The Book Thief 》Hemmings A.U

13.00

           "LUKE, YOU NEED TO take this seriously. You've already screwed up most of the opportunities I've lined up for you, but do your best not to skip this. Because I promise you that if you don't get your arse there today, we'll find out. The repercussions will not be enjoyable. And another thing,"

        I am jolted awake by the booming voice, malicious and cruel and full of a hatred almost palpable. I can only imagine the types of things the voice said before I woke up. Because I don't want to interrupt the conversation for fear of being yelled at myself, I keep my body still and breathing even. I open my eyelids only slightly so that I can see through them, but not enough to make my consciousness noticeable. The owner of the voice, the man, is Mr. Hemmings. Why would he be yelling at Luke? "Tell your playthings to stop sleeping over. The walk of shame really hurts your mum."

         "She's not a plaything, it's Kendall. Don't talk shit about things you don't know." Luke bites back, rolling his eyes.

          "I don't really care who it is son, just get her out of the house. If you're going to sleep around, make it a little less obvious. And maybe if you focus more on your brain than your dick, figuring out where you're going to college won't be such a problem." He snarls, slamming the door shut when he exits.

          "Fucking asshole," Luke grumbles, tugging at his hair. His eyes flicker over to me and quickly, I shut my eyes completely. But not quick enough. "I know you're awake, Cohen. I saw your eyes and besides, no one can sleep through his yelling." He sighs, crossing the room and sitting at the edge of the bed. Because I have already been caught, I open my eyes completely and offer him a small smile as I sit up.

          "Sorry," I murmur, tucking a strand of wild bed head behind my ear.

          "Don't be. He's the one who came back from Australia just to tell me what a fuck up I am before the year’s over. Wonder what he actually does on those business trips." He grumbles, pushing his feet into a pair of black socks.

              Within the duration of Lucy and I's friendship, I had only ever seen Mr. Hemmings twice. Once, when Liz's mother passed away and he attended the funeral for moral support. And the second, right here and now where he yelled at Luke for who knows what. I got the impression that he wasn’t the best father, as he spent most of his time in another country instead of by his family. He missed doctor’s appointments, birthdays, holidays, school games, anything that would seem monumental to his children. Lucy told me that when she and Luke were born, he stuck around for a solid six years. After that, he flew off to Australia for so called business meetings, but the twins suspected that there was more to the story. Despite Mr. Hemmings being an absentee in the life of his children, he dutifully supported his wife. Every time I slept over the Hemmings household, he called or video chatted Liz when he woke up and she was on the verge of sleep (time zones kill). He had yet to fail, so I guess he got some kind of props in that department. In everything else though...he kind of sucked.

          I wasn’t in the best position to judge, really, but from Lucy’s tellings and my witnessing what he just said to Luke, I could make my own assumptions. Mr. Hemmings was a dick.

             "So, I lied about taking you to school," Luke admits, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth.

             “Luke, you can’t just-” I start, voice borderline ballistic as I lean forward, green eyes bulging and lips falling into a stern frown. He nods slowly holds out his hand, silently asking me to stop rambling. I purse my lips and comply, only because he still seems so phased from his encounter with his father.