stepbrother ➼ luke hemmings (REWRITING)

36 - YET TO BE REWRITTEN

C H L O E

We all have choices. Most of them may not be as easy to make as others. Our choices have consequences. I know mine did, and they still do.  Because sometimes, when life gives you two almost impossible things to chose between, you have to pick the right one- even if it means hurting the wrong people.

Or else everything will be given the utmost oppurtunity to fuck up, and you'll be left with nothing. I had a choice like that. I had the choice to leave Sophie and Luke alone.

I had the choice to not text Luke, as well as not follow the both of them around in my spare time trying to sneak pics like an obsessive freak.

But I couldn't help myself. I wanted Luke. I deserved Luke. All the girls talked about him, and all the guys wanted to be him.

He was everything a girl would want in a guy, and everything someone would want in a friend.

He was kind, caring, funny. He played the guitar- a bonus, if I do say so myself- and he was compassionate.

He made people feel like they mattered. And sometimes, that's enough to make someone fall completely, hopelessly, madly in love.

People who weren't his friend mourned over their loss, and people who were friends with him tried their hardest to keep him close.

They were envious of people like Aaliyah, who got to kiss him whenever and call him hers.

They were jealous of guys like Ashton, Calum, and Michael, who got to talk to him everyday without a second thought.

I guess nobody ever considered fawning over Luke's little sister, because normally, siblings don't get along so well.

His innocent, loving, careful little sister. She was dismissed by everyone as quickly as she was recognized- but not by me.

No, I knew who she really was. I saw her naivity, her cluelessness, and straight away it dawned on me that she had an unknown knack of luring people in with a charm she never knew she had.

She couldn't see how much of a great guy her brother was. She couldn't see how easy it was to fall in love with him, with his voice, his words.

She didn't deserve him. Not when she couldn't decipher how lucky she was to be so close to Luke all the time.

Sophie Eleanor Hemmings. When we were in Year 7, I spotted her in the busy crowd of Norwest students, and I hated her at first sight.

She had big, doe eyes that were filled with so much purity, that I knew she wouldn't survive the torturous halls of high school.

Little black bows. That's what she wore in her long, flowy hair, as well as a skirt much longer than it needed to be and an oversized cardigan.

She bumped into me that first day. God, I remember exactly what I said to her. I called her a freak, a pig, and I tugged on her hair with a force so unlike my own.

She was miserable. And as cynical as it sounds, as hateful as it is, I relished in the idea of having so much power over someone.

But my joy was put to an abrupt stop the very next day she came in.

She had finally taken those god awful black bows out of her hair, got a bag to match her new look, put make-up on and stood with a newly found confidence that completely angered me.