The Book Thief 》Hemmings A.U

16.00

     LUCY'S SPARE HAND brushes against the bottom of her dress, where she plays with the material again and again, like some kind of a nervous tick. We were nearing the end of Febuary, and the weather lately --especially last fucking night-- didn't really call for dresses that reached mid thigh, nor did prestigious college campuses. But Lucy hated pants, and tried to wear them as little as possible.

     "A piercing, what else would it be?" Luke replies, rolling his eyes as he exits his car, long legs awkwardly stretching out in front of him. He waits for me to get out too, which like usual takes way too long, before he locks the doors. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" Lucy ignores him and turns to face me, arching a blonde brow.

    "Kens...is he holding your family hostage? Raid your book shelf? Trash your closet, threaten to steal your classics? What's going on?" She starts, unable to belief why on earth I would willingly spend time with her brother. But she didn't know that it wasn't actually willingly.

     "Uhm," I start, habitually pulling my bottom lip into my mouth as I comb through my mind, trying to come up with a good excuse. The truth was obviously off of the table, but my mind was clear of any and all possible lies. She said again, which implied that she remembered our drunken escapade, but maybe she was too sleepy to remember it clearly. Yet. I glance at Luke from the corner of my eye and he gives me a warning look, almost daring me to tell Lucy the truth. For fear of my story in his possession, I keep quiet.

     "She saved your ass last night, had to talk about some family shit and you weren't home. She stayed over so mum wouldn't flip about you sneaking over, heard we were coming up to Duke and wanted to come along. Dean didn't say anything about me being late, did he?" Luke shrugs, trying to keep his voice clear through the partial swollenness of his lip. I breathe a sigh of relief, because I had no idea what to say. I don't know if Lucy's buying it or not, because her blue eyes thin into slits as she looks between the two of us, pursing her lips.

     "I'm sorry, had a booty call with one of the soccer players. I would have never gone if I knew you needed me, what happened?" She lowers her voice, stepping closer to me and holding her hand out, ready to offer a comforting touch. She believes us.

     "We can talk later, and it's okay, don't worry about it." I lie, forcing a smile. It wasn't okay, not really. I didn't know how to deal with anything that was happening and she was the only person I wanted to talk to. I knew that she had a life outside of me, I just wished that things would have worked out a little differently. But she looked genuinely apologetic, guilty even, and there was no reason for me to make her feel worse. We could talk about my crumbling life later. It wasn't going anywhere, thanks to Luke.

     "Lucy, don't fucking talk about booty calls in front of me," Luke grumbles, disgust lacing his features as he shakes his head. "Ridiculous," He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking ahead, on his way to the entrance.

     "You sure everything's okay?" I hum in response to her question and smile again, to which she finally stops staring at me in doubt, nodding in agreement and wrapping her arm around my waist comfortingly. We follow Luke up the walkway, who looks lost in thought. I wonder why he hasn't told Lucy that their dad is back home, or why he wants to keep what happened this morning a secret. But I'm not in the position to say anything, so I keep my mouth shut, and trust that he knows what he's doing. "I scored us an invite to a frat party later, so after the tour, we can talk about whatever's bothering you, and then drink our problems away." That explained the bright pink flyer now tucked into her bra, safely hidden away. Girls like Lucy had people flock towards them in seconds. They didn't have to try to stand out, they just did.

     I sometimes wished that I could be like her, that maybe things would feel much more exhilarating and less stressful, but I always abandoned the idea. I was like this for a reason, and that was okay. Hoping and wishing to be someone else wasn't going to get me anywhere but stuck in a rut of misery, and that was the last thing I wanted.