mr. hemmings // l.h.

13 • madeline

The minute his black car pulled up to the bus stop, I started slurring apologies. Even before he got out of the car.

"I'm so sorry, Luke." I shook my head. "I fucked up. Please don't hate me, don't be mad, I'm so sorry."

His face was angry, but I saw the concern peek through his eyes anyway.
"Come on." He said, helping me to my feet. "You're coming home with me."

I obeyed without hesitation.

He helped me into the car, and put my bag in the back. He got back in the drivers seat and took us back to his apartment once more.

He helped me to the elevator, down the hall, through his apartment, to the bedroom. I dropped on the bed.

"I'm sorry." I said again.

"Why, Madeline?" He asked, "Why go do exactly what I asked you not to?"

"Because I'm stupid." I muttered. "And my stupid ex was there, being stupid. And mean, really mean. Like always. And I wanted to drink his mean stupidness away."

He stopped, "Your ex was there?"

I nodded.

"Did he hurt you?"

Yes. But I couldn't tell him that.

"No," I said, "he was just being an idiot. A stupid, mean idiot."

He ran a hand through his hair, and then sat down beside me.

"I don't want you going to any more parties." He said, after a few moments of silence. "Period."

I nodded, "Okay, Luke."

"I mean it, Madeline. I really mean it this time."

"I know." I nodded. "I won't go to any more."

He sighed, "I hate bossing you around. I know I'm not your father, but damn it-"

"I get it," I interrupted, "really. Just please say you don't hate me."

He melted, "Of course I don't hate you. Come here."

He pulled me into him, and I rested my head on his shoulders. After a while of sitting together, I turned a bit, and straddled his lap.

"'Madeline." He sighed.

"Kiss me." I begged him, wrapping my arms around his neck. God, I was drunk.

"You're wasted," He shook his head, "I'm not doing anything with you in this state of mind."

"Do you want me?" I asked.

He rubbed my arms, "Of course I do." He whispered. "But not like this. You're drunk, baby. You need sleep. You-"

He noticed the big red forming bruise on my arm, where Travis had grabbed me.

"What's that?" He asked.

I pulled my arm away, and snuggled into his chest, still sitting in his lap. "Nothing." I muttered.

He took my arm back, examining it.

"He did this, didn't he?"

"No."

"You're lying. These are finger marks, Madeline. What happened?"

"I don't remember. I'm drunk."

"Madeline!"

"Please don't yell." I said, beginning to cry. I cried harder into his chest. Jesus Christ, I was so drunk.

Luke's face immediately dropped, and softened.