airports // 5sos au

vii.

(luke)

I sit at the brown granite bar in the kitchen. I'm watching my Mom make her make homemade hamburgers for dinner tonight. She carefully forms the sections hamburger meat into small patties, places them onto a plate, then hands them to my Dad for him to grill. She then prepares her favorite garden salad as she waits for the french fries to finish cooking in the oven.

"How do I make someone more comfortable around me?" I ask suddenly.

"What?" She stammers and accidentally drops her salad tossers onto the tile floor.

"How do I make someone more comfortable around me?" I repeat, resting my face on my fisted hands.

"Like, how? Do you mean, like, physically comfortable around you?"

"Oh, geez, no! I didn't mean it that way...." I cringe and bury my face in my palms, "I guess like mentally comfortable around me."

"Oh, well you can't really make somebody comfortable. However, you can show them that you can be trusted. Show them that they don't need to be wary of you, I guess."

I nod in understanding.

"Why do you ask, sweetheart?" She hands me the bowl of salad to place onto the dinner table.

"Well, Emily, the girl I'm tutoring, is like really unsure of me. I don't know what it is about her, but I can read her easily. I can tell when she's upset or stressed, even when she's not showing it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and the freaky part about it is that we've only been in each other's company for an hour and a half," I say as I set the salad bowl on the table.

"That's interesting, Luke."

"Yeah, it's weird, right?"

"You know what they say about people whom who you can easily read."

"No, what?" I slide my hands into my jean pockets.

"They say you can easily read their emotions and thoughts because they're the book that you've been destined to read."

"You're saying that I can read her easily because she's my soulmate or something?"

"I didn't say anything, they did."

"Who the hell are they?" I throw my hands up in exasperation.

•••••

I wake up around nine o'clock and ignore the butterflies in my stomach. I stand up and run my fingers through my blonde hair.

My plan could either work like a charm, or it could completely wrong.

Trying not to think about the negative possibilities, I put on my navy Led Zeppelin t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and all-black converse high tops. It's not what I normally wear to meet people from school, but it's what I normally wear when I go out, so I decide to wear what I'm comfortable with.

I go to my bathroom and brush my teeth, wash my face, and put product in my hair to create a nice quiff. I twist my lip ring with anxiety as I take a deep breath.

I don't ever do stuff like this.

"There's a first time for everything." I quietly remind myself. I rub my hands together and walk downstairs.

"I'm going to be out for most of the day, is that okay?" I ask my Mom.

"Of course, are you going to be with friends?"

"Hopefully," I say and begin to walk towards the door.

"You stop right there, Luke Robert Hemmings."

"What?" I turn around. My Mom never calls me by all three names.

"What do you mean 'hopefully'?"

"Sorry, Mom, I was trying to be interesting. You know how people do that in the movies and such? They leave with vague answers hinting to what they want to come out of the situation they're about enter?" I rub the back of my neck.

"Explain?"

"'Mom, I really have to go.."

"If you want a prayer of going, you're going to explain."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm going to meet with Emily. She's really stubborn and I want to show her that I can be trusted, just like you said last night."

"Okay then, you can go," my Mom smiles.

I give her a nervous smile and walk out to my car.

Ten long minutes later I'm pulling into the driveway in front of Emily's house.

"You can do this, Luke. You've got this," I remind myself mentally as I walk up to the door.

"I got it!" A female voice shouts from inside. Panicking, I look down to my hand, where my finger is touching the doorbell.

Oh fuck, I mentally face palm.

"How may I help- Luke?" Emily stands before me in a large hoodie and grey pajama shorts.

"Um, hey, I was in the neighborhood and I decided to say hi."

"Really?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, no. I came to ask you to spend the day with me."

"Why would I do that?" She asks with a serious expression on her face.

That's better than a mocking expression, I applaud in my mind.

"Well, I was thinking if I'm going to be your tutor, then we should probably not feel as awkward as we are together. It may ease the process."

"Why don't I come outside so we can talk about this whole tutoring thing?" She offers, looking up at me.

"Um, sure."

She nods and walks past me, closing the door as she does so.

"So, how do you think this is going?"

"I honestly didn't think I'd make it this far.." I chuckle.

"Not about right now, about the tutoring situation." She sits down on the white wooden porch swing. She gestures for me to sit on the cushioned chair in front of the swing, and I sit.

"Oh, well if I'm being completely honest, I know that you don't want to go through with it, but I promise I'm only trying to help you."

"That's the thing, I don't want your help."

"I think deep down you know that you need help and that scares you, so you built up a wall against me," I say.

"I'm not scared of your help, I just know that I don't want it."

"Why won't you let me help you?" I run a hand through my hair.

"I don't want a stranger to tell me what I suck at. I didn't ask for it and I don't want it," She runs her fingers through her long, wavy brown hair, "and not to be rude, but why are you here anyway?"

"You keep saying that you don't want a stranger to tell you what you suck at," I look directly into her green eyes.

"What's your point, Hemmings?" She sits up straight and narrows her eyes.

"I'm here to not be a stranger."