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Pretty Girls ⇼ Luke Hemmings

People Who Actually Care.

Ignoring Luke’s texts and calls had proved to be easier than I thought it would be. Well, it’s only been a few hours. He knew his secret was out. As Lea had told me that she pried it out of Michael, Michael had told Luke that he’d let it slip. I turned off my phone to stop the incessant buzzing and tried to focus on the story I had due next week. The story I hadn’t started. The story that was once about gain, but now all I can think to write about is loss. Lea left an hour ago to yell at Mikey, and I sent Monica and Mandy away when they showed up to try and cheer me up. I knew it wasn’t their fault, but I was still mad at them.

They drove me back into Luke’s arms each time we fought, and reassured me that he was changing when he wasn’t. I was mad at them. I was mad at Luke. I was mad at the entire world. For what seemed like the fifth time in the past hour, I pushed my laptop away from me and walked over to the window, staring out at the soccer field where a group of students were sat, having dinner together. They were laughing, enjoying each other’s company. I just wanted to be as happy as them. I wish I never met Luke in the first place. If I were still who I was when I came to college, I’d be content.

I wish I was still without a roommate, without any friends. If I hadn’t met any of them, I wouldn’t be in so much pain. Not just emotionally either, but physically. My heart is aching so bad it’s pounding against my ribs and giving me heartburn. I’ve been crying so much that a migraine is forming. My hand aches from the stitches of the glass I picked up when Luke smashed it. My body was restless, no position I sat or lied in would ease the aching in my muscles.

My gaze travelled to the streetlamp, where a man was leaning against the metal and holding a cigarette up to his lips. I wanted to open the window, let the breeze flow in and let the cigarette stench fill up the room. It may be the closest I ever get to being with Luke again, smelling someone else’s cigarettes and thinking about him. I didn’t open the window. Instead, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn’t need to open the window to smell his scent, it was already plastered all over me.

From the morning, when he said all those thoughtful things. From my dirty clothes, where I spent my days with him in. From my comforter, where he lied with me. Even from Lea’s comforter, where he spent his time before he met me. My mind reeled back to the words we exchanged, how he wanted to meet my parents, how he said he likes me, the things he said he loves about me. Hell, we were dating. So close to love, sharing so many intimate moments, so close to me giving my body to him. The only thing I hold sacred.

What would I have done if I gave my body to him? What would I have done if I let him meet my parents? What would they say? Hell, I already know what they would say. ‘Valerie, you’re too good for him. Valerie, he’s a punk. Valerie, he’s dangerous and he’ll only hurt you. Valerie, you don’t belong with a man like that.’ And they’d be right. I hate to admit it, but they’re always right. I wish I would have listened to my instincts, that mom and dad wouldn’t like him, and stayed away.

What am I supposed to say when mom asks about the dinner next weekend? Sorry mom, we broke up because he’s a piece of shit—he’s always been a piece of shit, but I thought he was changing—and he ruined me. They didn’t have to know about the video or the dogfight or the stitches. They only needed to know that it didn’t work out. First boyfriend, first heartbreak: That’s what mom said the first time Gene got dumped. Does this qualify as heartbreak? What does heartbreak feel like, because this is pretty damn painful.

My eyes focused on the sidewalk beneath my window as I wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop. It was like a leaking faucet—sometimes it slows, but never enough to allow the sink to dry. Familiar boots hit the pavement and I panicked. He’s coming up here. He has to be. In a panic, I swung around and made eye contact with the door. The broken door. How was I supposed to keep him out when the door doesn’t lock?

I don’t want to see him, not like this. Would he be angry? Upset? Where could I hide? My eyes darted under the bed, but what if he looked? I can’t jump out the window, we’re on the third floor. Under Lea’s bed? No. Under the desk? No. Fuck. I heard a light knock on the door and, without knowing what else to do, tucked myself into the closet and shut the door. I clutched my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. He couldn’t see through the door, but what if he opened it? Then again, why would he? What kind of lunatic hides from someone in the closet so they don’t have to face the inevitable talk.

“Val?” Luke’s muffled voice came from outside of the closed door and I held my breath, biting my lip so hard that I tasted metal. The doorknob jiggled and I heard it swing open, hitting the wall. It was silent for a long while before I heard the door close again and boots hitting the floor, the bed creaking under his weight. He has to know I’m in here. My purse is on the desk, my laptop on the bed, and my phone on the nightstand. Maybe he thinks I’m in the bathroom. Or that I left with nothing of mine because I was so upset. He let out a long sigh before sniffling. He’s not crying. He can’t be. This is all his fault.

It’s his fault that I’m hiding in the closet out of fear and praying he goes away.
“Hello?” Luke’s voice sounded and I clamped my hand over my mouth. Did he hear me? “Is Val with you?” he asked and I let out a silent breath of relief. “Well, where is she?” he snapped. “She’s not in her room.” I wondered what he was doing. If he was lying on my bed or sitting. If he was looking at the wall or out the window. “I just want to know where the fuck she is!” he yelled and I jumped. “I’m not leaving until I talk to her.” That was the last thing I heard him say before it went silent again. I set my head against the wall, subtly changing my position to get more comfortable. I’m going to be in here for a while. He’s not leaving until he sees me, and I’m not coming out. Maybe Lea will come back and make him go.

***

My eyes shot open when I heard a voice. I hadn’t realized I fell asleep until I was awake again. I was still shut away in the closet, and extremely uncomfortable in the cramped space.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Lea asked. Her voice was angry and I wondered how long I’d been asleep.
“Waiting for Valerie.” I could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.
“Well she isn’t here, so you need to leave.”
“Where is she?” he asked, like he had the right to know.
“I don’t know. She probably went home, to people who actually care about her!” I momentarily closed my eyes, not sure if I should be offended by the comment. “Because you make her think that none of us give a shit about her!” She softened, making me feel slightly better. “It’s only you, Luke! You’re the only one who doesn’t care about her! All of us, we would fucking die for Val, and you make her feel like some kind of fucking toy we’re passing around!” I lifted my head from the wall, pulling my knees back to my chest.

“Don’t you dare say that I don’t care about her!” Was all he countered with and I rolled my eyes.
“If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have done what you did. Hell, you wouldn’t have done any of the shit that you’ve done to her!” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “You’ve ruined her, Luke. You took every good thing about her and molded it into something else. How could you do that? We all really like her, and you’re taking her away from us!” Lea was crying now, but I’m not sure why. She wasn’t the one who had a video of her engaging in something intimate. How many people did he show? Did Lea see it? What about Monica and Mandy?
“I love her. I can’t let her go,” he said, and my heart leapt. I wasn’t sure why it did, because I was so mad at him. Just the thought of Luke possibly loving me gave all the pain he’s inflicted meaning. But I know he doesn't mean it. He can’t. He doesn’t do love. The room was silent for a long while.
“If you love her, you’ll leave her alone,” Lea finally said and I heard him sigh. His boots collided with the floor, and the door opened and slammed shut.

“You can come out now.” Lea muttered, her bed creaking under her. I pushed myself off the floor and left the closet.
“How’d you know I was here?” I asked, sitting next to her. It was dark out now, I’d probably been hiding for a couple hours.
“Because you have nowhere else to go.” Her voice was quiet. “You weren’t with Mandy or Monica. Or even in the bathroom. So you had to be here.” I stared at my hands, ignoring the stinging pain in my back.
“Do you think he meant that?” I asked, and she knew what I meant, so she nodded.
“That’s what's so fucked up about it: The fact that he definitely meant it.”

Notes

Comments

I've just read this story in about 24 hours and all I can say is Oh My God! How have you written something (and someone) so perfect?

Lois22 Lois22
5/30/19

urgh I love this

Prinny1321 Prinny1321
5/29/19

@Alisha_PArrish101love
Arrogant Boys!!!

Can you tell me what the next One will be called please?

@Prinny1321
I promised I would finish it, and I'm finishing it!