the next week, luke was in the gym again. the same jocks mucking around with a basketball and the same girls giggling and swooning over them.
luke often dreamt that he was a popular guy; one that didn't send girls in the opposite direction. a guy that gave swirlies rather than received them. but he wasn't. he a was a dorky loser, with no official tag. he was the unknown kid that had locker 312 and wore unfortunate green sunglasses.
but enough about the boy.
how about the girl he was watching, for the nineteenth week in a row? what was her name? her purpose?
she had the same sketchbook, as most wednesdays. this week, something was different with her. she has a bandage around her left forearm. luke had no idea what it was. he was, of course, curious. her anorak was pulled up to see maybe half of the bandage.
how tempting it was for luke, to go and ask her. but he didn't want the first time they spoke to be him asking a nosy question.
the girl took the lip piercing in her teeth and looked up. she scanned the sweat-scented gymnasium, and her eyes settled on luke for, possibly, six seconds. she raised her right eyebrow for a split second and tore her eyes away from him.
luke became flustered. she had not once noticed him - to his knowledge, anyway - in all the nineteen times he had been here.
"hey," a male voice behind luke said, causing luke to jump. "didn't mean to scare ya mate,"
"oh, uh, you didn't, uh," muttered luke, quite hopelessly. he didn't really recognise the lanky boy that had plopped himself beside luke on the bleachers.
"you jumped," the boy argued. his features were quite babyish, but he was at least 6 foot tall. he looked possibly asian, maybe kiwi. his dark hair was swept across his tanned forehead. he wore denim jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. on his feet were grey and white, chunky running shoes. "anyways, i'm calum."
"hey, uh, i'm... luke," our protagonist replied.
"you don't seem sure. in fact, maybe you aren't. you look like a sean to me, actually," calum observed. he smiled weakly when luke didn't laugh at the odd sense of humour he just showed off.
"i'm luke," luke said firmly.
"okay, okay!" calum laughed and looked away from luke, out over the basketball court. "faggots," he mumbled darkly, when a jock scored a shot.
"yeah, they are," luke slowly agreed.
"so, what are you then?"
"what do you mean?"
"why the hell are you here? you don't look all that athletic and you're not a pervert girl or a cheerleader - i hope - or a weird artsy, punk type like that weirdo chick over there," calum said.
"she's not weird!" luke protested, before he could stop himself.
"oh, do you know her? is she your girlfriend?" calum's questions were starting to piss luke off.
"no."
"no to which?"
"no for both."
"hm, okay. do you have the hots for her? she's quite cute," calum elbowed luke.
"no! that's weird," luke lied, biting his lip - a habit picked up years ago from high school stress.
"well... i'll just go ask her out, then," calum grinned.
"no, you can't do that!" luke whisper yelled, without thinking.
"ha! you do fancy her. okay, why don't you talk to her? is she too punk rock for you? hm, you should talk to her. although, she might be a bit out of your league. oh well, see you around, sean."
"okay. and it's luke."
"i know."
