You Might Be The One (A Fan Fiction) - Luke Hemmings

Chapter 27• Paper Plane Flew

Leyla's POV

The walk to the cafeteria was a slow, painful pilgrimage. Luke's retreat felt less like a defeat and more like a tactical withdrawal. He was not a villain, not a monster, but a deeply flawed person who had let his fear consume him. And I, a part of me whispered, still loved that broken person. The truth had set me free, but it had also left me raw and aching, grieving for a future that was never real.

As we reached the crowded cafeteria, the noise was a welcome distraction. We found a table in a far corner, a small island of quiet in a sea of adolescent chatter. My friends didn't push me to talk; they simply existed, a quiet, unwavering presence. Faith handed me a carton of chocolate milk, a silent offering of comfort. Jovi sat beside me, her shoulder touching mine in a gesture of solidarity. Calum sat across from me, his eyes never leaving my face. He knew what was happening beneath the surface, the private battle I was still fighting.

Just as I took a sip of my milk, a shadow fell over our table. Luke stood there, but this time, he was alone. The desperation was gone, replaced by a quiet, determined resolve. The swagger he had worn for the past two weeks was completely gone. He was just a boy, standing awkwardly, with nowhere to hide.

"Leyla," he said, his voice low. "Please. I just need five minutes. Alone."

My friends tensed. Faith's hand went to mine, a silent plea for me to refuse. Calum's jaw was set. I looked at Luke, at the boy who had once seemed to hold the universe in his hands, and I knew that this was it. The final act. I couldn't run from this. Not anymore. I had to face it, alone.

"It's okay," I said, my voice barely a whisper. I stood up and looked at my friends, a silent promise in my eyes. "I'll be right back."

Calum's expression was a mixture of concern and trust. He knew I had to do this. He simply nodded and watched me walk away with Luke.

We found a quiet stairwell, a place where no one else was. The fluorescent light hummed, casting long, stark shadows. Luke leaned against the wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked at me, and his eyes, once so full of light, were now clouded with a deep, bottomless sadness.

"I know," he began, his voice rough. "I know I can't ask you to forgive me. I know I messed up. But I can't... I can't let this be how it ends. I can't let you go again without telling you the truth. The real one."

He looked down, his voice a broken whisper. "I wasn't just scared of you leaving. I was terrified. You were my whole world, Leyla. I didn't have big plans like you. I didn't know what I was going to do. And when you got that scholarship, it wasn't just about losing you; it was about losing the future I had built in my head. A future where we were together, and I was... enough. I saw you running from me that night, and I saw my entire world running from me. I was so angry, so hurt, so scared."

His words were a raw, honest confession that tore at my heart. He was showing me the truth, the pain he had been hiding behind his lies. The part of me that still loved him ached, longing to reach out and tell him that it was okay. That I understood. That I could still see the boy who had made me believe in the stars.

Just as I was about to speak, something shifted. It wasn't just a feeling; it was a flash, a blinding, white-hot memory that shot through me like a bolt of lightning.

I was there, in the car. It was night. The windows were down, the cool air blowing through my hair. Luke was in the driver's seat, his face a mask of furious disappointment.

"You're running from us, Leyla," he snarled, his words sharp. "You're a coward."

"It's not about you, Luke!" I screamed back, my voice thick with tears. "This is about my life! My future!"

"And what about us?" he shot back. "What about me? I don't need a scholarship to know what I want! I want you!"

His words hit me like a physical blow. The car stopped at a red light, and in a moment of sheer, blind rage and frustration, I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"Then you're going to have to let me go," I screamed, my voice breaking.

I threw open the door and ran. I didn't look back. I didn't look at the road. I just ran, my feet hitting the pavement, the sound of Luke screaming my name a distant roar behind me. I was running away from him, running towards a life of my own. I saw a car coming, the headlights a bright, blinding flash. And in that moment, in the second before everything went black, the last thing I saw was Luke. Not running after me, not trying to save me. He was standing by the car, his face a mask of cold, unmoving anger. He didn't even take a step.

The memory ended as quickly as it had begun. The fluorescent lights of the stairwell flickered back into focus. I was breathing hard, a cold sweat beading on my forehead. My entire body was shaking. The truth was not just a story I had been told. It was a memory I had lived.

I looked at Luke, and the pain in my heart was gone, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. The love I thought I had for him was an illusion, a ghost of a feeling for a boy who had never truly existed. He had not been heartbroken. He had been so angry, so filled with resentment, that he had let me run into the street. He had watched.

"You weren't running after me," I whispered, the words filled with a quiet finality that left no room for doubt. "You were just standing there. You didn't even try to stop me."

His face crumbled. The last vestiges of his composure vanished, replaced by a look of profound, agonizing guilt. He knew. He knew I had remembered.

"I can't... I can't live with this, Leyla," he said, tears finally streaking down his face. "I'm so sorry. I should have..."

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to," I said, my voice steady, my heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. "You're the one who needs to live with this. Not me."

I turned and walked away. I didn't need to say anything else. There was nothing left to say. The last piece of the puzzle had been put into place. I wasn't the girl who had been broken by a car accident. I was a girl who had survived a car accident and a betrayal, and I was finally ready to start writing my own story.

I found my friends waiting for me in the hallway, their faces full of anxious questions. I simply looked at them, a small, genuine smile on my face. The ghost was gone. The monster was gone. All that was left was the truth. The terrifying, beautiful truth.

"Let's go," I said, and as we walked, I felt a familiar presence. The paper airplane in my pocket wasn't just a piece of paper anymore. It was a symbol of a journey, a promise that a small piece of paper could fly farther than you ever thought it could. And for the first time, I felt ready to fly.