"Stuck In The Friend-Zone Again and Again"

"Wake You Up"

I woke at 6:30 to the loud crashing sound of Luke tripping in the hall.
I rushed to the door to find him sprawled on the ground.
"Are you okay?" I asked, suppressing a laugh as I wiped my eyes of sleep.
"Yeah," Luke chuckled, standing up. "I just don't know how I managed to trip over nothing."
"It's just cause you're all legs," I said dismissively, flashing him a grin.
"Is that so?"
I nodded. "It's like a 4:1:20 hair to body to legs ratio."
Luke laughed. "Really?"
"It's not just me that thinks this," I informed him. "All of Tumblr agrees."
"Do they now?" Luke said amusedly.
"Yes," I told him. "Now, since I'm awake, I'm going to have a shower."
Luke chuckled, continuing down the hall to his room.

I went back into my room to grab my shower stuff as well as the outfit I had picked out for travelling, simple jean shorts and the black oversized "Clifford '95" t shirt with his signature in neon pink Painters (like multipurpose markers that work on fabric) that was in the mix of merch I was given; I had them for each boy with their signatures in different colours.
I hurried to the bathroom, pulled off my pajamas (Luke's shirt and my underwear and bra) and jumped in the shower.
I quickly shaved and washed extra well, since there would probably be a whole bunch of paps out since it was the first leg of the tour.
When I was done, I hopped out of the shower and towel dried my hair to the best of my ability, then brushed it and did it in a sideways sloping French braid, not caring that it was still damp.
After I was dressed, I grabbed my stuff from the bathroom and brought it into my room, packing it away into my suitcase.
I grabbed my glasses off of the nightstand and slid them on, before bounding out the door and down the stairs for my final breakfast at the Hemmings house before tour.

"Good morning," Liz greeted me from the kitchen.
"Morning!" I replied cheerfully, sitting down at the table next to Luke.
"Shirt?" He half asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I felt like wearing it and..." I trailed off, my face growing somber. "I know Michael doesn't have a lot of family to say goodbye to, so I figured if I wore this it would be kind of like I was his family."
Luke gave me a small sad smile, like he couldn't believe the weight and sweetness of what I had just said.
"Paris-" Luke began.
I blushed, cutting him off. "I know it's dumb."
"No!" Luke said, looking astonished. "It's not at all! I just can't believe you sometimes. You're 16 and that's what you think about when you're leaving for a world tour and choosing your outfit. It's incredible. And I know Michael will appreciate it, even if he doesn't say."
I smiled softly. "I just want everyone to feel like they're loved."
He smiled.
"I know how it feels to not be, so I figure if I can try and keep everyone else from feeling that way, I'm doing okay," I continued in a softer tone, looking at my hands.
Luke sighed sadly, and when I sneaked a look at his face, he looked like he might cry.
"What's wrong?" I asked quietly.
His face snapped into a placid expression. "Nothing, I'm okay."
As much as I wanted to argue, I couldn't, because I could tell that this was not the time and place.

Before I could fret about what to do, Liz came bustling over with a huge plate of chocolate chip waffles, followed by Andrew with a big gallon of maple syrup and a big bowl of strawberries.
Luke crinkled his nose. "I can never look at maple syrup the same way after having the real stuff."
I laughed. "The homemade, Canadian stuff?"
He nodded. "That stuff is the shit."
Liz opened her mouth to say something.
"I'm 20," mum, he said, cutting her off. "I can swear."
Liz closed her mouth and nodded, sitting down at the table across from Luke.
Andrew sat down and we dug into the food, piling waffles and fruit onto our plates.
Luke teased me for placing half a strawberry in each individual square of my two waffles before drowning them in fake syrup.
I calmly asked him with a small smile why my breakfast preferential habits were worth teasing.
"It's just funny, like everything has to be perfect. And your nose kind of scrunches when you're arranging them, which is kind of adorable," he confessed with a smirk.
I blushed. "I've always done that, ever since I was like 5."
"You made your own waffles when you were 5?" Luke joked.
"No I started making my own meals when I was 11," I reminded him with a playful smile, causing his face to drop.
"I didn't mean-"
"I know," I laughed, not letting him finish.
"Well I just-"
"It's not a big deal, Luke," I said. "It's just my life. Why do you think I make jokes about it?"
Okay so it was a big deal that my parents let me to fend for myself at 11 years old but not in this case; in this case it was just a joking statement. And I was used to it.
Luke shrugged. "Okay."
Liz and Andrew hadn't been listening to our conversation, which was good, because Liz didn't approve of my parents; she thought that they were flakes who didn't have time to be a parent to their daughter.
Luke and I sat in comfortable silence eating our waffles, me one square/strawberry combination at a time.

When we had finished, Liz practically pushed us up the stairs to finish up last minute everythings.
I unplugged my phone and slipped it and my charger into my little leather satchel/small purse thing that went diagonally across my body (you know what I mean I just can't think of the name), as well as a Baby Lips and my credit card (thanks mum and dad!).
I brushed my teeth and stuck my toothbrush bag thing in my suitcase, zipping it up afterwards.
I looked at my packed bags in satisfactory, ready to embark on the exciting journey to come.