outlines ✰ l.h.

chapter nine

"My two best friends are guys, I'm used to it." I told him. It was actually refreshing to talk to a guy that was conscious about what they said around girls, especially one sitting right next to them on a mini sofa. Usually a guy would try to make a move whether or not they liked the girl, any hook up seemed to be good for them. Luke definitely had a different mind set than the majority of guys are our school.

"Irwin," he began. "How's he?"

"Ashton?" I raised my eyebrow at Luke, unsure as to why he was even asking about Ashton. "I'm guessing he's good, he was late for work today and almost saw me naked, but that's nothing new." I shrugged, glancing between the TV then to Luke.

"I'm guessing there's a story behind this?" He questioned.

"He picked me up last night and took me home and I didn't remember in the morning and I walked downstairs in a towel to find him passed out on my couch." I explained, getting a snicker from him. "I'm glad you find humor in my embarrassment." I said.

"I'm a great person if you look past the part that I find joy in people's humiliation." He laughed, now sitting back up and bumping my shoulder with his.

"This is why we're friends." I said, peering over at him.

"Friends?" Luke looked over to me with a smile that he suppressed. "You're just the girl I hangout with in ISS," he said. I raised my eyebrows at him, noticing how hard he was trying to keep a straight face.

I narrowed my eyes at him, "You're a shitty liar." I told him. He hit my knee with his which got me to look up at him.

"You sound like my parents." He replied, biting down on his tongue to keep him from saying anymore.

"They aren't wrong." I told him, watching as he rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirt.

"I'm a terrible liar because I hate lying." He muttered, his tone going more serious. His tone was a bit unreadable, I couldn't tell if he was joking or genuinely mad or upset. It was confusing to even comprehend how it changed the mood of the conversation.

He moved back into his position where he first was, his back on the arm of the couch except this time instead of curling his legs up he rested them on my lap. I looked over to him, seeing that he was staring right back at me.

"Who wears shoes in their own house?" I questioned, glancing down at his shoes that laid over my thighs.

"Me, that's who." He laughed, crossing his ankles over each other.

"Two truths and a lie," I started, getting a confused look from him. "Have you ever played it?" I asked. He just shook his head at my question and I cleared my throat. "It's really simple, actually. You say three statements about yourself, two of them are true and one is a lie. The other person has to figure out which one is a lie." I explained.

"I'll play," he said. "You go first." He insisted, running the tip of his finger over his lip ring.

I rested my arms over his legs as I thought about what I was going to say. I tapped on my chin a few times as I collected my thoughts and started the game.

"I'm an only child," I said, raising one finger to count my own sentences. "I was the one to crash prom last year, and I don't wear my shoes around my house." I watched him shake his head at me from my last fact. "So what's the lie?" I asked.

"Well, from the fact that you just shamed me for wearing shoes in my house, that's not it." He replied. I nodded my head at him to let him keep going. "I don't know if you're actually an only child, but we all know it was Michael who crashed prom last year, so you didn't actually crash prom." He pointed out, making the story of Michael ruining prom run through my head.