M For Moscow

08 | my lena-moment

"Oh, Lena! My cobble to my stone, my window to my pane, my chalk to my board, my—"

She raised her hand. "Just stop. What did you do?" she questioned, peering so deep into the camera I thought her eye might pop out.

I didn't think this through. "It's a long story."

"So, tell me. I've got time." she replied, biting a large chunk of her chicken sandwich with extra raisins in the middle and the label 'MINE!' on top of it. "You know, since you left me."

I rolled my eyes at her comment, but did what she asked. We hadn't called since the day I called about my new job so it was a lot of stuff I had to catch her up on, like Karina's madhouse of an office building or Karina's fluid diet plan that everyone had to go on at least five times a week (receptionists included) or even Karina's hundred and one tips on having a healthy body and drinking water wasn't an option. All things job-related, of course. Lena nodded her head uninterested until the part of Luka came out and suddenly, she had the ears of a bat.

"You did what?"

Through the video call, Lena folded forwards, hands on her stomach, as she cackled away, the kind of reaction I was hoping not to get but expected.

I gave her a good five minutes to get it out of her system before asking for advice.

She tossed the sandwich wrapper somewhere past the screen that I'd imagine was an empty space on her bedroom floor where the bin should've been. Then, she locked her fingers together into a ball and spoke as dramatic as Lena could be.

"Well, I don't think there's anything you can do."

This was my Lena-Moment? Coming from the girl who once said the solution to getting free burgers was making out with the deli guy instead of stamp tickets.

"Don't give me that face. Look, you need a job therefore you need Karina, no matter how bossy and misogynistic she can be. And Luka? It'll be one of the stories you guys tell your kids ten years from now."

I contemplated what she said, hating each word with every fire inside of me except for the last part. That part had a slightly different effect on me, something positive and almost... hopeful.

But I buried that feeling six feet under.

"So," I finally said, "I should just do nothing?"

"Not, nothing. Be the super sexy Anya I saw in her polka dot bikini and bumblebee wings and snag the cover of Moscow Monthly." she exclaimed, referring to the only baby picture of me on the cabinet back home.

"Bumblebee Anya was a one-time thing." I whispered, hoping Luka wouldn't hear my real name.

Lena caught the hint. "So, do I start calling you Macy now because I don't totally like it."

I rolled her eyes at her. "Well, I do."

"You got it, Maize," she shot me a wink, "I've got to go. Nika is binge-watching Locke & Key without me and I need me my daily dose of Griffin Gluck. Lena-out!"

I waved her goodbye before shutting my laptop and staring out the window absentmindedly. A knock came from the door, supposedly Luka, and I called for him to enter, only remembering after that we had a fight and weren't talking.

He finally wore a shirt. Well, it was a singlet but it counted.

Still, I refused to look at him. I pushed my laptop to the end of my bed and collapsed on the pillow, turning away from where he stood under the doorway.

I heard footsteps to the other side of the bed. Then, a slight pause before Luka dropped himself beside me so that we were staring at each other, but not in the romantic way you'd see in movies.

I was glaring at him.

"Dare to show your face?" I did my best to trash-talk.

He considered the reality of my threat before lying on his back and folding his hands behind his back.

"Nope." he replied truthfully, making me crack a smile.

Damn it. I tried hiding it.

"Then what are you doing?" I tested the water.

Luka clicked his tongue, something I found to be another bad habit of his. "I'm staring at the ceiling and thinking about how high it is, just as high as my guilt for teasing you."

"That doesn't sound like an apology." I retorted, turning to face the ceiling too.

"I was getting there." he mumbled, looking over at me.

My eyes met his, signalling for him to go on.

"I'm sorry for making fun of you... but you just make it so fun and so, so, so easy!"

"Luka!" I yelled, punching him hard enough for it to hurt just a little bit.

The boy overreacted. He made a wincing face and hold onto his shoulder as if it was about to fall off. Suddenly, and as if he had just remembered something, his fake tears disappeared and an evil grin replaced it.

"Wha—"

I only made out a syllable when Luka jumped on top of me, reached under my shirt and started tickling me. Unable to protest, I tried wiggling out of his grasp but his lower body was surprisingly strong enough to pin me down.

"S-stop. Luka, please." I begged in between fits of laughter.

Also surprising, he actually did stop.

Luka placed his hands on his hips and pinched the top of his nose so his voice would be different.

"Now, do you, Miss Macy Rhodes, forgive me, Luka Emerson Gold?"

Playfully, I pretended that I was thinking really hard about my answer. "Well..."

His hands flew under my shirt again as I screamed in defeat.

"Okay, okay! I forgive you." I told him, breathless but with a toothy grin spread across my face. "Emerson, huh?"

Still not getting off me, he chuckled while shaking his head. "It's a family tradition: every first boy gets that middle name. It started with my British grandpa, Jack Emerson Gold, before being passed onto my father and then to me, the first and only son."

He said it like it was the proudest thing he had ever accomplished.

"Well, that's very sweet." I admitted, propping my head up with my elbows. "Do you wish you had a brother?"

Luka shook his head again. "No, not really. Trust me when I say that Karina — she's more than enough."

***

Aw I really, really adore this two!

The story is going exactly like I hoped. You know, sometimes I get so disappointed and end up hating everything but this story I actually like.

Thank you for reading as always, y'all are my ch-ch-ch-idkhowmanychs-cherrybomb!

Lots of love,
Mel