GOLDEN, luke hemmings

XXXII: DEJA VU

"Hello there, Sir," she greeted, stepping in and closing the door, locking it.

Luke cringed at the formality and had a sudden feeling of deja vu, not being able to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. "Ugh, don't call me Sir. It's not the most attractive thing."

Ava bit back a grin as the sentences brought back fond memories of when she first met the awkward and clumsy boy in front of her and placed the popcorn and soda on the kitchen island. "Sometimes I forget how much I hated you when we met."

"You did not hate me. I simply gave off a bad impression and it was awful, but don't deny it: you found me irresistible," Luke bragged, puffing up his chest and acting cocky. "When I first met you, I kinda wanted to sleep with you—"

Ava stopped him by throwing pieces of popcorn at his nose. She pelted him for a few minutes every time he'd try to finish his sentence and only ceased when his mouth did the same. "That's a great thing to say to your best friend. 'Hey, when I first met you, I just wanted to bang.' Beautiful, Hemmings. You know how to win a girl's heart."

"Okay, that sounded bad. But not in an objectifying way, I promise. Only a sexist asshole would think of women as mere sextoys, and I am no sexist asshole," Luke told her, hoping she didn't take what he said seriously because his words came out wrong, and he bit his lip while opening a can of soda, "But I recognize the fact that what I said was sexist even though it wasn't intended and for that I apologize."

Ava nodded and sipped on her root beer, hoisting herself up on the table top, swinging her legs back and forth as she thought to herself quietly. She did this often; finding herself silent when she had something to say. Truth was, she had more things on her mind that made her feel more panicky and sad than usual, and as usual, she had no idea what to do. It's like when she needed common sense and advice most, it flew away. She fiddled with her fingers and let out a deep breath, turning her head to stare out the window at the moon, rather than look at Luke. Looking at him made things harder for her to admit.

Luke just seemed so...so perfect to her and it was intimidating, especially since he seemed to be so unaware of it. He was her best friend, her partner in crime, and she loved him for it. She knew that she had told the blue-eyed boy numerous times that she loved him, but none would suffice or give justice to what she really felt for him. All of these bottled up feelings felt suffocated and swallowed up in her lungs and they muffled her brain because she wanted to scream at the top of every rooftop in the city how much she was in love with Luke Robert Hemmings—but to say and expose every piece of her heart just to him, as he gazed at her with that expression that made her melt every time and that signature smile on his face signaling that she could tell him anything despite the nervous glint in his eyes?

Damn near impossible for her.

She wishes—and she really does—that she was better at talking about her feelings and better at dealing with attachments, but she had never made a connection or bond before that was even close to resembling what she had with Luke. Everything was still so new to her, and she was afraid that she'd wreck something so special. After all, Luke was her best friend before he was anything else, and she wouldn't trade it for the world and all the stars.

"So, Loser, what'd you want to tell me about your sister and dinner? Honestly, you've got to work on your timing, babe. It's nearly 2 AM."

"My sister still thinks we're just friends because I haven't told anyone else that we're dating," Ava blurted out, glancing at Luke to see his reaction. "She asked me and I said that we're strictly and only friends, and that I only invited you because I'm close to you. But the dinner is set for a couple weeks when she's visiting with her fiancé."