try hard // luke hemmings

Chapter Three

I was the happiest person in the whole school when the weekend arrived. I flee home, escaping from school, the population of the school, and Luke.

Luke was so hard to understand, so hard to be around. He was so dark, so mean. His friends were all so nice though. Calum always carried my books whenever he could. Ashton made sure I didn't miss a problem in math. And Micheal simply smiled at me.

Not that I ever responded to any of their gestures.

When I got home, I raced upstairs and hid in my room. Need I remind you that I didn't have a door. I laid out my homework on my desk and changed into something comfortable. I tied back my hair in a sloppy ponytail and took out my glasses. My homework wasn't the easiest.

I was halfway through my essay for history when the phone rings downstairs and the front door slams. I hear my mother walk in, the click of her heels. That meant Logan wasn't home yet. If I was lucky I wouldn't have to be an escort tonight or tomorrow.

The shrill bell of the phone rung again. "Cheyanne?" My mother called upstairs. "Will you be a doll and get that? Mom's head hurts. Besides, it could be a bill collector. Tell them that I'm not home, yes?" I sigh and leave my room, knowing that I really had no choice.

I picked up the cordless down in the living room.

"Hello?"

"Hullo, love." says the voice at the end of the line. I almost drop the phone but catch it just in time. "H-How did you get my number?" I stutter. "I'm a star, I can get anything." Luke says cockily. "What do you want?" I ask, getting straight to the point.

"I want you to come on a date with me. It's not a request. It's an order, Cheyanne." Luke says. "I can't," I answer honestly. "Listen here, Chey, you're coming whether you like it or not." He snaps. "Luke. I seriously can't."

The front door slams and I hear the fall of heavier footsteps. Oh. No. Logan. "Luke, I got to go." I rush. "Listen Cheyanne. You can't leave me hanging." He growls. I really needed to get off the phone. Logan was going to kill-

"Bitch. What are you doing?" Logan yells, taking hold of my arm. I clutch onto the phone for dear life, vaguely hearing Luke's voice on the phone. "Why are you on the phone?!" Logan yells in my face. "Who the fuck let you on the phone?!" He keeps yelling relentlessly in my face and the tears do brim over. Margret walks in, not even staring at the conflict, just sits down and turns on the plasma with the remote

He twists my arm around to my back, and I almost forgot that I was holding the phone but then I drop it and it clatters to the floor.

My mouth forms an "o" and no sound comes out. It hurt. Bad.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

I tried wrenching free, but he only slapped me across the face. "You can't resist!" He slaps me again and I cry harder. Margret doesn't do anything; she won't do anything. I cry and I cry.

He finally lets go and shoves me. I bend at the knees and fall. He kicks me once or twice and then yells at me to go to my room. On shaky legs, I stand and painfully walk to the stairs, leading to the second floor of my house.

I reached my room and limp in, through the curtain and collapse onto my bed. I am attacked with tears and I sob into the light pink pillow. Out of all the things that had to happen to me, why was this the one? I missed my real father. I miss my old mother. I hate Logan. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. We were fine for a while. Honestly, I don't know where it went downhill.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.

I cried harder at the thought of Logan being my legal gurdian for another year. School was unbearble as it was, and with prostitution mixed in to my everyday life, it was a miracle I had survived this long. The only reason I was forced into this gross, filthy job, was because if I was going to be a teenager, I had to act like one and do things teenagers did, and that was have a job and pay rent.