Part Thirty

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"I'm going to puke."

"Luke, you're gonna be fine."

"No, I feel sick, I can't do this, I'm going to loose my Nachos."

"Fucking hell Luke, shut up!"

Glancing up from the ground where I was sitting in the corner eating banana chips I watched as Michael stood up from his chair and glowered down at Luke who was slumped on the floor while Calum knelt next to him rubbing his back.

"What's wrong?" I questioned, spraying crumbs all over my history book.

"Luke's having a moment." Michael sighed, rolling his eyes.

"There's so many people," Luke moaned.

"They're not even all here yet buddy," Calum informed him gently.

"No, nope, I can't!" Luke gasped out, ripping his shirt over his head.

"What is he doing?" A girl in a leotard questioned.

"I don't know why don't you stare at him!" Michael snapped.

Her eyes widening, the girl slipped into the large crowd of kids waiting for the school's talent show to begin.

"Luke man, you've got to calm down," Calum sighed, watching as Luke paced around gripping his hair.

"I can't!" Luke whisper shouted, on that verge of where he was either going to start crying or just get all red in the face, I wasn't sure which yet, "Your Dad isn't here with the costumes Michael! I forgot my part, I can't remember the last time I peed, what if I have a bladder infection and to top it all off Charlotte is going to be here!"

"So?" Calum questioned.

"So, what if I look stupid in front of her!" Luke shouted, "She'll never marry me!"

"Geez Luke, Marriage?" Michael chuckled, "A bit early don't you think?"

"No!" Luke snapped, "I have to date her now, propose when we're twenty three, get married and have kids by twenty four so we can be young cool parents and live happily after with our two sons named Kurt and Sid and our daughter Delilah."

"Delilah?" Calum questioned.

"So I can sing Hey there Delilah to her," he explained, "And my sons are anmed after Kurt Cobain from Nirvana and Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols."

"You already named your future kids?" Michael laughed.

"Yeah, haven't you?" He replied.

"I can't say that I have," I admitted.

"No," Michael added, "But I do know I want to live in a mansion with tons of babes in bikinis like that rich dude with the girls, what are they squirrels, or chipmunks or bunnies or something. And I want a pet lion that I walk on a gold chain named Daniel."

"I just want a family that loves me," Calum admitted, "Maybe like a son and a daughter, a wife obviously, a dog maybe."

"That's cute," Michael snorted, "You can live in my basement and cut my lawn with toenail scissors."

Calum opened his mouth to reply however was cut of by a high pitched shriek.

"Mikey buddy! No fear, Daddy's here!"

"Kill me, please." Michael pleaded turning to look at me.

Giving him a sympathetic look I watched as Mr. Clifford ran in wearing a much too tight, flashing Christmas sweater, much to the amusement of our classmates around us.

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