Since her first day of school in California, Luke Jacobson had always been by Cassie's side.
Until she wasn't by his.
*not fanfiction; extended description in first chapter*
❝ I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now I just wanna know you, know you, know you❞
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As we sat in between the shelves us books, the library was absolutely silent.
The librarian had looked at us suspiciously when we both walked through the door, neither of us holding reading books, but she had left us alone.
We had quickly found an isle away from anyone else and sat down, but of us getting down to work.
Luke was sitting on the ground in front of me. Sitting against his knees was a notebook with a hard green plastic cover. There was an orange crayon gripped tightly in his right hand. He was drawing something on the paper, but he wouldn't show me.
I looked at the books he was leaning against, reading some of the titles; they were mostly chapter books that were a few years above our reading level, but there were a few I had read.
I watched Luke for a few more seconds. His tongue poked out of his mouth slightly as he bit his lip in concentration. Like always, his curly hair flopped onto his forehead as he leaned over the paper, his hand scribbling away. His green eyes were slightly narrowed in concentration.
When I saw his head move slightly like he was about to look up, I quickly moved my eyes from his face, not wanting to get caught staring. My cheeks felt warm and my stomach did a weird flip, and I didn't know why.
Maybe I was catching the flu or something.
My eyes finally moved back down to my own lap.
I had one of my dad's old jackets. It was a navy blue, soft from being constantly worn, but it was my favorite.
I was in the process of sewing on one of the military patches that had fallen off a while ago. My mother always said she would put it back on, but she never had time. She was constantly on the phone with the author she was working with, trying to work something out. I didn't blame her, I knew she worked hard, but I just wanted the patch back on.
I had brought one of her little pin cushions and a spool of thread, and was currently working the needle in and out, tracing the outline of the patch.
It took me a few seconds to realize Luke was no longer writing and had now turned his attention to me. As I looked up, his eyes met mine.
"Do you miss him?" He asked, his eyes soft.
I looked down, nodding. I knew he was talking about my dad. "I think about him every day and how much I miss him and wish he was here. But then I remember how proud he was to go into the military and how he loved doing it, and it makes it a little easier."
"Do you ever worry?"
"That he won't come back?" Luke nodded his head. "Everyday. I know my mom worries even more than me. But I just try not to think about it."
Luke watched my face for a few seconds and looked back to his notebook before closing it.
