Clean ⇔ Cashton ✓

Mouth Full Of White Lies

CALUM

I don't go to work for another three long days, filled with nothing but silence and empty air, due to Luke being gone at work for most of the day. I mostly just sat in bed and slept. Luke gave my phone back the morning after the incident with Luke in the parking lot, and I've played games to pass the time, but it's hard to occupy yourself for too much of a time when you can't leave the house.

When that fourth day came around and I was finally able to honestly tell Luke that I felt immensely better, I was relieved when he said I could go into work. Not that I enjoy being a waiter at a restaurant all that much, but it's better than just laying in bed all day.

Plus, I get to see Ashton. I've been wanting to see him ever since Luke yelled at him in the parking lot, because I feel bad for the entire thing. It was my fault for agreeing to leave with him anyway, and it didn't serve any good at all.

As I step into a pair of black skinny jeans on the fourth morning, Luke's demanding voice slithers into my brain like an echo: You are not allowed to talk to him anymore. The tone of his voice was one I've heard too many times before, and I know he was dead serious. My bones hurt just thinking about what might happen if I don't do what he says.

My movements slacken as his words replay in my head over and over again. I fumble with the buttons on my shirt, half-heartedly fixing the collar. I don't know how I will manage to just ignore Ashton when I see him today. I know he'll be there. He's there every day. How does Luke expect me to just flat out ignore the only person in the restaurant that will talk to me?

I slip my phone into my pocket and head downstairs, trying not to let my shoulders slump too much. Luke will ask what's wrong, and I can't tell him that I'm upset about not talking to Ashton. He wouldn't be pleased.

Luke is standing by the door, his blonde hair falling in his eyes as he stares down at his phone. He's dressed in a white button up shirt, cuffed at the elbows, with a classic black tie. A blazer is hooked over his elbow, and his face is expressionless. I drop onto the landing, gaining his attention.

He smiles. "Calum. Are you ready?"

I nod, forcing a tight smile as I walk past him to the door. He follows me out, tucking his phone into his pocket and locking the door behind us. It's warm outside, with a slight tinge of breeze that hints at the arrival of fall. I feel Luke's hand snake around my waist, hugging me closer to him as we walk to his car. I feel almost suffocated by the slight push of his hand on my back, but I bite my tongue to stay silent.

"You look a ton better," Luke says on the drive over the restaurant. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "I'm glad you're feeling okay."

"Me too," I mumble, staring out at the blur of trees and sky behind the window. The colors streak together like a watercolor painting.

For the rest of the drive, I stare at my shoes. I can still feel the slight ache under my rib cage from where his foot met my skin, and my jaw still stings from where he slapped me about a week ago. The remainders of Luke's anger are still permanently marked on my skin, and no soap and water can wash it off, no matter how hard I try.

The car rolls to a stop outside of the restaurant, and Luke gives me an encouraging smile as I slip out of the car. He's in an oddly good mood today, but I'm not one to question it.

Luke's car pulls back out onto the main road, and I walk through the restaurant doors. Inside, it's busier than it normally is, even for the morning. I swallow roughly and keep my head down as I walk to the back of the store. I turn the corner into the break room, where all the employees are.

I exhale as I see them, all standing in a group, laughing and talking loudly. None of them even glance my way. As I turn to grab my things, I catch a glimpse of Ashton, standing next to Michael. His bright hazel eyes are alight with laughter as he talks, his dimples sinking into his cheeks. I break away before I can make contact with him, not wanting to make things even more awkward between us than they have to be.