nova // l.h. (on hold)

02 // black eyed

On Friday, December twentieth, Luke boarded the bus with no energy whatsoever. He kept telling himself that it was the last day before winter break, but he wasn't excited. That was because he had to work that night, and that meant he couldn't stake out at the library until it's ten o'clock closing and watch for the purple-haired beauty.

Taking his seat in the back of the bus, Luke stretched out his legs clad in the goldish-yellow basketball sweats that read Mulgrove Greyhounds. Luke never thought too positively about that mascot. He would rather be the Mulgrove Gladiators or the Mulgrove Gators or even the Mulgrove Grovers. But no, he was a Mulgrove Greyhound.

Within seconds, the bus pulled up to the familiar stop close to the dark and scary Clifford residence. Overall, the Clifford's weren't scary at all. Some people, unlike the Hemmings', were too quick to judge. Judging by their house and looks, they may look scary. The Clifford family was probably the nicest family you could meet in the neighborhood, though.

Tall, broad-shouldered Michael entered the bus, passing the underclassmen on the way back. He grunted as he sat, scratching his head as he put his backpack down on the seat.

"Everything alright?" asked Luke, crossing his arms. He noticed that Mike wore sunglasses even though it was cloudy as hell outside.

Shrugging his shoulders, Michael removed his sweatshirt and set it atop his backpack. His plain white t-shirt nearly matched his skin tone, since he was so pale. He had a purple bruise just barely hidden by his short sleeve on his shoulder, and many more on his torso. "Had a rough night," he responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you hungover?" joked Luke, playing a game on his phone.

Michael chuckled before pulling off his sunglasses, revealing his black eye. Luke's face fell and his eyes widened as he leaned forward to get a better look.

"What the hell, Michael?" whispered Luke, sitting back as the bus stopped for the third time. "Who did that?"

"That doesn't matter," Michael muttered in response as he put the glasses in a pocket of his backpack. In all honesty, Mike didn't want Luke to know.

Glaring at the beaten boy, Luke narrowed his eyes. "You need to tell me," he ordered in a caring way. Luke cared about Michael, since he was one of the only people Luke talked to. Mike was one of the most genuine people Luke had met in a long time.

"Collin Bradford got me after work last night."

Luke's face couldn't fall anymore, but it would've. Collin Bradford was the captain of the basketball team. He wasn't gonna lie, Collin could be a dick sometimes. But beating people up? It was hard to believe for Luke.

"Why?" he asked in shock. The bus was still far away from the school.

Shrugging his shoulders again, Michael looked out the window before continuing. "Because I'm not like him. He was obviously high and he had just gotten off work at the pizza place down the street. I guess I just looked vulnerable."

"Not everybody's gonna be like him," Luke muttered, frowning and sighing. He truly felt terrible for Michael.

Mike laughed, running a his fingers over the swollen bruise. "It's not a big deal."

Luke thought it was a big deal, though. Collin had his head so far up his ass that he couldn't see the good in people. Michael wasn't like Collin; Michael was nice. Personally, Luke felt guilty for Collin's terrible deed. He felt like he should've been looking out for Michael, since Mike was his only real friend other than Calum.

The rest of the bus ride was silent, and they all departed from the bus when it arrived at the big high school. Stopping at his locker at the beginning of the day, Luke was crammed between Kara Monroe and Trevor Pollock. Quickly, he retrieved his books for the first half of the day and put them in his backpack. The moment he stepped away from his locker, people filled in the crammed space and his locker was hidden. This school needs bigger halls, thought Luke.