Mute {Luke Hemmings AU}

2

I avoid my dad all night and morning when I get back from the park. When I wake up in he morning and go downstairs to eat breakfast, he says nothing to me. I know he is glad to see me though. Or at least, I think he is. Ever since my mother passed away, my dad has changed. He's one of those people that doesn't really care about what other people think of him. He wont really tell you if he's happy or sad, angry or confused. Instead, he let's people figure it out for themselves. He let's other people decide what he feels. Right now, he is feeling happy.

He sets down a plate full of eggs on the kitchen counter for me to eat before I leave for school. As he closes one of the kitchen cupboards he says, "The bus will be at the bus stop at seven forty-five." He fills up a cup with orange juice. "I believe the bus top is at the end of the street." I nod, and he continues to wander around the house unpacking boxes and cleaning things up as I poke at my egg with my fork. I poke my breakfast too hard, and the yolk of the egg oozes out.

"Are you going to eat that Adelaide?" My dad says from behind. "It's seven thirty-eight, anyways. You should get going."

I acknowledge him with a smile and hand him my plate. I sling my backpack over my shoulders and head out the door without looking back to say goodbye.

It takes me a few minutes to find the bus stop, considering its only a block away. The sign itself is nearly split in two and is covered with green leafy vines from top to bottom. It looks like the words on the sign have been written with sharpie because they were once too faded to see. I wait alone. Nobody else is waiting for this bus except me.

The bus, bus number three, arrives right on the dot. Seven forty-five exact. It pulls up to the bus stop with a wheeze as the doors rattle open before the bus itself comes to a stop. Sitting in the driver's seat is an old, large man with bushy eyebrows and a grey mustache. He wears a blue baseball cap that matches his blue uniform. His hands are places on the steering wheel as if he will drive off without me any second.

"Are you coming or not?" He asks, scratching his head. I nod, and step into bus number three. Almost all the seats were empty. "Just take a seat anywhere. Don't mind the stuffing." I look around to see that some of the stuffing was beginning to come out of the seats. I sit down in the first row and place my backpack on my lap. The doors clatter close once again. The bus driver steps on the gas, and we begin our departure. I look out the window to see the streets of Astoria start to slowly move past me. We get stuck behind a slow car, and it almost seems like we are moving ten miles per hour.

Then, I see a boy. He is running to try and catch up with the bus. His black hood that is draped over his head falls off as he continues to chase after the bus. I turn around in my seat to see and hear him shout something dirty at the bus driver as he begins to sprint. His long legs and long strides allow him to catch up to the door, and he pounds his fist on the glass. "Wait!" He yells, continuing to pound his fists against the bus. The bush driver grunts in frustration and pulls over to the side of the road. The doors open, and the boy stumbles into the bus.

"Hurry up! Take a seat." The bus driver shouts. "We are two minutes behind schedule." The tires screech and the old bus accelerates, jerking our bodies forward.

"Thanks a lot." He says, plopping down across from me. "I saw you watching me run." He sighs. "You know, it would've helped if you told the driver to stop for me." He swats his hand over his forehead to fix his hair. I turn around and stare at him, and he says, "Sorry. That was kind of mean. I just had one of those mornings you know? I woke up half an hour late and my mom didn't make me breakfast and I forgot to pack my backpack and I forgot to feed my dog and I didn't do my hair and my mom didn't wake me up. I mean... Not that you should know my mom still wakes me up. She does but, never mind." He groans and says, "I did not mean to say any of that I'm so sorry. You must think I'm weird."

I smile at him and he lends me his right hand. "Luke. By the way." I look at his hand blankly. No one hasn't been this kind to me in a long time. He holds up his other hand and says, "You're supposed to shake it. Like this." If you haven't tried before, it's impossible to shake hands with yourself correctly. I guess Luke hasn't discovered that yet, because when he tries to shake his left hand with his right, he scrunches his eyebrows. He turns his left hand upside down and grabs it with his right hand awkwardly. "Like that."

I shake his hand and I feel a tingle through my body. "I'm Adelaide."

ANOTHER SHORT CHAPTER :(

I'm not sure if I like this chapter. I'm really really sorry I haven't updated for 3729338 years. I could not think of anything to write about, and when I wrote a chapter, I became unhappy with it and deleted it all. But this is the best version so far and I'm sorry if it sucks. Please leave feedback. And vote. And maybe follow ?? THANKS.

-@notangie