He Was P(L)uke

23

I walked home alone. Just like I always did when I walked home from school. The one similarity was that my eyes were growing red from crying. The one difference was that I always cried because I was caring too much. But that day I cried because he lied, I was confused, and I had stopped caring. Ever since I was very young, changes have affected me quite a lot. I don't enjoy changes. I hate them, to say the least. Even if it's moving to a new house, or getting new stuff. It means I have to adjust my mind, and that's painful.

So the thought of moving on, has always haunted me. So if I stopped caring, it doesn't mean I stopped loving. It just changed. And I was not ready for that-

"Charlie, wait!" Someone yelled behind me. "Please hear me out!" It was Luke Hemmings. The one boy who I fell for, and couldn't say I loved him back. The Luke Hemmings I had thrown up for a thousand and eleven times. He was Luke with puke. He was P(L)uke.

I turned around, and saw him again. I know I always describe his eyes, because they are the first thing you notice in him. But every part of his face is flawless, and do not get me started on his body. He was perfect. There's actually no adjective to describe him.

"Please hear me out." He begged. I shook my head and tried to move away, but he sprinted faster and grabbed my arm. "Charlie, please."

"No, Luke."

"Why not?" He asked. I stayed quiet, looking at him. "Answer me."

"You don't owe me an explanation." I smiled, although my heart was breaking apart. I turned my back to him and began walking. But he caught me again, grabbing my arm and making me halt. My past self would've loved it. Any type of physical contact would've been splendid. But my present self in that case, was wiggling out of his touch.

"Please, Charlie." He begged once more, tears began rolling down his cheeks. I raised my hand to his cheek. He widened his eyes, probably scared that I would hit him. I actually slapped him once. It was in eight grade, and he was raising a girl's skirt. So, me being my awesome self, slapped him across the face.

But this time I didn't. Instead, I used the side of my hands to clean his tear stained cheeks. "Stop crying." I whispered. He smiled fondly, helping me clean his own tears. "I don't want to carry with me to college the picture of my lover crying." He smiled again at the word lover, and quickly placed his arms around me.

"I can't believe you're leaving." He whispered in my hair.

"I can't believe it either." I answered back. "But it's better for everyone."

"I don't wanna have babies, Charlie." He cried. I moved back and admired his features. "Please take me with you."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I can't. You'll be studying here, and I'll leave to pursue my art career. It's better that way. You don't even fit in my bag!" He chuckled, nodding. "And I know you'll be a great father."

"I love you, you know that?" He asked. I nodded.

"I'm leaving, you know that?"

"I'll still love you, you know that?" I nodded, embracing him tightly. "When will you say I love you back?"

I quietly muttered "When you stop making me suffer." 

-/-

Luke smiled at my father as he spoke about sports. Dude my father was in love with sports. He would die for them. "-So I really like the payment." Luke finished. Mom and dad smiled, nodding their heads while I looked fondly at Luke. Calum chuckled beside me, laying his head on my shoulder.

"You've gone so far." He whispered. I giggled, pushing him away. "No but really." He continued, placing his fork down on the table. "You've gone from fearing Luke, to sitting beside him on a family dinner. Your family's dinner." I smiled, turning to my left to look at Luke. He shyly smiled at me, turning back to look at my father. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Kiera staring at me. More like caving holes into my face. I ignored her, chuckling at Calum's comment and eating like nobody was watching me.