leaked (l.h.)

32

I make my bed before he arrives, changing into a fresh t-shirt that hangs right at my mid-thigh and leggings. I brush my hair, pulling it on top of my head as I watch him approach my house from the street, and within a second or two I hear his footsteps come up the stairs. My family isn't home, so it's just him and I.

"I was expecting you to be in bed," Luke's voice fills the room as I spray perfume on my body to mask the scent of weed that has stuck to my sheets. 

"No," I look at him. "No, I thought I should at least clean myself up a bit. How are you feeling?" I walk over to my bed, seeing how he's got a greasy McDonald's bag in his hand. "Are you nervous?"

"Yeah," he says honestly, walking over to sit across from me on the bag. "So, so nervous. I mean, tonight tells me where I'll be in two months."

"Here," I respond, bringing my knees up to my chest as I wrap my arms around them. "With you band."

"I hope," he pulls out a sandwich and hands it to me. "I really think we have a shot, Grace. I mean, everyone says that." He rambles, pulling out one for himself and unwrapping the yellow wrapper. "But I genuinely think my band has something special."

"I do, too." I respond, and as I do the same I lean back onto my headboard. "I'll see you on tour this time next year, on teen magazine covers, on awards shows..."

"And what about you?" He tilts his head to the side as he leans back, propping himself up on his elbows as he studies me. "Where do you see yourself this time next year?"

I furrow my eyebrows as I take a nibble of the sandwich he gave me, holding it in my cold hands as I realize that it's gotten cloudy again outside. I've not told him anything about my future, mostly because I was never certain that I'd live long enough to see one. But as Luke focuses on his, I realize that I have to think about college and all that crap. I don't want to. The rainfall in the summer either happens for weeks straight or not at all. I guess this is the beginning of a rainy weekend. 

"I'd like to know exactly where I am headed. I wish I was confident enough in my future to know exactly where I'll be," I begin after a moment or two of silence. "I kind of lost any sort of ambition a long time ago. I don't know," I ramble. "I just know it'll be far, far away from here."

"You think people will still be taunting you in a year?" He takes another bite. "You don't think they'll forget?"

"No, they probably will," I look up at him. "It'll probably be gone in a month or two. But despite how hard I try," I begin, moving my eyes down at my lap as I shrug. "It's hard to move on here, you know? Put everything behind me and start over is, like, impossible when everyone looks at me like a kicked puppy."

"So where will you be?"

"I like..." I begin, running my fingertips across the wrist Luke once saw covered in bruises that have now disappeared - as if they had never existed in the first place. "I like Italy."

"Italy!" He gasps, a gentle smile across his face that sends me into a swarm of butterflies. "A new language, a new country?"

 "That's what you did, kinda," I shrug. "I know you didn't do it because you wanted to. But it could be exciting. And I can pick up a language if I wanted to. It can't be that hard."

"Can I visit you?" He smiles, finishing his sandwich and throwing the wrapper in the trashcan beside my desk. "We can make pasta or... something."

"I'd love to have you come visit," I say honestly, a soft grin across my face despite the pounding headache I have. "But you have to promise me something."

"Anything," he cheekily smirks, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed - closer than he was ten seconds ago.

"We forget Tyler, Arzaylea, the picture, anything and everything." I look at him, watching how he listens carefully to my instructions. "They had never existed."