Yours, truly

Chapter 2.

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Luke

I was late, I was so late.

It would be my luck to oversleep, leaving me rushing at 8:56 a.m. on a Monday. School was about to start in four minutes and I was trying to make it out the door.

I was in the bathroom and my eyes were still sleepy as they struggled to keep open. My white shirt was half on me, hanging around my neck while I tried to brush my teeth with one hand and my other one was tying my shoes. I stumbled with my foot on the toilet tying the laces together.

Sean, my fifteen-year-old brother was shouting at me from downstairs waiting for me to take him and Amelia, my younger sister, to school.

Another voice interrupted them as it came from my mother, who was woken by the shouting circling through the house.
"Luke?" She exclaimed. "Did you oversleep again?"

My mum recently started working later, so as a result, she was always tired of waking up early to take Sean and Amelia to school. I offered to take them but I was starting to regret that decision. My time management skills weren't up to par.

Mum owns her own company. She sells women's body products and some sort of scrub things.
She's always in the garden sniffing brightly coloured dahlias and gardenias trying to find the next new scent for her body washes.

I finished half-tying my shoe and stupidly attempted to pull my shirt over my head still brushing my teeth.
"No!" I shouted back but it was muffled as I poked my head through the shirt hole.

Obviously, that was a lie.

Toothpaste splattered onto the mirror and right down the front of my white shirt. Fuck.

Quickly rubbing it off and finishing up, I ran my hand through my hair attempting to look half presentable for the outside world.

The benefit of playing soccer for most of my life was that I was in pretty good shape. I appreciated my brunette hair and facial features I acquired from my parents, in particular my Dad, who apparently I looked very much like.

Rae was always admiring my features and saying how I should get out there and find a girl but in my mind that wasn't much of a reality.
It was coming up to the end of our Senior year and I had zero interest in anyone.
I knew she meant these things as I compliment but I usually just laughed to avoid facing her attempt to match-make.

My wardrobe was not the most exotic or stylish in the world. Rae would also love to say how much I lacked a sense of style. She's perfectly rebranded Austin to his liking with her fashion advice and always attempts to do the same with me. But in the winter and spring, my wardrobe usually abided on my singular pair of worn not-so-white sneakers followed up with a t-shirt and sweats. Or my soccer jumper.

You wouldn't catch me wearing anything else unless I was training or going to a formal event. At training, it was my branded soccer gear and my football boots.

As I hurried down the stairs swinging my bag on my back and my keys in my other remaining hand, I muttered apologies to Mum as I practically ran out the door.

She smiled warmly and chuckled to herself. Her short hair bounced and smile lines showed as she did. My mum was never one to give out to us unless it was something really bad.
She didn't like the idea of being strict. Whenever we got shouted at as kids Mom would always be the good cop and take us out for ice cream or give us extra TV time.
The worst she'd do is ground us.
At that thought, I began remembering the time Sean broke her expensive vase with his basketball and how she didn't care. The only thing she worried about was if he was hurt, which was very typical of her.