Damage

Chapter 17

(A/N: luke's penthouse at the side!)

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is that I’m in bed alone. My eyelashes flutter against the soft, white Egyptian cotton lying on top of the down pillow and my eyes open to the large window on the other side of the room. 

The window goes from floor to ceiling, but it’s covered by white curtains that would open up to a broad view of trees and the upper west side of Manhattan if they weren’t drawn. I sit up in bed, running my hands through my hair and seeing how with the lights turned off, the morning sunlight is just barely peeking from behind the curtain. 

What time is it? My phone is in the living room, so I softly pad over to the dresser, turning on the light and holding Luke’s thick, shiny Rolex in my hand, watching as the minute and the second hand move around the face of the watch in one fluid motion, silently. It’s nearly 10 and I’m surprised I’ve slept for such a long time; it doesn’t feel like it at all. 

I open the bedroom door, looking down the hallway and living room below, wondering where Luke is. There’s no note or anything, just silence permeating the entire penthouse.

“Luke?” I call out as a last-ditched attempt, but there’s no response, just a deafening quiet.  I guess I really am alone. 

I’m not sure if I should stay, or go. I could take the subway back to Morningside, but I feel like I shouldn’t leave. The thought of talking to Luke makes me feel like ice water is being poured into my veins, what do I say? Where do I stand?

 The ensuite bathroom’s cold marble is less foreign to me than it was about a week ago and as I splash a bit of cold water on my face I realize just how little time has passed since I came to New York. 

The first party I went to was last week, that boy Ashton’s birthday party was on Friday, Luke kissed me that night. Luke picked me up from Michael’s in the late afternoon on Saturday which brings me to today, Sunday morning, back where it all started 9 days ago.

My curly hair is a mess, flowing in dark ringlets by my bare shoulders.  I don’t remember taking off my dress, but when I come back to the bed, it’s folded by the nightstand so I slip it back on. My bra is probably out in the living room, but I can get that later. 

Slowly, my eyes are to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that I saw the last time I was here, lining the wall and filled with 1 part books and 3 parts random little odds and ends, and picture frames.  Some are empty, but some have photos inside, pictures of Luke and Calum and another boy I don’t recognize. They’re all holding beer bottles, Calum and the other boy smiling at the Calum while Luke looks staunchly just above it, his expression hard, but with a small smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

He looks younger in a different picture, standing in a cap and gown with what must be his father’s hand on his shoulder and I remember that he went to boarding school in Australia. He looks maybe 18, 4 years younger than he is now, but not very different. He hasn’t changed too much since then. Maybe grown a little taller, gotten a little broader and his eyes have darkened. Fading from their bright blue color that looks full of joy, to a darker, more piercing hue.

One photo shows Luke, looking roughly the same age he is now standing next to Calum. It’s one of the happiest photo’s I can see. Calum’s shirt is dark and has no sleeves and he’s standing next to Luke, pointing at him as he stands in an unbuttoned plaid shirt, smiling with his mouth closed. Underneath are the written words “Last Day of Junior Year - Columbia” and it brings a smile to my face. Only a few months ago.

My eyes scan over the rest of the photos, scantily clad girls with little white pills on their tongues, standing next to Luke. A photo of him and a different boy I don’t recognize who’s holding a bag of green leaves and white powder, sitting at a table with his middle fingers towards the camera. Even a few photos of him standing with his father what looks like a couple of months ago, looking irritated and dressed in an expensive suit, his lip ring taken out for the event.