so passionate, arms flailing wildly as he talked about things he loved. My cheeks hurt from laughing at him.

Finally, as the last spoonful of pasta entered his mouth, I felt myself grow upset again. It's been such a long time since I spent a night laughing, since I felt noticed. I'm usually in the background, listening to other people laugh and joke. I was never in the spotlight, always behind it.

Michael and I paid for our meal and began to get our jackets on, getting ready to leave. As he reached across the table to pile our garbage onto our plates, his flannel sleeves rode up, revealing his forearms. Lining up and down his pasty skin, angry red lines took up the space. Some were old and faded, some were fresh and bright, crusted blood surrounding the marks. My eyes widened as I stared at his arms. Something clenched in my chest and I felt like crying again, but not because of my own misery this time. I felt like crying a lot lately.

I snapped myself back to reality before he could realize I was gawking at a personal part of him. I pulled a couple dollars out of my wallet, leaving them on the table for Ashley. She was pushy, but she was sweet.

We walked out of the restaurant next to each other, the cold air immediately biting into our skin. The wind pushed my hair up off my forehead, nipping at my nose.

Michael and I stood there listening to the quiet streets for a couple minutes in silence. It felt like we were both waiting for something, but not knowing what it was. It wasn't awkward, just a comfortable quietness, like a warm blanket blocking us from the cold.

"So," Michael started softly, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. "My car's this way." He pointed to the parking lot behind the building.

"Thank you for our date tonight, Michael," I grinned. "I'm sure it was much more exciting than my real date would have been."

Michael laughed, looking up at the sky. He breathed out deeply, puffs of air following after. "You're welcome, Luke. I hope you rip your boyfriend a new asshole for ditching you."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I'll try."

I felt the urge to ask him for his number or something, just so this didn't have to end right away. I didn't want us to walk away and never hear from each other again. I'd only spent an evening with him and he'd already made an unseen imprint on me somewhere. I didn't want him to forget me.

But as he began to walk backwards towards the parking lot, a soft and happy "Goodnight, Luke," leaving his mouth, I felt something inside me sink.

I watched him turn around, the strong winds whipping his bright hair around his head as he stalked towards his car. Finally the loud redness of his head disappeared into the thick fog. I lifted up my hand and sent him a small wave back, even though he couldn't see it.

i love this story wtf