First//Luke Hemmings

Chapter 22

I woke up with a pounding headache. I was sprawled across Jacks bed, my heels still attached to my feet. I sat up really slowly, placing my hand on my forehead. My head was spinning, and I felt like my brain was going to explode. I could barely remember any of the events that had happened during the night, all I remember was Luke being there. I pulled off my shoes and wobbled over to Jacks bathroom. I closed the door, and looked up at the bathroom. I looked like a wreck. There were dark black streaks running down my face from my makeup. My usually wavy red hair was a giant frizzy mess and resembled a lion’s mane.

I sighed as I turned on the sink, splashing my hands with water. I grabbed the small glass at the side of the sink and filled it with the tap water. I drank the water slowly, letting the cool liquid run down my throat. I placed the cup back down and bent closer to the sink, splashing some water on my face. Once my face was wet, I patted it dry with a towel.

I looked in the mirror, and gasped, dropping the towel. Suddenly the events of the previous night crashed into me, and I leaned against the sink. I through a fit. I through a fit and broke up with Luke. I’m an idiot. There’s a reason why I never get drunk, I turn into an idiot. The last time I was this drunk was in the 9th grade, and I threw up all over this guys shoes. Ever since then I swore I would never get drunk, I guess that plan was shot to hell.

I walked out of the bathroom, desperate to find my phone and fix things with Luke. I grabbed my shoes and ran downstairs, finding Jack sprawled across his couch, my purse by his head.

I grabbed my purse and pulled out my phone, dialing Luke’s number.

“Hey this is Luke. Sorry you missed me, please leave a message and I’ll call you back,” Luke’s voicemail said.

“Luke, it’s Zoey. I know you’re probably pissed but please call me, we really need to talk. I’m sorry, bye. Don’t forget to call me,” I said into the phone.

I slipped on my shoes and shuffled out of Jacks house, walking to the bus stop.

☆☆☆

I quietly closed the door to my house and tiptoed up to Holden’s room. He was lying on his bed, reading a book. I cleared my throat while I stood in his doorway.

Holden looked up from his book and his eyes widened at the sight of me.

“Zoey you look like a train wreck, are you alright,” he said, setting his book down.

“No, I fucked up,” I said, tears forming in my eyes.

“What did you do?” he asked, patting the space on the bed next to him.

I sat down and hugged my brother, burying my face into his shirt.

“I broke up with Luke, on accident,” I said into his shirt.

“And why did you do that?” he asked, putting his hand on my back.

“I got really drunk last night. I was just upset because of dad and the whole trip and I just needed to forget it. But I was so drunk and emotional I broke up with him,” I cried.

“Well just explain that to him Zoey,” he said.

“I tried, but he didn’t pick up the phone. I just made such a big mistake,” I said, sitting back and wiping my eyes.

“Maybe give him some time, he must be really upset,” Holden said.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” I said standing from Holden’s bed.

“Good, you smell disgusting,” he laughed.

I stuck my tongue out and stood by Holden’s door, turning back to him.

“Holden…um…thanks,” I smiled, shutting the door behind me.

☆☆☆

I finished braiding my wet hair and adjusted my sweatpants. While in the shower, I decided that once I was done I would try to call Luke again.

I dialed his number and put the phone to my ear, hoping that he would pick up. Straight to voicemail, again.

“Damn it,” I sighed, throwing my phone back on my bed.

I lay and looked at my phone, anger running through me. I wasn’t just going to let Luke get away with not talking to me; I wasn’t going to let him go this easy.

☆☆☆

Luke’s POV

My phone rang, Zoey’s number illuminating my screen. I grabbed my phone and pressed the disconnect button. I wasn’t going to talk to her, especially not now. If I heard her voice, I would probably start crying. I knew this relationship wasn’t going to last very long, she was too good for me. She was probably only going out with me because of pity, I was a loser after all. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my eyes, which were still wet with tears. I was being such a baby about all of this, but she was my first girlfriend, these things are supposed to be hard to get over.

I kept trying to distract myself from any memory. It’s difficult of course. Whenever major things end, all people seem to remember are the best moments. My mind is currently running through a highlight real of our brief relationship, Zoey and Luke’s greatest hits. I would try and read and the memory of her passionately describing The Catcher in the Rye would come to mind. I would try and watch TV but all I could focus on was the image of her curled on my bed, marathoning Breaking Bad with me. Every activity that I could possibly do to distract myself would resurrect this minute memory of the two of us.

After trying for hours to distract my self, I just returned to my room and lay on my bed. I looked out the window and saw great white puffs of snow falling from the sky. It was the first snow of the year, which was exceedingly late for Michigan. I was always fascinated by snow, having not grown up with it in Australia. Since I moved here, I always made a big deal about the first snow. It was always the happiest day of the year for me.

How ironic, the worst day of this year happened to correspond with the best day. I wanted to be upset, I was mad that Zoey had ruined the snow for me. She ruined this day, and though I wanted to furious and curse her out, I couldn’t. It was like she had put some spell on me or something, as cheesy as that sounds. I was suddenly snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a pounding on the front door. I stood from my bed, walking to the door. My dad had gone to the grocery store about half an hour ago, he must have forgotten his keys. I opened the door, and froze in the doorway. Zoey was standing in front of me in a pair of sweatpants and a thin sweater. Her wet hair was pulled back and covered in snow. She looked at me, her green eyes piercing me.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” she said, her teeth chattering from the cold.

I just stood silently, too stunned to speak. She suddenly leaned in and grabbed my face. She pulled me down to her and she placed her freezing lips onto me. A familiar feeling of warmth spread through my body, and I regained my ability to move. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, trying to warm her up. She pulled back and looked at me, a smile appearing on her face.

“You should come inside because we really need to talk,” I said, tucking a strand of her hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear.

She nodded, and I grabbed her hand, pulling her into the house.