This Life

'89 Rustbucket

Michael only wanted to eat his fries.

He didn't want to deal with the one-sided argument that went on beside him on between his best friend and that trash mammal. Michael absolutely despised Dylan and his group of rats. At least that's all he referred to them as because that's all they were to him: pests.

"Fuck off, Dylan." Luke sighed, the annoyance in his voice had grown since the first time he had to fend off the boy and his clique for the third time, during lunch. It almost made him regret scratching his car.

It almost did.

But Luke wasn't feeling sorry yet and Michael knew he wasn't going to anytime soon (or at all), so all he could do was eat and wait.

"Listen up faggot," Dylan sneered, slamming his hand on the table and leaning in but Luke hardly blinked an eye as he continued to poke at his food.

"The next time you even look at my corvette, I'll make sure you won't be able to take another step anywhere. Hey? You listening to me dipshit?" Dylan shouted, pulling Luke up by the shirt collar so they were both at eye level.

Luke just sighed, as if being limp in the boy's grasp required too much effort.

"Listen. You should feel lucky that I even walked past that ancient scrapheap from '89 and that it didn't fall apart as soon as this exclusive Chanel touched it. Now could you please get your hand off my sweater  because I know you didn't wash them after you jerked off in the little boy's room during 4th period." Luke says, just offensive enough to strike a chord with Dylan who raised his arm to throw a punch.

And that was Michael's cue. Come in and save Luke after his smart mouth and big money got him into trouble.

Michael caught Dylan's arm before his fist reached Luke. And Luke's eyes light up when Michael shoved him back.

Luke didn't like starting fights, he always argued with Michael about that fact. But Luke did like watching Michael fight, he always thought of him as a boxer.

So while Michael beat the living shit out of people, Luke sat there in his soft pink sweater, chin in hand as he observed with admiration.

"Could you maybe stop making people want to beat the shit out of you?" Michael asked as he sat back down after the boys ran off, wiping the blood off his knuckles onto his flannel. It was a good thing it was red, he thought to himself.

"No." Luke smiled and hoped off of the picnic table. Michael just sighed and poked at his fries, that had now gotten cold. He didn't expect much else from Luke, it had always worked that way between them.

"Can we go? I have a test in Pre-Cal and I didn't study." Luke asked sweetly. "Were you planning to study?" Michael chuckled as Luke just shook his head and tugged him away. Michael abandoned the cold fries, leaving them to the mercy of the crows as he followed Luke.

Michael was starving and he was still craving fries, so they went to the local diner that was a few blocks away from the school.

Luke didn't hate old cars, he just didn't like Dylan. He loved Jenny, though. She was the 1969, jet black Mustang that Michael always felt lucky to have. Luke got it for him as a gift for his birthday. Michael felt bad that Luke was paying, but Luke didn't mind since it didn't make much of a dent in his allowance. But despite that, Michael still didn't like the fact that Luke was paying part of it, it made him feel like he was using him, but he knew Luke would insist and he really didn't have the money for it with his only income being his part-time job at the local grocer. But Michael was his best friend and he knew life was tough, so the least Luke felt he could do was make it a little easier on him.

That was always a problem Luke had with Michael. He never asked for help from him. It hurt Luke to think that Michael would never ask for his help. Michael could be terminally ill with only a week to live, never tell Luke a thing.

Obviously, he was overexaggerating, he tended to do this a lot, but he couldn't help but get paranoid when it came to Michael. His dad was a waste of space, his mom was out of the picture, and he hardly ever told Luke what went on at home, but he had a pretty good idea. 

And now Michael was worryied about how he always spent the summer with Luke, he was getting paranoid that it was annoying him. 

"We've spent the Summer with each other since middle school, how is it any different now?" Luke asked and Michael just shrugged, he wasn't too sure.

"I guess I just feel bad about the car payment and stuff, you even bought lunch today," Michael says. "I just don't want you to get annoyed and think I'm using you." He says.

"Why not try boxing?" Luke suggested before taking a sip of his Milkshake. "You're a pretty good fighter, in my personal opinion and I'm sure that there's a coach at the local gym would train you," Luke says. 

"But that takes money that I don't have," Michael says

"Which is why I'll pay," Luke says as if his money solves the problem once again. But it didn't.

"That's the problem, I don't want to use your money this Summer. I want to give you some space." Michael says. Michael appreciated that Luke was willing to help, but Michael knew how to stand on his own two feet.

"I don't want space between us, Mikey. I only want to get closer." Luke says with a slight smirk.

"I know," Michael says, all too well aware of Luke's bedroom fantasies. 

Michael sighed, he figured he could muster up some of the money to pay Luke back if he worked a few extra hours. He wasn't entirely sure if boxing was right for him, but Luke seemed to think so and he knew him better than anyone else.

"You think I enjoy beating the shit out of people?"

"Yes," Luke responded without missing a beat. 

Michael sighed, resting his head on the cool tabletop. He didn't exactly dislike fighting, but he wouldn't consider it a hobby. Actually, Michael would probably have over $100 if he had a nickel for the number of times he had to save Luke's ass.  

"Touche," Michael said and ate another one of his fries.

"So you'll do it?" Luke asks, looking up at him from across the table.

"I'll try it," Michael says and Luke smiles. "You'll be great at it, trust me," Luke says. "I'd be surprised if I wasn't. I have plenty of experience thanks to you." He says, making Luke chuckle. 

"You're the one who steps in, I never said I needed you to save me," Luke says and Michael scoffs. Michael always helped Luke ever since he was bullied in middle school. But over the years Luke had developed a big mouth, thick skin, and a nice layer of sass to defend himself.

"Could it be because you have a crush on me?" Luke questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Michael rolled his eyes. "You wish." He said and took a sip of his smoothie, but Luke just smiled because Michael couldn't be anymore more right.