Bookshelves - Luke Hemmings

4

Making sure Kai wasn't going to wake up, I dragged his desk chair over to the shelf on which he'd placed my phone. I'd already put my shorts back on and changed my shirt. I wasn't sure where he'd put Luke's hoodie, but I was almost certain that I'd never be seeing it again. I silently choked on air, making several attempts to stand on the unstable chair, simply falling down onto the floor every time. I was glad for my light steps, landing on the floor with barely any noise. What would Kai think of this?

I did eventually stand myself up, the seat slightly spinning, much to my disgust and protest. I grabbed the phone as quickly as I could, under the circumstances, and sat myself down on the chair before trying to get off of it. Turning to make sure Kai was still sleeping, I willed the door to not creak on my way out, and made my way down the stairs. Hunting for the front door key was possibly the hardest thing I'd ever tried to do, especially in the dark. Kai's mother slept with the door open, in the room next to the kitchen, and I was certain she'd notice if I turned the light on at three o'clock in the morning. In the end, though, I gave up on finding the key and found a nice window that would open widely enough for me to clamber out, with the assistance of the coffee table. It proved to be quite simple, until my knees hit the gravel with a solid thud, and they both split open as I tried to stand up. Phone dead and knees smashed up, I used street-lamp light and general knowledge of the area to make an attempt at getting home.

As it turned out, I wasn't doing so well. I'd gotten lost at least three times, and I hadn't quite left Kai's street yet; I could still see his house. I was also becoming increasingly aware of the dried blood on my knees and shins, and that my socks were not white anymore. Stumbling across an old phone box that looked like it would probably give me some form of herpes, I fumbled around in my shorts pockets for the bus money I'd brought to Kai's for tomorrow; it wasn't like mum or dad would come and get me. I only managed to salvage about half when I was changing back into my shorts, but it was enough for a three minute phone call in the phone box from Hell. I didn't question who I was going to call, clambering into the box, shutting the door, and feeding my coins into the machine. Mentally begging him to pick up, I dialled Luke's house phone number.

Suddenly, on the third ring, I realised the flaw in my plan. Luke's brother's and his mum. Jack and Ben were both still living at home, and I'd never known Liz to be a light sleeper; Luke and I had woken her up giggling countless times. It probably wasn't going to be Luke who picked up the phone. I made a mental note to learn his mobile number for future references, but knew I'd forget in less than thirty seconds. "Hello?" I sighed hitting my head on the side of the phone box, slightly.

"Ben?"

"Jack. Amber?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I woke you up." Jack chuckled, softly,on the other side of the phone line. I'd never heard anyone so tired, before. Granted, I'd never spoken to a person who'd woken up thirty seconds ago. "It's fine. You wouldn't have called at stupid o'clock if it weren't important. You okay?" My knees suddenly began to sting and my wrist ached until I nearly dropped the phone. Was I okay? "Can you come get me?" I didn't answer him directly, but would I have asked him , an obvious shake in my voice, to come and get me if I'd have been okay? "Uhm, sure. I guess. Where are you?"

"No, you don't have to." I choked on my words a little, thinking of what it would be liked to set up camp in this ice cold STD ridden phone box. "I just-"

"Where are you."

"A phone box somewhere on Wolseley Road." How I expected him to know where that meant, I wasn't quite sure, but I was tired and cold and lonely, and I was hurting. "What's the nearest house number, Amber?" His tone softened considerably; he must have realised where I was.

"Thirty Five, I think. Somewhere in the thirties..."

"Alright. You hang tight, okay? I'll be there soon. Do you want me to wake Luke up?" I shook my head for a good few seconds, before realising that, yes, I did want him to wake Luke up and, no, he could not see me shaking my head. "Yes, please. But if he complains, leave him in bed."

"Alright, Amber."

It took a good twenty minutes and the loss of feeling in my fingers and toes for Luke to open the door of the phone box, face crumpled, tears threatening to tumble. "You're okay." He stated, crouching down to where I'd huddled myself on the concrete base of the box (not my most brilliant idea). I nodded and reached for him. "You're okay." He repeated, taking my hands and pulling us both up and dragging my straight into his arms. "You're not going back there. You can't."

"I left your hoodie there." He smiled, pulling back and pressing his forehead to mine. He'd always done this when I was upset, or feeling a little down. It was quite cute, really. "I don't care. You can have another one. Come get in the car."