To Fix Yesterday | l.h.

0.3

A familiar blonde haired boy hovered over me, holding himself up in a low, push up position. His face was just a couple inches away from mine, and I could feel his warm breath on my nose. I examined his face, not having much of a choice since he was so close. His eyes were such a bold color of blue, it looked as if they were photoshopped. There was a black lip ring near the corner of his mouth. His hair was styled the same way it had been when I saw him in the lobby the day before.

He cleared his throat, slowly pushing himself off of me and onto his feet. He held his hand out in front of me, waiting patiently for me to take it. I hesitantly placed my hand in his, causing a smile to form on his lips. It was when he pulled me onto my feet that I realized just how tall he was. He was most definitely over a foot taller than me.

"Um, why, why did you, um, do that?" I stuttered, searching for the right words.

"You don't think I would've just let you get hit when I was perfectly capable saving you, do you?" he asked, his smiling growing bigger. He seemed to be permanently happy.

"Oh, no. And thanks. Thank you. A lot," I muttered, awkwardly, looked down at my feet.

"Of course," he said, nodding. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, he spoke again. "Um, I met you yesterday. I live across the hall from you. I'm-"

"Yeah, I remember you," I interrupted, nodding.

He chuckled and said, "I'm Luke. Luke Hemmings. And you are?"

"Skyla," I whispered almost too quietly. "Skyla Peters."

"Skyla," he repeated. "I like that name."

"Thanks," I said before quickly adding, "I should get, um, I need to go."

"Oh, ok. Can we like hang out or something? Maybe talk?" he asked, looking down at me with with eager eyes and a smile.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I mumbled, sighing. "Thank you again."

Before he could say anything else, I began quickly walking away. I heard sirens of police cars getting closer. I looked up at the road, eyeing the truck that almost hit me. It had swerved into one or two other cars. A couple people on the the sidewalk were still staring at me. I bit my lip and looked back at the ground, continuing to walk.

Only a couple seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping my movement. I turned around to face Luke once again. I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain why he stopped me.

"I, um, here," he stuttered, handing me a small piece of crumpled up paper.

I unfolded it to reveal a phone number written in smudgy pencil. Above it read "Luke's number." I looked back up at him, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" I asked slowly.

"Yeah, yes, I do!" he blurted out quickly, his eyes widening. "I just, I'm not trying to ask you out, it's, um, I know you don't have any friends, no, I mean, you're new here, I wanted to-"

I interrupted his nervous jumble of words which he was trying to form into a functioning sentence. "I told you, I don't want any friends. Thanks, though."

"Are you sure?" he asked, biting his lip.

"Very sure. But, I'll keep this if it makes you feel any better," I said, holding up the wrinkled paper.

He nodded, a small smile forming on his face. I put the paper in the back pocket of my jeans, before offering him a small wave and heading off.

•

Standing in the corner of the room, I stocked the shelf labelled "Teen Fiction" with books. I had snatched myself a job at Barnes & Noble, just like I told Ashton I would. I reached into the cart next to me, pulling out a book and setting it on the shelf.