Make it Stop ⇼ Luke Hemmings

Twenty-One.

We had just gotten out of school, and before we hung out at his house, Luke dragged me to the gas station to get unhealthy snacks and ice cream, in attempt to make me feel better. As I was in a shitty mood already, he had me wait in the car. After about two minutes, my irritability and horrible mood got the best of me, and I flicked off the radio that played the same five pop songs over and over, searching for Luke’s cd’s. I grabbed the first one I saw, an Arctic Monkeys one, and popped it in, glancing up and into the nearly vacant store. The clear windows had posters scattered along them—they made it easy to see Luke, but easier to not notice him. I’d usually look away, but I noticed him talking to someone. I couldn’t quite make out who it was, but after squinting and getting on the near edge of my seat, I saw it was Madison Brown.

 

The only, immediate thought that popped into my mind was that she was convincing him to come back to hers. That he was going to come back to the car, drop me off at home, and go fuck her senseless. And in hopes to subconsciously keep him with me, I unclasped my favorite necklace, and set it over his rearview mirror. I hoped he’d see it and smile and come back to me. Luke slammed the door as he got in the car, sighing loudly as he tossed the bag in the middle seat.

“What?” I mumbled. Somehow, despite my tendency to be a bitch toward Luke while I’m having a bad day, I’ve managed to be relatively calm with him.

“Madison Brown.” He hissed. “She’s such a bitch.” He looked back, backing out of his space and driving. “I don’t why she has to continue to fuck with me! Or you for that matter! What’s so fucking special about us that she can’t fucking stay away?!?!” He ranted as he drove, which made me nervous. He’s always reckless when he drives angry. “I hate her so fucking much!” He slammed a hand on the top of the steering wheel, causing me to jump.

“What did she say?” I cowered. I wasn’t afraid of him, I was just afraid he’s too angry to drive. “Do you want me to drive?” My question came out slow and weary.

“No.” He refused, and it came to me that he didn’t even notice my necklace hanging there. It couldn’t be that hard to see, maybe he’s just too mad.

 

“What did she say?” I repeated.

“The same fucking thing she always says.” He spat. “How we used to date, and she’d take me back.” He rolled his eyes.

“And what did you say?” I inquired.

“I told her I was with you.”

“Do you want her back?” He scoffed.

“No!” He exclaimed. “She’s such a whore and it fucking kills me how much she means to me and what I did for her and how much of a fucking waste of time-” Luke was cut off by screeching of brakes as he tried to force his car to an immediate stop. His arm flinging over my small body as somewhat of a protective instinct. I gasped, immediately losing my breath as the car jerked to a stop. “What the fuck!?!?!” Luke yelled, honking his horn as he slowly began to accelerate.

“Jesus Christ.” I muttered under my breath, trying to control both my breathing and erratic heartbeat.

“Shit. Fuck. Romy are you okay?” He rushed, grabbing my hand and squeezing gently.

“Fine.” I rasped, clearing my throat quietly, running my thumb over the back of his hand. Luke and I were silent for the rest of the ride, as we were both a bit shaken up, and just continued on to his house.

 

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