Luke.
After eating in the pizza parlor with October, I felt something inside of me flicker. I had found out about her parents, feeling an automatic dislike towards them, which felt wrong. But how could someone possibly try and lock out her, her thoughts and theories and beliefs or just her in general? How could someone possibly shut out a girl like October, and replace everything in that smart, little head of hers with something else? What kind of a person does that?
And what a shallow of a person her dad was. Clearly she had something else planned out, and yet he still failed to see how miserable she became, but having to play nice and acted polite. And that was one of the things I admired about her. The way she thought of everyone before herself. Hell, she could probably end up in a hospital bed, dying, or something, and still ask you if you were okay or how your day was. Though I don't like the thought of that.
I sat on my bed in my room, my back against the headboard and my journal resting on my thighs. I hadn't seen her in three days, and the last time was on Thursday when she asked me if she could kiss me. And I wanted to, I really fucking wanted to. But I didn't know why I rejected her. Did I trust her? Yes, I did. I practically told her my life story. I knew she wouldn't leave, I did. But I guess it was just a natural instinct my body made that I had little control of, that if I got too close, I'd get attached, and they'd leave.
She's not going to leave, fuck, stop thinking like that, I scolded myself. I really didn't want it to be such a big deal, I just needed the right amount of courage. I didn't even know what we were at this point, but I'm not going to say anything. For now, at least.
'She's a good girl,' I wrote in my journal, a little absentmindedly, I couldn't help but write about her; I had to.
'She's daddy's favourite,
He's saved for Harvard,
He knows she'll make it.' I added before thinking, then writing again.
'Because every night she studies hard in her room,
At least that's what her parents assume.'
"Art," I beam to myself, "She likes art."
I heard a knock on my door, responding a quick 'come in', having Ashton peep his head through my door. "Hey man, we're ordering pizza. What do you want?"
"No thanks," I declined. "Had some for dinner yesterday. You and Calum enjoy yourselves, though."
"You went out, and ate pizza?"
I shrugged and nodded nonchalantly, thinking Ash would leave when I was wrong, he opened the door and walked in, sitting on my bed with a smile on his face. "Alright," he started, "Who is it?"
"Uhm, who's who?" I replied as calm as possible. He was onto me.
"You know who, man." His American accent hinted with amusement, slapping my knee. "Who's the girl?"
I didn't reply right away, quite impressed with how fast he caught on, my silence adding to his flame as he slapped my shoulder causing me to wince. "Stop hitting me, damn it."
"All right, all right, sorry." he surrendered, putting his hands up in the air. "No need for a name. For now. That's the first time you've eaten out in forever, dude. Like, in an actual restaurant. She must be something special then, yeah?"
I looked up at him and smiled, colour rising to my cheeks as I nodded shyly. He bro'd (which I didn't understand why Americans did so) and fist bumped me. "When do Cal and I get to see her?"
