13. bumping into luke.

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I am on my eighth cup of coffee.

The school canteen can only give me so much before they decide what's best for my well being. And apparently, they're not allowed to let me 'overdose' (which I have no idea is even possible or not) on caffeine in fear of my super-important-but-never-around parents suing. I tried to get around that rule, I really did. But they wouldn't pour me anymore, so I just left.

I sit on the bench in front of my school now, shaking. Ashley helped me climb over the fence a little while ago, and now my heart is beating so fast that it would probably beat Luke in a race of getting here if it had wheels.

My palms are sweating, my head is spinning, and I have an unbelievable craving for another coffee; I'm suddenly thankful that the canteen closed on me when it did.

"He's not here yet, Ash."

"Give him some time," she tells me over the phone.

"How much time, exactly?"

"Well, how late is he?"

"Thirty minutes-"

"He's never been to our school before. We're practically in the middle of nowhere," she says. "Wait for it. He's probably just having a hard time finding where it is."

"I hope so."

I have a plan of action in mind and it's pretty simple, albeit difficult to do. I'm going to meet Luke, have a long conversation, and somehow convince him to leave me alone. It sounds easy, and it's probably the most achievable plan I've ever come up with; but unfortunately, I know that reality won't be doing me any favours any time soon, so I'm stuck with the problem of actually trying to run it past the boy with the blonde hair and the hole in his bottom lip where a ring should be. Which doesn't sound too hard, but knowing Luke, it probably will be.

"You okay?" Ashley's hushed voice is what greets me as I turn the volume up. She's in a class that I should probably be in, too, but instead I'm outside waiting for my inner nightmare to arrive.

"Kind of," I say, swinging my legs over the cold metal seat. There's no sign of vehicular life anywhere, and although that relieves me, I'm also very impatient. "God, never mind. I feel sick."

"Are you sure it's a good idea to meet him in the middle of a school day?" she asks me, suddenly sounding like my fake parental role taker, Dylan. "I mean, you should have at least given yourself some time to prepare first."

"I couldn't wait," I tell her truthfully. "If I let it bug me until tomorrow, I probably would have gone crazy tonight,"

"Good point," she says. I hear the sound of our World History teacher nagging on and on about an essay in the background, her words drilling into my mind and making me feel even more at unease.

"Do you know what you're going to say to him?"

Exhaling a slow breath, I shake my head, the gesture more for me than for her. "No clue."

"Do you know what you want to talk about, at least?"

"Afraid that I don't,"

"Jeez. What the hell did you ask him to meet you for, then?" she questions, sounding more perplexed than anything else.

I just hang my head low, suddenly feeling very stupid for not preparing myself for this.

"Ash, I think this was a mistake."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I might just go," I pick my bag up off of the floor, slinging it over my shoulder and looking around me. Again, no sign of any cars approaching. "Get the bus into the city. I need to clear my mind,"

"Wait, so you're just going to ditch him?"

I glance at the clock on my phone, and at the many text messages I sent to Luke earlier on, all of them left with had zero replies back. My eyebrows furrow.

I've been spending so long worrying and hyperventilating over actually seeing him face to face that I never noticed the time; he was supposed to be here over an hour ago.

"Don't need to," I mumble, typing a quick text to Luke, asking him if he's okay. "I think he's already done that for me."

"Are you still going into town?" Ashley asks. I can hear her shuffling already, gathering her things together to join me outside.

"Why, you want me to wait?"

"Mhm. Fuck World History, I need new shoes," she says, and I laugh slightly.

"Alright. I'll see you in a bit."

If I'm being honest, a part of me isn't relieved in a slightest. That same part of me is actually a little pissed that Luke never showed up. I try to convince myself that it's only because I need something from him, but deep down, I know that's not the entire case.

Do I need something from Luke, like him leaving me alone, and am I pissed that I never got to ask him for it? Yes. But is that the only reason that I'm annoyed at him for not making an appearance? Unfortunately, no.

Ashley gets over the school gates much quicker than I did, first by throwing her bag over the fence and climbing up before it.

It doesn't take her too long to find me, and we start walking down the pavement before the fourth school bell has a chance to ring.

"Bet you're happy he never showed, huh?" she asks me, as we step off the bus and enter the slightly crowded shopping mall.

There aren't that many people milling about, and I'm glad, because it means less crowds for us to have to wade through. "I guess,"

"Oh, no. That voice," Ashley says, shaking her head as we walk into a store with a massive shoe logo on the front. "I know that voice,"

"What voice?"

"The regretful one," she raises an eyebrow, bending down ever so slightly as she sees something she likes on the shelves. "You so wanted to meet him,"

"Just to ask him a favour,"

"Yeah, yeah. Miss Bullshitter, I don't buy it," she says, pointing a finger of accusation at me before holding up two pairs of sparkly heels.

They both look the same, and I'm in no mood to make the slightest comment about any fashion choice right now, but whatever distraction I can get, I'll gladly take.

I point to the one in her left hand. "That one."

"You sure?"

I nod. Ashley goes up to the counter while I hang back, sighing to myself as I check my phone for any new messages.

I'm sorry, doll. I got held up. I'm going to be a little late...

Fuck it, I'm going to be really late. I'm so sorry

I'm a fucking idiot, I literally just noticed how late I am. I lost track of time and I really am sorry, Soph

Sophie?

"Ready to go?" Ashley hooks her arm through the new shopping bag in her hand and I nod once more, before we exit the store and head straight to the food court.

"Has he left you any messages since earlier?" she asks, being careful to dodge the busy shoppers that pass us.

"Yes," I reply. "Four."

"What did they say?"

"He apologised," I say. "They're all just apologies, to be honest. The last one sounds like he thinks I'm angry,"

"Well, are you?"

"I don't know," I admit, and Ashley nods in understanding. "I guess I'm just a little irritated."

"Go on,"

"I mean, it's the one day I agreed to see him," I begin. I can already feel the rant coming on. "And something just had to happen today. Something just had to hold him back,"

"So you're not mad at Luke," she reinstates, looking at me.

"But instead, how dirty the universe did you?"

"Basically. He can't help it if he had something to do," I say, in defeat. It's only now that I realise how insignificant and small I probably am on Luke's social spectrum.

My shoulders slump as we turn the corner, into another section of the shopping mall. People pass us in groups, creating invisible barriers that we physically have to barge through to get somewhere.

"God, how crappy does my luck have to be to-"

I'm cut off completely as I slam into another person. My bag falls off of my shoulder, it's contents spilling out all over the floor as I waste no time in attempting to pick it back up.

Cursing slightly under my breath, I make a mental reminder to be less clumsy next time, even though that internal promise will probably be forgotten in the nearby future.

The person I bumped into places whatever they're carrying onto the ground, careful movements put in place before they fall onto their knees in front of me.

It's a bunch of roses, but I don't stare at it, for I currently have my own things to worry about.

"Fuck," the person mutters, their hands skimming over my notebooks and pens. They stack them up as I do the same, fully concentrated on staying out of the crowd's way. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," I mumble, taking the books from them.

I can't help but pinpoint the familiarity of their voice, but I keep my head ducked down in fear of my humiliation settling on my red cheeks. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, well, it was, but... goddamnit, I practically knocked you over. I really need to watch where I'm going more often," they say, their accented tone accompanying a slight, deep chuckle that resonates through my chest and sounds like music to my ears.

After gathering my things, I zip my bag shut, about to thank the person for stopping to help me until I finally pluck up enough courage to look up; and my entire world freezes, like a movie being put on pause.

I almost drop the bag again.

The person's gaze flickers between the roses they managed to pick back up to my face, beautiful crystal blue eyes narrowing at me before widening again, this time with shocked recognition.

Luke Hemmings.

I feel a lump begin to form in my throat. My heart speeds up. I've suddenly forgotten how to act like a normal functioning human being, despite how I never knew how to beforehand; nevertheless, I'm certain that I'm void of any 'act natural' skills now.

I try to rack my brain for an excuse. I try to make a mental excuse overall, but I come up short in the few seconds that I have.

I watch as he brushes his floppy blonde hair out of his eyes; in awe of how he's real, of how tall he is, of how one can look so good in some loose sweats and a simple grey shirt, in awe of how I'm seeing him right in front of me and not just through a phone screen.

This is happening, a voice in my mind says, and half of me is squealing like the little fangirl I am. The other half of me wants to run away and disappear forever.

I gulp, every muscle in my body growing tense. Luke's lips slowly turn upwards as he exhales a slow, shakey breath; obviously as stunned and as speechless as I am.

Maybe he won't recognise me, I think, panicked. I begin to chant it in my head, like some sick mantra that may come true if I say it enough.

Maybe he won't know it's me. Maybe he's forgotten what I look like. Maybe he-

"S-Sophie?"

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