alumni ➢ luke hemmings [DISCONTINUED]

1.8 ➢ Me.

Quite stupidly, might I add; we're in a back booth and unless Bethany Morane has completely lost her mind and is now the sort of person to speak to freshly painted brick walls, I feel like an idiot.

"Yes, you," she says forcefully, painting on yet another smile that borders between fake and genuine. From beside her, Luke shakes his head, and he hides his amusement by taking another drink.

"Oh," I say, my voice dropping in the same way as my head.

"Uh... why?"

"Why?" she repeats, as if it's the most absurd thing she's heard today.

And it probably is; Bethany seems to think that people know every little thing she's doing regardless of them really having no clue.

Chloe says it's paranoia; Ashley says it's narcissism. "Oh, you know why!"

"I do?"

"You do," she says suggestively, her head nodding in an erratic manner, "Of course, I'd expect you to. You're the only one who hasn't done initiati-"

"Oh," my eyebrows raise, and my gaze falls to the floor. Suddenly, Bethany's excitement doesn't entertain me anymore; it actually makes me feel a little bit sick.

I can tell she wants to talk to me about it, maybe ask why I haven't bothered to bring it up to the other fraternity presidents despite having well over enough time to do so. And there's a little part of me that expects to be scolded, too— I've come to terms with the fact that the pretty smile on her face can sometimes be nothing but deceiving.

"Mhm," she nods again and I'm sheepish again and Luke's looking at me again with another expression I can't read. It's a face I can't fathom and I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me uncomfortable. "The last one on the list, the special case,"

I can't tell whether I should take being a 'special case' negatively, or bring it into a more positive light just so I can make myself feel better.

In the end I opt for a fake smile and a nervous laugh, one that obviously doesn't go unnoticed on Luke's part- he just rolls his eyes.

"Is that a good thing, or..?"

"It means you're behind," he grumbles, sitting up with his jaw locked and his eyes on the table. I'm half tempted to kick him underneath it, or nudge his knee with mine at least; he was acting nowhere near this grumpy before Bethany came along.

That, and I was genuinely convinced that I could somehow lure Bethany into a trap of lies; lies about my false success, at least for tonight. It would have something to do with Michael, and I'd have to send a quick- wholeheartedly risky- text his way tomorrow morning to warn him of it, right before she went to confirm the lie in order to avoid any more potential awkward conversations. And then everything would sort itself out, the pieces falling into place, one way or another.

Only now, I doubt I can get as far as twisting a simple truth into a blatant lie. Luke knows now, Bethany has known since I asked for an extension, and I'm pretty sure the prestigious people eavesdropping in on our conversation two rows back know about it, too; I'm the special case who has yet to plant her lips on anybody.

And quite frankly, maintaining the title has gotten to be pretty damn exhausting. It's hard procrastinating when you have a fear of disappointing other people, it really is.

"Beth, here's the thing..."

I'm just about to give in, to admit to Bethany that all I've done these past couple of days is plan my prose coursework and read a book that isn't due until well after the Christmas break. That the most I've done for Delta is step foot into the house, that the only people I've interacted with properly is her and Chloe when I'm supposed to have a bond with all of my other 'sisters', too— but I don't get the chance, for I'm rudely interrupted by none other than the strict blond next to her.