over and over - l.h.

Chapter 6: Sweat, Mistakes, and Luke

I'm squished.

I literally cannot move an inch with this guy's monkey arms wrapped around me, forcibly pressing me to the wall adjacent. Okay, I've maneuvered many a different things in my life: men, obstacles, legal issues, responsibilities, but never have I ever had this much trouble untangling myself from this six-foot something male. I take back the nice things I said about him. He is a nightmare.

Once I finally unlatched monkey-boy's fingers from my hair, I pried open the curtains and took a deep breath of sweet, fresh air. It smelled like sweat, vomit, and mistakes all cooped up in that box. I regretted this action immediately, as the burning sunlight scalded my eyes. Okay that's a little dramatic, but god it burned enough to send me into a sneezing fit. My sneezes are so weird; they're like little sniffles.

After I composed myself from that terrible fit, I proceeded to step out of the bunk. All I had to do was get out of here without disturbing anyone, which should be easy enough. It's eight o'clock in the morning; teenage boys sleep until noon.

I gathered my things, which is simple enough considering it's just a backpack full of clothes. I started dressing myself in the middle of the hallway, because it seemed like no one was there. I pulled up my shorts with the little Chanel wristlet hanging from my belt loop holding roughly about fifty bucks. I've had that thing since Jimmy; he gave it to me as our anniversary present. I pulled the hot pink bandeau over my head and positioned my tiny lumps of fat in their correct places; finally, I picked up my sparkly black tank top and cringed. That thing was itchy, and if hell were a piece of clothing, sinners would come to die at the mercy of those sequins. So I reached down and picked up Ashton's Metallica tee off of the ground and yanked it over my head.

After tousling my hair a bit and deciding there is nothing I can do with this short shag of shame, I picked up a baseball cap that was hanging from a hook outside one of the bunks. It was a very nice maroon color and I applauded this person on their sense of style. Finally, it was time for my escape.

Slipping into my untied converse, I padded over to the kitchen to pick up my... bag? Where is it? Did I...? And when the realization dawned on me that I never took it out of the Station Wagon, which is so conveniently abandoned back in Florida, I let out such a profoundly disgusting string of curse words, even Satan would cringe. Where even are we? Damnit. I can't exactly describe what losing all of my things feels like, but just picture walking and all of a sudden having the floor being pulled out from beneath you and dumping you, your money, and your life with it: it royally sucks.

Too late to sulk now, I have to get out of here. After fighting back the urge to rip out someone's still-beating heart, I headed towards the door and jiggled the knob. Nothing. I unlocked the deadbolt and jiggled the knob again. Still, nothing. I didn't even know I knew this many curse words. As I swore at the door with everything I had, I knew there was only one other option. If you can't get out through the only door...you have to brave the humiliation and hurl yourself out of the window. Amazingly enough I've had worse days; although this easily breaks the top ten.

There was one window above the kitchen sink that I knew I could most definitely crawl out of. God this was going to be a pain in the ass. I made my way over with nothing but fifty bucks and a lot of hickeys; you could practically feel the shame radiating off of me right now. I unlocked the window with one annoyingly loud click, and flung it open. We were parked in some empty lot which to my knowledge was in the middle of nowhere. Wish me luck.

Just as I got my body halfway out of the window, I heard the shuffling of heavy feet. Shit, shit, shit. Saying that I panicked would be an understatement. I tried really hard to be quiet and quick, I really, really tried. As soon as I heard those footsteps I tried to fling my entire body out of the window, but it was already too late. I knew someone was staring at me before I even turned around.

"Um...hi." I said awkwardly, still wincing out into the vacant lot.

"What the hell?" the mystery boy said incredulously, not to mention he practically screamed, which stirred a ruckus back in the bunks.

I am not turning around. I will not turn around. I will not kill anyone today. I won't. No. Stop.

I turned around.

To say this boy was gorgeous would be like saying the Grand Canyon was alright. He was tall, taller than Ashton, with blonde hair flat and going in every direction due to sleep. I could tell his eyes were a piercing blue all the way from over here, even through the light that was hitting him strangely. He was a very lanky boy and had only a little muscle, but his shoulders were broad and his hips were narrow. I was always very attracted to the scrawny guys, but Blondie over here wasn't even scrawny; he was and, I say this in the most dethatched way possible, the sexiest most perfect man I have ever laid eyes on.

At the exact moment I was totally checking Blondie out, another unknown boy walked in.

"Luke what the - shit, not again." He said.

So Luke was his name. Cute.

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AYO LUKE

Alrighty Imma start writing the next chapter, so if you guys are looking for another really good Luke fic check out lukeyxox's 'Feelings'

ITS FREAKING AMAZING

I LOVE YOU GUYS :*