runaway [l.h] book 2

1.2

[ l u k e ]

Who doesn't like fifa? How can Cody even talk to this boy. Yeah, well he's nice, and good-looking; no homo. And he plays the drums well. I'll just put our differences aside, I guess.

Once we reach the famous 'im only going to give Luke Hemmings 10 hours this week and 36 hours next week' store, we break up to get food like chips, and twinkies, and goods for practice and for Me and Cody.

I really like Cody, I do. She's the perfect girl for me. She had that 'I don't care' attitude, and I love her look, so grunge and beautiful. God, I can't be falling for her. I'm unable to fall in love.

"Luke! Let's go to a coffee shop I'm thirsty." Said Cody pointing at the nearest coffee shop. I shook my head signing turning into the coffee shop.

We walk in the coffee shop, to see a big crowd of people talking into a microphone. Oh, god. Poetry.

"Luke, I want to go up there." She said smiling. I said okay, and she ran up on the stage to say a poem.

"Now, the rules of this poetry slam, is you need to make up a poem. On the stop. So, go." Said the worker at the coffee shop.

"Oh, okay." Said Cody look at me.

She breathed in, closing her eyes. She grabbed the microphone tightly and opened her eyes. I smiled at her and nodded telling her to go.

"The first time I saw him,
Everything in my head went quiet." Said Cody looking right at me.

"All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared." She made hand gestures towards her head.

"When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don't really get quiet moments." She said looking at the other people as if she's having a conversation with them.

"Even in bed, I'm thinking:
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes." She said moving her head back and forth at each sentence.

"But when I saw him, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of his lips..
Or the eyelash on his cheek-
the eyelash on his cheek-
the eyelash on his cheek." She repeated, as if she is trying to make it perfect.

"I knew I had to talk to him." She looked back at me.

"I asked him out six times in thirty seconds." she said peppy.

"He said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going." She breathed in, as if she didn't breath for hours.

"On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or talking to him..
But he loved it." She smiled and everyone went in aw.

"he loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times at different times of the day."

"He loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk."

"When we moved in together, he said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely lock the door eighteen times."

"I'd always watch he mouth when he talked-
when he talked-
when he talked-
when he talked;
when he said he loved me, his mouth would curl up at the edges."

"At night, he'd lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off... And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off." She moved her finger up and down as if she's constantly turning on and off a light switch.

"he'd close his eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of him." She smiled closing her eyes.

"But then... he said I was taking up too much of him time."

"That I couldn't kiss him goodbye so much because I was making him late for work." She signed into the microphone.

"When he said he loved me, him mouth was a straight line." She closed her eyes.

"When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, he just kept walking." And she opened her eyes again. Her eyes were red.

"And last week he started sleeping at his mother's place."

"He told me that he shouldn't have let me get so attached to him; that this whole thing was a mistake, but..." she shook her head cringing her eyebrows.

"How can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch him?"

"Love is not a mistake, and it's killing me that he can run away from this and I just can't." She yelled.

"I can't go out and find someone new because I always think of him."

"Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars.."

"And he was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on."

"I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way he holds his steering wheel...
How he turns shower knobs like he opening a safe. How he blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out-...." She clenched her hands stopping herself.

"Now, I just think about who else is kissing him."

"I can't breathe because she only kisses him once-she doesn't care if it's perfect!" She yelled.

"I want him back so bad."

"I leave the door unlocked. I leave the lights on." Everyone gasped and snapped their finger.

She got off stage and smiled at me.

"That was amazing!" I said to her and smiled again. "Go up there!" She said pushing me on stage. I look at everyone. I close my eyes and trying to think of a poem.

"Sometimes, I feel as lonely as a street without houses." I walk off stage without a second thought. I heard the snapped of finger before I walk out of the coffee shop and get in the car with Cody behind me.

"What's wrong?"

"That sucked." I said to her.

{Poems: OCD by Neil Hilborn and anonymous}

You know who I feel like? Michael in Rollercoaster