try hard // luke hemmings

Chapter Thirteen

My afternoon was pretty boring after Luke left. I waked around my house aimlessly. I ate a piece of bread in hopes of gaining at least a little weight. A hopeless wish.

I went to bed early that night, staring at my phone longingly, hoping for a rude text, a snarky call, anything, from Luke.

It was ten and nothing was happening; my parents weren't home and I was getting worried. I rolled out from under the covers and out of my room. Downstairs, everything was dark. I cautiously held onto the banister and stepped down the stairs in the dark.

I quietly opened the door to the master bedroom, looking for the adults. They weren't in here. I surveyed the kitchen, study, and even out in the patio. No one was here and it was late, and I was getting scared. I could feel anxiety taking over me. I slammed the French doors shut and ran back up the stairs and jumped into my bed, pulling the covers over my head.

Where could they be?

I looked out from under the blankets to the ceiling.

There was a slight crash downstairs and I jumped in my pajamas. What was going on? Where was Logan and Mom? Why aren't they hear? I reached my hand out for my phone and tapped on the contact icon. Who could I call?

No one, Cheyanne. Absolutely no one, taunted my head.

I refused to listen to my head and willed myself into thinking of something else. Anything else. Of Luke's hands, how they rest on my hip bone whenever we're close. Of his eyes, the way they sparkle when he talks animatedly to his friends. Of the cold, metal piercing that will always send chill down my spine when we kiss. Of his promise to never hurt me, never hate me, never hit me.

Soon, the fear has melted away and I'm not that afraid anymore. I creep out of bed and clutch my phone to my chest, turning on the flash for a source of light. I crept out into the hallway and down the stairs, slightly more brave.

I snapped the light in the kitchen on, momentarily thinking this was how I was going to die. Instead, I let out a giggle.

"Kitty!" I squeal, to no one but myself. There was a small cat hiding under the table, looking almost as frightened as I had been when I heard all the ruckus. I look behind me and that's when I notice the plates in the drying rack have been put out if order, some are even on the counter.

I bend down and get face to face with blue-eyed kitten. "Here, kitty kitty. Here kitty!" I call out. It takes two tentative steps toward me and then it leaps, playfully batting its paws at my nose.

I giggle and pick it up carefully, cradling it to my chest.

I tickle its tummy and stand, picking my phone from the floor. I have to tell somebody. A glance at the digital clock on the oven informs me that's 11:00. Who can I call that won't get mad that I've called them this late?

No one.

I blink away small tears upon realizing this and focus on getting the kitten something to eat. A tad of milk and pieces of bread will have to suffice for now. I carry him, I say him after I check under his belly, to my room and lay him on my bed. I have to decide a name.

After a bit of debating in my head, I settle for Bruce.

"Bruce the mighty kitty." I whisper, pressing a kiss to his head as we both drift off to sleep.

-----

In the morning, I wonder what made me possess the idea of keeping Bruce. Logan and Margaret would never be okay with feeding another mouth. I'm frantic at the thought of leaving Bruce home alone. I haven't even checked if my parents were home. I can't keep him in my room, no door. And the thought of locking him in my closet sickens me.

I finally make him a box and put him in there, shoving it under my bed, after apologizing profusely. I made sure Bruce has water and food to satisfy him the whole day.

I tear out of the house, afraid of being late. I make the bus just in time and ride that for the remainder of the way.

When I got to my library assistant job, Ms. Luebke stood from the desk hurriedly. "Cheyanne, are you okay? You weren't here yesterday and I was worried sick."

"I'm fine. Thank you for worrying." I smile. "And Luke wasn't here yesterday either! And it looks like he won't be joining us today, huh?" She says. "Why?" I ask a little too quickly. "Oh, his band has an interview in L. A. The head of students asked me to excuse his absence for the day."

I frown a little, kind of upset at the lack of Luke's company. I was getting used to the little prick. 

I continued my job by myself. I shelved the books, ran errands, and basically wallowed in my loneliness. I went the whole day feeling sorry for myself and ended up skipping lunch and heading out to the bleachers, to hang out with the potheads, something I had never done. 

I didn't do anything; I just stood in the back, staring at them and wondering how they could do something like that to themselves.

A boy who I swear I've seen before, started heading towards me. Should I have a reason to be nervous? I asked myself. It's Charlie!

''Cheyanne, what are you doing here?'' he asks, clearly excited to see me. I shrug. "Guess, I wasn't up for the cafeteria scene today. What are you? Doing here, I mean." Charlie flushes a bright red. ''I am kinda part of their group. To be honest, I didn't imagine you as a part of them.''At the word them, he jerks his head back towards this one guy, slowly inhaling on what looked like a blunt.

"I'm not, it's just." I sigh. "I wanna let loose, be different, ya know?" I ask, slightly afraid of his response. ''I know exactly what you need. Hey! Joseph, bring some of your work of art over here!'' Charlie winks at me as a short, stubby guy walks over to us, a small bag in his hand.

''Why do you call it a work of art?'' I ask

"He makes it. Why else?'' Charlie answers with a laugh. I nod, not really getting it. ''It's meth, Chey. Here, have some, like this.''

Charlie pours an itty bitty portion on the palm of my hand. ''Now, you can either smoke it or eat it. If you eat it, it tastes like the moon."

I bend my head down, bring my hand up, and poke my tongue out of my mouth, letting the crystals touch the tip. At first, it's like pop rocks, dancing on my tongue exotically, then, it slowly consumes me, bringing me under and suddenly... I'm on the moon.

.

Hours later, I find myself in a house I don't remember walking to, in a bed I don't remember laying in. I was in a big t-shirt and it wasn't mine. I rolled to my side and there was Charlie, sitting on the edge, no shirt on, facing other boys. Charlie was holding a small pipe in his hand, every once in a while bringing it to his lips and inhaling.

"Is it the moon?'' I croak, my voice weak from sleep. Charlie smiles, hugging me into his side. "It is. Want more?''

I inhale the moon, leaning back on the headboard, floating with Neil Armstrong in place. God, if life was like this everyday. No worries about anything. Just me, this room, and the moon.

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A/N: tbh, I don't know what went on in this chapter, but its up and I'm sorry its been forever and if its really short pressure me to update bc yeah. lol (ik its short haha) but yeah, soooo, where are my Charlie/Chey shippers? who do you see her with? comment lol. peace out my babies xx

p. s. don't kill me if it really sucks just tell me to take this chapter down and to post a new one ha ha sorry