stoical - l.h.

seventeen

❀❀

luke's point of view

The scratchy collar of my shirt chafes against my neck as I try to make myself look as presentable as possible. I hate this shirt with every cell in my body and would probably burn it if given the opportunity, but my mom says it makes me look nice and I suppose that's what I'm going for. Usually, my clothes are the one thing I refuse to change about myself. I will not purchase two-hundred dollar t-shirts I could get for two dollars and I won't buy something for its brand. Those two things are what typically make up the boys' style of this generation, and I refuse to stoop that low. No one usually cares, anyway, but I always try to make myself look like more of an asshole when I'm going to a party.

    I'm wearing a black button-up with my usual black skinny jeans. It isn't what everyone else wears, but baggy jeans get a strong no from me. I don't know what is about them, but they make me seriously not feel like myself. So I'm opting for this instead, and if anyone has anything to say about it, I'm willing to start a fight tonight. I'm feeling particularly awful and would surely feel much better if I got in a few punches on some idiot tonight.

    My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock at my bedroom door. I open the door to see my mother standing there, peeking inside the room. "Hey, Mom. What's up?"

    She looks me up and down quizzically. "You're going out?"

    Inside, I begin to freak out, even though this has happens loads of times. I'm used to it, though, and capable of keeping my face calm and neutral. "Yeah, just going to meet up with a few friends. Why?"

    Mom sighs and leans her head against the doorframe tiredly. She worked a long shift at the hospital today and I know she isn't looking forward to getting up as early as she must to go back tomorrow. "Luke, it is very late. I don't know how I feel about this."

    The difference about tonight happens to be that there sort of wasn't a way to avoid my mother finding out about me going out since the party is a bit far away and I need to leave earlier than usual. I feel my heart beating much too fast in my chest and it's a wonder I'm able to keep my voice steady when I speak.

    "I promise I'll be okay. We're just going to hang out. It isn't even that far," I assure my mother. I'm so nervous she'll forbid me from going, because then I will feel seriously terrible about sneaking out. I don't want that to happen.

    Mom looks at me for a few seconds, deliberating internally. Finally, she lets out another sigh and nods her head. "Okay, fine. But only because Calum is a very nice boy. That is who you're meeting with, right?"

    I hesitate for a moment before covering it up smoothly. "Oh, y-yeah. I'll be with Calum."

    My mom smiles at me briefly before reaching out and running her fingers through my hair, ruffling it up a bit. I try to avoid it, but she messes up my perfectly styled hair in a matter of seconds. "Mom!"

    She starts laughing gently. "Your hair is too high up! You look like a punk!"

    I groan, frantically shoving my hair back up as I stare in the mirror. "My hair is cool! All the ladies love it!"

    That just makes her laugh harder, which I have to say is a little insulting, but I know we're both just joking. She apologizes for messing up my hair. Before turning to walk away, she says. "You took your medicine today, right?"

    I nod my head. Lying through my teeth, I respond, "I took it this morning, just like I always do, Mother."

    She puts her hands up in defense, claiming she's only making sure I didn't forget. And then she's saying goodbye, telling me to be safe, and I shut my bedroom door when she's done talking. I look at myself in the mirror again and feel the everyday self-loathing that fills me to the brim after I tell a lie. But I tell so many lies in a day, I am never not filled with self-loathing. It is apart of me just like my legs and arms are apart of me. I cannot get rid of it.