art geek ⌽ hemmings

⌱ 0.6

Hallie

That was the most talking they'd done in any geography class.

She'd started to write him a letter -she'd started it close to a million times- but it seemed to her like such a seventh-grade thing to do. What could she write? 'Dear Luke, I like you. You have really cute hair and I like sitting with you in geo.'

He did have really cute hair. He also looked really good in all black. Black band tees, black sneakers, black jeans, almost all black, every day. (He looked really good in any colour, really). Luke was nothing but a daydream in black. It made him look like he was drawn in ubame charcoal with thick brows and defined cheekbones and shining cheeks. Whenever Hallie wore black, aunt Jocelyn would always say she looked like she was attending a funeral.

'Dear Luke, I like you, a lot. You have really nice cheeks.'

Violet and Hallie walked together from the bus stop to Violet's house, the sky looked like a big grey duvet was thrown over the whole of town. She hadn't even told violet about what Luke said to her after school (just thinking about it almost made Hallie self-implode).

"Luke wants me to go to Jesse Pratt's with him." Hallie managed to pipe up and swallowed hard, biting on the inside of her cheek as her worn combat boots trudged along Violet's street.

"I know, Michael told me." Violet laughed.

"He doesn't even have my number." Hallie groaned and followed Violet up her driveway.

"Relax, I'll get his number off Michael and you can call him first," Violet said. "Chill."

"Thanks, Vi." Hallie smiled, although she really hated talking to Luke. Not exactly, more so she hated looking and feeling stupid in front of him. She always felt stupid around him. Fucking hell, she thought.

Luke

Luke put Cage The Elephant on full volume and sat at his desk attempting to compete his biology homework. It sucked. When he told his mum he was going to a party with a girl she flipped and told him he had to finish all his homework before leaving, and he probably wouldn't even be allowed to call Calum. For the first time in weeks, Luke didn't have any thought of climbing out his window and down the fire escape and walking six blocks to the abandoned skate park near the shitty art gallery on 25th. He went there when he had an overdue essay, when he couldn't talk to anyone, when he was frustrated. It was his safe place.

But quite quickly, Hallie became Luke's safe place. And he didn't mind the slightest.

Hallie

She swallowed the colossal lump in her throat. (555)-555-1427. Hallie dialled Luke's number and held her phone to her cheek as best she could -without shaking like an idiot- she probably sounded dumb over the phone.

"Hello?" Luke's voice echoed from the other end, it sounded perfect. She almost didn't want to speak. Just listening to him talk about everything would be enough. She felt the rush in her cheeks almost resemble the same colour as Violet's lava lamp.

"Uh ... hey, Luke?" Hallie sat cross-legged on the floor of Violet's bedroom, her unoccupied hand fiddling with her necklace and her heart beating a million miles an hour.

"Hallie?" She could've died. He was probably in bed with a Twenty One Pilots hoodie on with his hair proper messed up and he was probably thinking about how much of a dork she was. Fuck.

"Yeah, um ... I just called 'cause I'm at Vi's, so ... if you wanna come pick us up later or whatever I could give you the address? I'm so fucking awkward over the phone - Jesus." Luke chuckled (was chuckling even attractive?).