the bucket list | lrh

17 - too easy to lose

During the two hour drive back to Elgin, the two young adults could hardly bring themselves to speak to each other. At some point Luke had turned the music to an extreme volume, trying to drown out the obsessive thinking he was burdened with.

Valentine didn't really mind the noise, she just wished he'd stop playing Arctic Moneys. The same album played twice before he changed it—to another album from the same band at least. She was growing tired of the gruff voice sounding through the speakers, though she was much too polite to mention it to him.

"Is Scout going to be mad?"

"Scout?" The girl questioned as she caught sight of her driveway. "Since when do you call him Scout?" The girl could hardly push the name past her lips without feeling anomalous. She certainly hadn't heard the man be called by that in years. He was simply her dad, she could easily forget he actually had a name.

"Well, you said I couldn't call him Mr. Leonard," Luke boasts proudly, relieved that he's finally managed to spark a conversation with the timid brunette.

"Scout makes him sound like a homie of yours." The language rolling off of her tongue was odd. It didn't quite suit her, and Luke noticed the way she struggled to use the slang.

"Okay fine. Is your dad gonna be mad?" Luke backtracked, having given up on trying to find a name to refer to the girls father as without her complaint.

"I mean... I don't think so? I asked him to go last night, and everything like that." Valentine couldn't really think of a reason that her father could have to be angry at her. She figured so at least, because he surely wouldn't be hearing about the way she had practically cuddled with the blonde throughout the entire night.

"I don't think he likes me," the boy shrugs, pulling into the girls driveway next to Scout's two-seater—he had truck suitable for family sized drives, though Scout had lost most of them anyways. He didn't really need the extra seats, and to be frank—it made him feel awful about himself.

"He doesn't like you." The girls tone was so matter of fact, Luke found himself wondering if he had even heard her correctly. "What?" He asked, eyes widened at her blunt remark. "Yeah, he doesn't. Not because of that, or whatever you're thinking. Just because you hang out with me, and he's a little protective."

"I guess we do hang out, don't we?" The question should've been a simple one, like Valentine was thinking. But for Luke it was much stranger to admit. He really had been willingly hanging out with Adeline's sister. And what's more? He really enjoyed it. He adored the way he could make her giggle like he hadn't heard in months, and he admired the way she made an effort to come out from her sheltered shyness, just to please Adeline's spirit.

"Yeah?" Valentine chuckled, reaching back to grab her bag.

"Sorry, just hard to comprehend sometimes," Luke shrugged, feeling a little silly for asking such a random question. Valentine didn't mind much though, she found the peculiar comments quite cute.

"I feel the same way. Like, you're Luke Hemmings. I practically hated you a month ago, and last night I let you drive me two hours to Houston to go to a concert that I most certainly didn't even want to go to. Isn't that a little crazy?" She knew she was mumbling, she just wanted to buy some more time in the boys company.

"Me? You hated me? Definitely not. I think I hated you, Valentine. Don't be mistaken. I thought you were revolting for years, just a little girl—" surely something she'd be offended by in any other situation—if she didn't already sense the sarcasm behind his words that is.

"And then last night I drove you to Houston for a concert that was lamer with you there—" another thing that would hurt her feelings had she not noticed the way he was inching closer, his body language having a story of its own.