flipped :: lh [UNDER REVISION]

1o.cake

After a moment of awkward silence in which Luke tries to steady his breathing (it feels like he’s breathing abnormally loud) Calum starts the engine. The truck sputters, and clanks a bit before roaring to life – the smell of crude oil thick, and stale cigarettes more noticeable within the cab.

“Sorry,” Luke manages to breathe out the moment the truck settles in. The air is chilled down to an artificial-like conditioning that manages to creep beneath Luke’s skin. He’s still drowsy, and wonders just how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

Calum doesn’t respond as he backs the truck out of the driveway, his hands gripping the wheel tight enough that his knuckles are turning pale white, his lips taut in a line, eyebrows creased downwards. “Don’t worry about it,” he starts, “I’m the one who fucked up not you.”

There’s the little spaced out silence that lingers, the taste of grimy-breath and stale words still on the tip of his tongue. He’s not quite sure what to say to Calum, they just drive down the road, each bend seeming longer than the previous. Luke keeps his gaze fixed on the remnants of scrap paper burned at the edges that lie in a pile at the bottom of Calum’s truck. He didn’t figure Calum to be a pyromanic, but then again he hasn’t hung out with Calum long enough to know much about him.

Calum notices his sudden interest in the papers because he clears his throat a few times, and Luke’s suddenly hot from embarrassment. “Sorry,” Luke apologizes again.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna burn your house down mate,” Calum laughs lightheartedly. “They’re not mine anyways.” And that’s where he ends the sentence without a further explanation.

They finally reach a main road, and it’s a Friday morning, and Luke almost forgets that there is still school going on, that the world hasn’t stopped just for their seven o’clock arguments, and dreaded confrontations inevitably waiting at the end of the sunrise for them.

“School.” Luke mumbles, and if this had been any other day – Calum’s music beating loudly in the background – he might not have heard him. Calum only laughs in response, his eyes crinkling by the corners, and tongue poking out between his teeth.

It's known widely, in the school corridors as well as the whispered back and forth secrets of the teachers' lounge, that Calum Hood – as non-menacing and kindhearted as he is – skips school more than an enthusiastic little kid skips rope. (Okay maybe Luke never was so great at metaphorical talk, but hey, he tries his best not to sound like a pretentious asshole.) Calum never came across as that guy to Luke, well he’s not known anything about Calum other than the fact he’s one of the better football players, and best friend with one Aries DiLaurentis.

Luke, as it just so happens, is the only one lacking in this knowledge.

“I kinda wasn’t planning on attending?” Calum smiles innocently before he continues with a: “And I was hoping you would hang out – you know? Bro to bro bonding time. I’m sure you’ve never ditched but come on it’ll be fun.” And he’s hopeful, the familiar crinkles by his eyes are more prominent now.

“Uh.”

Calum sighs turning his attention from the road to Luke, “Come on it’ll be the first – and last, if you’d like – just go on this one adventure yeah?”

And Luke probably shouldn’t do it (mainly because he’s already in huge trouble – he never once mentioned to his mum he was staying the night at a friend’s, and knew he had at least twenty-two texts from her since this morning) but at the same time he figures, to himself, that if there ever were a time to be in even more trouble – that time is now.

He hums in thought for a while, mulls the idea over in his head before shrugging with a: “Sure what’s the worst that could happen?”

Calum laughs at this. “Ahhh, but where’s the fun in that?”