Well...Not Anymore.

Well...Not Anymore: Chapter 7

**So...I kind of hate this chapter.  Well, the way it's written anyway.  I don't think it's my best.  But I did want to publish something since it's taken so long.  Sorry about that, by the way.  I just moved four hours away from home for college and it's taken a while to get adjusted.  I'm slowly getting there though :)  Like and comment please!**

"Naomi, honey!" his mom says excitedly after she's climbed into the car just ten minutes later, "I haven't seen you in so long!" 

I turn around and get a glance at her, at the woman that's been more of a mom to me than my own mother, and see her familiar short, curly blonde hair and her deep navy blue eyes. Lucas has always taken after his mom in the looks department, except for his height. He gets his six foot two stature from his dad who is probably the tallest guy I've ever seen standing at six foot five.  

The two of them are the sweetest people I've ever met, though, so I'm not exactly surprised when I find that his mom's enthusiasm at seeing me is almost contagious. I smile happily back at her after turning in my seat and say, "I know, two years!" 

Mrs. Emma leans forward and slaps her son's shoulder, scolding him, "Lucas I can't believe you kept her away for so long. What the hell is wrong with you?" 

I giggle at Lucas' expression, which is a mix of playful yet real guilt, and then tell his mom, "I know, I think I missed you more than I did him!" 

The two of us start laughing and when I look over to face Lucas, I see that he really doesn't find it all too funny. He has his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, so tight that I see white, and it makes me wonder why he seems to be so mad. He knows that his mom and I are just playing, so why does it look like he's taking everything so seriously? 

Mrs. Emma obviously notices the same thing as she says, "Lucas sweetie, you know we're just kidding." 

I see his grip on the wheel lighten up a good bit, but he's still holding so tight that it worries me. Shouldn't he be happy that I'm not sincerely bashing him in front of his mother? If I didn't love the woman like my own mother and didn't care what she thought of me, I'd have half a mind to rant about how awfully he's treated me for the past two years. But I can't do that. Mrs. Emma thinks the world of her son and I really don't have the heart to ruin that. 

He says with a clenched jaw, "I know." 

Mrs. Emma rolls her eyes dramatically so that I can see and I bite down a laugh, knowing that it probably won't make it any better. After a few moments she asks me, "So how've you been?" 

Knowing that if I tell her the truth, that her son has made my life as pathetic as can be, it'll only hurt her, so I say fakely, "It's been good, I guess." 

She nods, "Good, good. How's school? I know Lucas has been struggling a bit with the work load that they give all of the seniors." 

Lucas? The golden boy has been struggling with his grades? I know that the two of us are neck in neck with six and seventh place out of the top grade list for seniors posted outside of the principal's office, but he's always been just one step ahead of me. How can he be struggling? He's number six out of three hundred students.  

I shrug and say, "I've been doing okay. I'm trying to get a scholarship so..." 

She cuts me off excitedly, "Honey where are you going? Lucas is going to UCLA for football, it'd be great if you could be around there!" 

Not wanting to tell her that I'd hate to be so close to him, that I just want to get the hell away from him because this hold he has over me is insane, I smile and say, "Anything away from home would be great."