Paper Cuts | Luke Hemmings ✔

13. Crossing A Line

word count; 2778

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"So," Corrine said, taking a bit of her licorice strand. She held the piece of paper in front of her face, and scanned the first few lines. "Where were we?"

"Um," Luke trailed off, staring up at the ceiling. "I have no idea." Corrine let out a short laugh.

"You are no help, at all." she said, laughing a little harder. Luke joined in.

"I'm sorry." he replied.

Corrine twisted around, grabbing a stack of paper, and flipping through it. Luke watched as she did so. He made a mental note of how she looked. She had gotten tired of her hair falling in her face, so she threw it up into a messy bun. He liked how it made her look. He liked that she wasn't hiding behind her hair like she normally was. "Found it!" she proclaimed, holding up another piece of paper. "We left off on . . . favourite food."

"Pizza." Luke replied, automatically. "I could live off of pizza, and never get sick of it."

"You sound like Michael." Corrine stated. Luke eyed her. "What? I've seen him eat a whole pizza by himself before."

"When?"

"Last year in the cafeteria." Luke thought for a while before laughing.

"He did it on a dare." he told her. "Calum bet him he couldn't, and if he did, he'd give him twenty bucks. I've seen Mike eat two whole pizzas, and an hour later state that he's still hungry. He's a bottomless pit." Corrine giggled. Luke thought it was cute. "What about you?"

"Probably Ravioli." Corrine said. "I'm addicted."

"Ravioli?" Luke said, saying it the way someone might say 'really?' She nodded.

"Yep." He held his laugh in.

"Um . . . favourite drink?"

"Beer."

Corrine raised an eyebrow.

"I'm joking. I hate beer. I don't really have a favourite drink like you."

"How do you know I have a favourite drink?" she asked, tilting her head a little.

"Corrine, you are obsessed  with tea or ice tea. You're constantly drinking the stuff, whether it's at your work or at school. Don't lie to me, and say that you don't have a favourite drink." Luke ranted, briefly looking at her. He returned his attention to the floor. She laughed again.

"You really do  pay attention to me." she teased, looking back at the paper. Luke blushed.

"Do not."

"Liar."

"Next question." Luke said.

"Alright, Mr. Hemmings, give me a second."

"Don't call me that. It makes me sound old."

"Fine, Hemmings, I won't put Mr. in front of it."

"Corrine," Luke stressed. "Don't be a smart ass."

"It's in my jeans."

He couldn't help but laugh. She smiled.

"Favourite movie?" Luke didn't miss a beat, and responded with,

"Mean Girls."

"Mean Girls?" she said in disbelief.

"What? It's a good movie." he defended. "It's funny, and . . . cool."