Make believe

Chapter 4

"I just don't understand why he hasn't called you yet."

I rolled my eyes and continued to read this month's 'Vogue' magazine.

"I don't know, Aubree. Maybe he's just not interested." It hurt a little to admit, but honestly, that might've been the case.

"Then why would he ask for your number? And open the door for you?" She paced my room. She seemed more torn up about the situation than me.

"And walk with you?" She paused. "I just don't get it."

"What's not to get? Honestly Aubree, you should've seen him; blonde hair spiked up, he was so tall, and his eyes..." I trailed off. "A guy like that has got to have a lot of options when it comes to girls. Honestly, I'm not all that upset about it."

I actually was.

"I barley even know him." I said, then added, "I don't even know his last name."

Of course, I had told Aubree all about him. The embarrassing incident of actual spilt milk at the grocery store; how he had held the door for me and that we had walked a little ways together.

I explained how amazingly awkward he was, and of course, I stressed to her how cute he was.

Then mentally stopped myself; I needed to stop thinking about him.

And Aubree, of course has not let the fact that he hasn't called me, go, and for the past 3 hours, she's been ranting on and on about a guy she doesn't even know.

She's used the word 'tease' and 'man whore' so many times in the last hour I think I'm going to be sick.

I reminded myself that this is just how she is; and she's just being a good friend.

But in all honestly, I just didn't want to think about it; let alone talk about it. After a while, we had gotten off the subject of Luke and just talked bout random things.

I was reading when I heard her ask,

"Where'd that jacket come from?"

I glanced over and saw Ashton's black, light jacket hanging on the doorknob to my closet.

"Oh-" I started. "It's a long story."

She gave me a look as of to say 'what are you waiting for? Go on.' And so I did. I grinned at the memory of his smile and sarcasm, and as I remembered these little details about Ashton, Aubree took in every word, absorbing every adjective; needless to say, we had gotten off the subject of Luke, but only to be out on the subject of Ashton.

* 2 days later*

Luke's P.O.V.

Sitting outside of ''Anna's Cafe", I sipped my smoothie and scrolled through twitter. I was alone and quite bored. America is quite different from Australia; I feel like I would've enjoyed myself more if the boys weren't so busy. Me and my three best friends had come to America to visit for the whole summer for vacation.

While they got caught up easily in the lifestyle and found things to fill thier days, I felt kind of awkward and a tad homesick.

I shifted uncomfortably in the metal seat. I though back to that day a few weeks ago; when I met that girl at the store. What was her name? Laraine. It was different. I liked it.

That day, I had a sudden boost in confidence as I talked to her. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed, still in plaid pajama shorts and some sports shirt. Her brown hair was up, showing off her blue eyes.

She walked with a sort of grace and self-respect. She had this essence about her, this calmness. The girl had seemed so laid-back.

Then I remembered the reason why we met. Laughing our loud, I remembered the look on her face as she dropped that carton of milk. I had already been watching her, actually. Her whole face turned pink, and she stood there, shocked, then came back to life and began apologizing to the people around her.

She looked so flustered and cute. I had wanted to call her that night, actually, but that would've seemed too eager, so I put it off. Then I put it off again. And again. That sudden burst of confidence was now gone, and in it's place, was a feeling for fear of the unknown. For fear of rejection. I don't even know how I felt, I just didn't call her.

I shook my head. I should've called her.

I still had her number in my phone.

Staring at my phone, I pondered what to do. What was holding me back? There was this unsettling, unseen force physically keeping me from calling her; or that's what I told myself. In reality, it was my blatant lack of unsurety about the outcome of the situation.

I stood up and began walking down the street and toward the apartment we were all sharing. Once again, I glared at my phone, and willed myself to dial her number.

It rang. It rang and rang, and eventually, I heard,

"Hello?"

I scratched the back of my neck and stopped walking.

"Heey!" I said, way to enthusiastically, I might add.

"Uh, hi?"

My faced flushed.

"Th-this is, uh, Luke. Luke Hemmings." Nice, Luke. There was a short pause, then "oh yeah! hey Luke."

I laughed, "Hahaha hey Laraine.' There was a moment of silence. "I didn't know if you'd remember me...I-"

"Of course I would." She interrupted. "You held the door open for me when I was struggling oh so much to carry the terribly awkward-shaped milk carton."

I heard her giggle on the other end. Laughing, I started to say something, but she was already talking again.

"And your one of the many who became crudely victimized at my expense when I spilled milk all over the floor...and your jeans." She said, causing me to blush.

Her voice lost it's sarcasm for a moment and softened.

"Sorry about that."

I neared the apartment. "No, no it's okay. It wasn't a big deal." She laughed. "I didn't even like those jeans."

"Oh," I could hear her smiling, "Well Luke, I'm glad to hear that."

I decided it was time to get to the point.

"So, I was wondering if you'd wanna do something."

There was silence.

"Something...like?"

"A movie." I said a little too fast. "Or dinner, or lunch...or whatever you'd like."

Again, a quietness filled the line. It felt like forever, holding the empty phone to my ear and unlocking the door to the apartment. Maybe I'm exaggerating, but it really did feel like too long a time for it to be seen as a good sign.

Then I heard,

"I'd love to."