Luke
"Headshot." I see the turquoise paint splattered over his forehead, front and centre. Jace grunts and drops his gun. "Dammit, how did you even sense me coming?" He rubs off the paint, massaging his forehead. "Gun training. When you were learning to be Buddy Valastro, I took up combat." My grin grows wide. He does the opposite. No, the same.
"That looks like it's gonna leave a mark." Before I can turn around to even see the face of the voice behind me, I feel it. Square on my back. I just got shot.
"Screw you, Xavier." I drop my gun. He slowly circles and walks in front of me, barely any emotion on his face. Then, he looks me in the eye and a smug grin starts to stretch. "I win."
"Yeah, I can see that." I roll my eyes.
"You left yourself so wide open, I thought you had given up or asked for surrender. You sure are cocky." Jace high fives him. "Told you we'd teach you to respect your elders." Now I understand his grin from earlier.
"Yeah, yeah. And again; THREE DAYS is a pretty short time." I eye Xavier and put my hand on his head. "Didn't shave it off?" I taunt. "Tempt me, and it'll happen." He doesn't look up from the phone he's always attached to. It's kind of giving Tori.
"Nah, I think you're tempting your managers, or more like giving them hypertension."
"Serves em' right. Now, let's get something to eat."
We meet up with the rest at the resting area and Jace brags about Xavier's win like it was his. We order a fries, burgers, chicken nuggets and bottles of Pepsi. "Mr. model, aren't you supposed to be eating a salad and water or sumn'?" Travis taunts Xavier. "I'll work off the calories or whatever."
"Says the guy who spends 19 out of 24 hours on his couch. How the heck do you keep up that 6-pack?" Tyler asks.
"I don't know, genetics, maybe." He scoops up a heap of ketchup with fries. "So, Luke." Tyler starts. "I heard from a little source that you brought your girl to live with you, and she's a real snack." Every head on the table shoots towards me. "My little boy is now a man." Proud tears form in Xavier's eyes. "What the-" I sigh through my nose, "She isn't my girlfriend."
"But she lives with you?" Travis gives me the side eye. "It's HSA business. Simple." "Right..." They still sound suspicious asf. But everything about Tori must remain classified. "She looks like a cupcake. You should come see her one of these days." Jace takes a bite out of his burger. "Expect us any random day." Ty and Trav look pleased as ever. "But hey." Xavier starts on a tone only I can hear. "What's the probability of you falling for her?" That's a surprise. He's never asked me anything about relationships before. "Client-worker relationships are prohibited by the HSA." I reply plainly. "That isn't the question I asked you." The person he's always been, best at killing attempts at changing subjects. "I don't have any feelings for her. And I'm not sure that will ever happen." He nods. "Noted." Moreover, regardless of how I feel, my family views a love like that as taboo, and every single thing in my life is decided for me. Yes, it will never happen.
Historiah
My session is finally done (heaven knows why they still make me go to them), and I need to get home. I'm still 16, so Luke gave me his credit card since I can't have mine yet. Speaking of, I'll be a year older in a few weeks. Not that I actually care about it. The only thing on my mind right now is how much ice cream or cake I can buy with this. There's probably, correction, definitely more money in this account than I work with in school —and I'm almost a third year. I walk over to a branch of one of the most popular confectionary stores, Death by Caramel. My eyes caught a glimpse of it when I got here, and I haven't since been able to get it out of my head. It's like I walked into wonderland. The 'sweets' theme is pretty, but that isn't what catches my eye. The variety of desserts in the show-glass is enough to kill. I approach the counter and ask the waiter, "Recommend me something."
"How much are you willing to spend?" His brown eyes meet mine.
"However much guarantees bliss."
"Alright then, my personal favourite is the almond bullet and blueberry recoil. It's one of our finest combos." He smiles. "Give me the largest size of exactly that." They really take the whole 'death by caramel' thing seriously.
"Coming right up." I take a seat at one of the tables and scroll through my phone, texting Luke to come pick me up. Strange. He usually reads messages not too long from when I send them, but even after 15 minutes, it's still on 'delivered'. He didn't even answer my call; and believe me, I never call.
Anyway, my combo arrives, and it looks like all I've ever wanted. Vanilla and caramel cake with blueberry flavoured heavy cream and the real berries. There are also a few pieces of crumbled almonds sprinkled over it and bits of raspberries. I wistfully scoop a spoonful in my mouth and feel my heart flutter.
Maybe this can be my new reason to live.
I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks and tingles in my skin. I eat it more and more, savouring every bite. But the heat in my cheeks begins to feel too hot, so hot I start to sweat. And the tingling in my skin begins to turn into pain—sharp, piercing pain. What the heck is happening to me?
My stomach churns and my sight doubles. "E-excuse, cuse m-me. I d-don't feel s-so goo-" I feel everything I ate today run up my throat. I cover my mouth with my hand and hold my stomach with the second. "My goodness! Are you alright, miss?" He exclaims and runs to my side. "Do I look alright to you, miste-" before I finish, it all comes out. I'm hurting everywhere and I'm losing consciousness. I can see the pained expression on his face. Likely because I just threw up all over his shirt. Poor guy. And like clockwork, it all goes black.
My eyes open to a white room and the beeping of a heart beat thingy. I'm not going to ask, "Where am I?" like some cliché film. It's visibly and obviously a hospital room.
I manage to sit up slightly, enduring the splitting pain in my head. I look to my right, and of course, Luke's sitting there. He's sitting on a chair, head on the edge of my bed, fast asleep. I look at the clock on the bedside table.
It's 3:56am. And I need to pee.
I turn to try and get up when I feel a tug on my hand. Has he been holding it this entire time? I try pulling it out, when he flinches and grabs on tighter. "Don't go, Tori." He mumbles in his sleep. His brows are furrowed, and there's a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. I've never seen him look so troubled before—in his sleep for that matter. "Luke." I call out his name, and it feels like fire in my scratchy throat. I try tapping him with my second hand, and the second I touch him, he jumps awake. Our eyes meet in the dim light. "Historiah." He breathes and wraps his arms around me. They're strong and built, yet his embrace is gentle. He's holding me like a glass doll that'll break at the slightest pressure. I'm enveloped in his baggy hoodie, yet I feel his warm breath on my neck. Then in a nanosecond, like it never happened, he pulls away quickly and lets go of my hand.