Fangirl

"You know," I remember Luke saying. He was lying next to me on the couch, propping his torso against my shoulder with his long legs sprawled out across the dark blue fabric of my couch. I remember admiring watching his dimple appear when he cheekily smiled at me. "We don't have to go outside today. We could just stay home and be lazy Americans."

"You aren't American." I laughed, and looked over at my side purely to watch his smile appear again.

"Teach me." The blonde dramatically begged, swooning his upper body into my lap.

"You being American is going to have to wait Luke." I chuckled. I couldn't help it. I couldn't help smiling and laughing when he was around. He lit me up. He is the only person, who could light me up. "You promised you'd take me to the river." I grinned and looked at him, "After TWO WEEKS of asking, might I add."

"You always do." He giggled. He got up on his knees, leaned over to kiss me, and then went to the bathroom for a shower.

I miss him. I get it, why we broke up, even though my excuse for crying is that I don't know why. I just need closure, I didn't get closure. I wish it didn't happen like that, either. Sure, I knew we might not last for eternity, I mean he's Luke Hemmings. He's a god. I just wanted it to be easier than this. I haven't eaten anything besides saltine crackers since it happened. I've stayed in my room, I ignore when someone tells me to come out. The only time I do is for work.

My mom found me asleep on the tile floor next to the door the morning after it happened. I was too upset to stand up and walk to the couch. I've been checking my phone always, keeping it on stand by in case Luke texts or calls. He doesn't. Not one call, or text. Maybe it's just me being sad and a cliche, but it feels like he's trying to forget about me. He would usually talk to me. Even just a simple hi would do. I just want to know if he's okay.

Michael: Yeah, he is. Why?
Me: Oh. Okay. Nothing I was just checking up I guess.
Michael: Have you texted him yet?
Me: No, are you crazy? He initiated the break up, he has to talk to me first.
Michael: Logical.

I turn my head to the bright yellow rubber duck on my desk and smile, while mentally frowning.

"I got you a duck!" Luke said excitedly, getting impatient by how slowly I unwrap things. He shoved his hand in the bag and pulled it out, making me laugh. "Look!" He said, like a five year old at the zoo.

"I love it," I smiled at how cute he's being, "Why a duck?"

"Because now, when I'm on tour, you'll have something to take baths with." Luke explained, like he's the smartest person ever. I still think he is.

I huff loudly, sending a piece of my black hair flying out in front of my face. I should just text him. Words can't even nearly begin to explain how much I love that dork. I want him all the time, I want to hear that butterfly inducing laugh, that makes me finally love everything around me. It's just not the same on a screen. In person, his laugh is fucking addictive. He holds it back, like he's worried of being too happy. But then it also tastes sweet and spicy, but somehow so simple. In person it's wild, and carefree and happy, but it's pulled back and reserved, as if he doesn't want to give too much of his laugh away.

I hope he doesn't regret me. I know that we established why he did it - or, made ME do it, but I still wonder occasionally if it was just me. I already knew I wasn't the greatest. Dating Luke - Being worthy of dating Luke - boosted my self esteem maybe, but I still know where I stand on the importance scale. And Luke probably can't see me from where he stands on it. Everything in this room reminds me of him. Him, him, him. No doubt we'll see each other again, I'm friends with Michael and Ashton still. I just want to do what he did to me. Dramatically rush two states over in somehow two hours, in the pouring rain. He'd open the door, frown, and ask what I'm doing there. I'd be panting from the run like he was and just not waste anymore time then we already have by telling him I love him.

Michael: Hey why don't you fly over tomorrow?
Me: No thanks, I'm not really in the mood to see Luke.

Lie. Well, partially. I want to see him like crazy, but I want to see him like I did before. This time it'll just be weird. So realistically, I don't want to see him.

Michael: Oh come on, Ashton misses you and it'd be a chance to clear the air with Luke.

Somehow, I knew whatever I said I wouldn't be getting out of this.

Me: Fine, but you have to tell Luke I'm coming first. And you aren't allowed to lock us in a room together.
Michael: Alright, I'll book your ticket

"Pleeeaase? I'll book your ticket!" Luke giggled, while he tugged on my sleeve.

"I have to work all this week, I can't just fly to Paris with you. Plus last time I was there I was lost for hours." I laughed. He simply smiled at me, and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"Okay, well then I'm staying two days longer."

"Okay." I chuckled.

A few hours later, after the sun goes down and everyone is sleeping, I finally roll off my bed, accepting sleep isn't an option tonight. Like most of them, lately. I pull on one of the hoodies Luke stuffed into my suitcase when I wasn't looking, and slip out my dumb white shoes. They're like nurse shoes, that my mom thought I'd for some reason require in life.

Opening my window and pushing the screen out of it, I ungracefully climb out. Once I land on the ground, I realize that I'm nineteen now. I could've just walked out the door. Oh well.

I walk around for a little while, uncertain of where exactly I want to be.

I'm near some river, I think by the public park when I hear something move behind me. I don't care for this shit. I look behind me, to someone walking towards me. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I reach for my phone in my pocket to find it's empty. Shit, shit. The person calls out my name, which is a good sign I think, but because of my slight paranoia in the dark, I keep walking. What? I first watched Criminal Minds when I was like eleven. Or twelve. It didn't sit well.

They start running towards me, which freaks me the fuck out, but, accepting death I keep walking normally. "Riley," I hear someone pant, putting their hand on my shoulder. I scream, and then look up at the person.

"Calum, fuck, what the hell?!" I yell, hitting him in the arm.

"Sorry! I saw you so I figured I would say hello." He laughs.

"You, you bastard." I cross my arms and keep walking, watching as he follows beside me. "If I saw you at two am in the middle of a park I would ignore you and spare you the heart attack."

"Appreciated." He jokes. "Why are you out so late?"

"I can't sleep. Why are you, oh, I don't know, two states away from home so late?"

"I can't write songs." He shrugs. "Ashton wanted me to get inspiration, and I liked it here when we came to trick you to go on tour with us, so I figured I would see if this place would give me anything."

I nod. "Ever try just sitting down and thinking about words?"

"That's how simple it is for you?" He raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah." I shrug. "Just put words together. Like, young love close the chapter." I think, "There's no ever after, fell fast, ended faster. And then I don't know, a transition type word so yeah or oh. Maybe like, late night conversations led to complications, now my heart is in my hands." I shrug again, trying to play it cool. I know that's a good intro, I didn't just make it up on the spot, but I don't want him to think I've been writing songs. It's just the one.

"How is this so easy for you?" He chuckles. "All the girls I talk to lately are so much better at this."

"Your groupies?" I partly joke, partly try and call him out on.

"I haven't slept with or done anything with a groupie in a year, Riley. Time to let it go." He smiles.

"Never." I laugh. "Do you have a girlfriend then? I mean, as far as I know of you don't have too many female friends."

"No. Yeah, but no. I don't know. I think we're still in the stage of getting to know each other and deciding if we'd like to spend years together or if we can only stand each other for a month." Calum laughs, I smile. "She didn't know I'm famous though, so that's cool."

"Sorry," I shake my head, "this conversation is giving me Luke vibes."

"Oh, shit, yeah, how's that?"

"Not fun." I shrug. "Sad, nostalgic, lonely."

"Isn't that his hoodie?" Calum smirks, tugging on the sleeve of my upper arm.

"Don't tell him I still have it." I laugh. "I'm not returning it."

He smiles, "Can do. Why isn't it in your box?"

"What box?"

"Your break up box. Everyone finds a box after a break up, writes the ex's name on it and everything that was once a memory of you two goes in the box. It's part of moving on." I don't want to move on.

"I don't think my entire life would fit in a box." I laugh. "And I think it's a little different when your ex is all over the internet."

"And what you write about for fun." He agrees.

"Writing fan fiction is not fun." I laugh, "It's nerve racking! What if people hate it? What if you put out a bad chapter on your best story? What then? Chaos, chaos everywhere!"

He laughs, "Damn, I didn't know it was so intense."

"It's extremely intense, Calum." I say. "Are you planning on leaving lovely San Francisco any time soon?"

"No, I'll probably stick around a week or so. Michael and Ashton want three songs done when I get back."

"And Luke?" I ask, partly nervous to even bring him up.

"Luke is too busy being a wreck to care right now." Calum says.

"Michael told me he was okay." I frown.

"Probably to spare Luke the embarrassment." Calum guesses. Okay I can't keep talking about Luke.

"Want to go to the beach?" I ask.

"At three in the morning?" He laughs.

"I don't plan on sleeping in the next two days, so yes, at three am." I laugh.

"Sure then." He nods. "To the beach we go!" Calum laughs, holding his arm in the air like he's going into battle.

Notes