A slow fall

Chapter 40 - Lucas

    "You're moping still." Bates said as he sat down across from me. The canteen was abuzz with the lunchtime rush, noises from every direction. My notes book sat in a bile beside me, my work not long replaced by food.

The university only had one canteen and because of that it was big. It had to be to accommodate such a large student population. It was two floors and had tables taking up any available space. It's gotten here before the rush and managed to claim a table a little off to the side.

"I'm not moping."

"You so are." Erik said, as if the need to berate me summoned him. His chair squeaked as he pulled it out.

"I'm not."

Erik placed his lunch, some sort of pasta salad stacked full with tuna, on the table before dramatically flopping into his chair. "Ugh, this is why I don't try to date." He took the bobble off his wrist, tying his blond hair back into a bun. When his hands were free he used one to point at me, "It's too much hassle."

Bates shot him a look, the usual look often associated with Erik, amusement and confusion. "No one wants to date you, that's why."

"Lots of girls want to. I've been flirted with loads, I'll have you know."

"And yet none of us have ever seen this."

Erik went to argue some more, then stopped, shrugging his shoulders and instead turning his attention to me. "The more important thing right now is poor little Lukie."

"No, no." I held my hands up hoping to avoid the inevitable interrogation, "Please go back to arguing about your non-existent love life."

"We will be revisiting that." Bates agreed before Erik could refute it once more, "But let's talk about you first." When I said nothing, simply moving to take another bite of my sandwich, he huffed. "Dude, come on."

"Come on what?"

"You know what."

"I know nothing." And if looks could kill.

"We just wanna help."

This wasn't the first time Bates had pried this week, so it wasn't the first time I'd said, "it's nothing. Seriously." When they both just stared me down I continued, "it's really nothing." Which was the truth. There wasn't anything to report because after Saturday night there was nothing. No texts, no phone calls, no Caleb.

Erik let out a frustrated groan, his head smacking against his arm on the table. He made some noise, maybe words, but they were indistinguishable. When he only got silence in response he sat up again.

"I said, you're being really annoying right now. Like really, really."

"I second that."

"What do you want from me?"

"Tell us what has you looking so glum."

I thought back to Sunday morning. About how I'd woken up, and despite the faint throbbing in my skull and the tiredness clinging to me like a second skin, I'd felt good.

I remember Caleb waking up early, as he always seemed to do, and needing to leave because of Adam. I remember asking him, in a not so direct way, to stay a little longer, but I understood why he couldn't. When he said we'd talk later it felt like a promise; that what had happened that night might've been something.

I sent him a good night text on Sunday. On Monday I asked a few questions, said I'd ring later to catch up. He never answered the phone. It was Wednesday now.