alumni ➢ luke hemmings [DISCONTINUED]

2.4 ➢ A Cabin.

SOPHIE HAYES

My legs are crossed on the leather seat of Luke's car as I stare out at the trees whizzing by, the cold, brisk air of whatever month it is (I'd think, but there's enough occupying my brain already) hitting my face before we pull up at a stoplight and I can sense his burning gaze on me. I don't think Luke means for his looks to be so intimidating, but they are; he probably can't help it.

The car ride hasn't been awkward, mostly silent. He has his occasional twitches where, for a split second, I feel like he has something to say and is about to let it out- but then his shoulders relax, his jaw tightens, and he just doesn't. I'd ask, but then he'd give me an answer. And I've learnt the hard way that most of the time, the answers I manage to get from Luke aren't the answers that I want.

"Where are we going?"

"That's the eighth time you've asked me that,"

"And that's the seventh time you've counted how many times I've asked, but you still haven't told me," I say. That's probably the longest sentence I've  said today, and to my relief, it makes him smile a little.

Though again, it's not a proper smile. I don't know what it is about Luke Hemmings, but I don't think he can smile. A grin is out of the question. I've seen him in official Alumni documents, tagged photos on Instagram, even numerous off-guard SnapChats; none of them show anything past the tiniest, most irritating smirk that the world is lucky enough to see every now and again.

"Where's the element of surprise?"

"Back in my dorm room," I note, "Which we left an hour and a half ago. Are you taking me to another city?"

Silence. Oh no.

"Luke," I sit up abruptly, "Don't tell me you're taking me to another city,"

"Why?"

"Because!" I groan, before realising that I have no true excuse. So what if he drives us to another city? I have nothing on my to-do list apart from Initiation and I highly doubt Bethany would give me hell for not showing up to one meeting. Especially if I had Luke by my side.

"I'm not,"

"Why are you smiling, then?"

"Huh? I'm not smiling,"

Worth a shot. "Then where are you taking me?"

"Calm down, okay? It's just this place on the outskirts of New York,"

"That sounds dodgy,"

"Dodgier than Central Park?"

I pause. "Good point."

"Mhm,"

We're quiet again. The song on the radio is the type to get overused, the one melody that everybody knows yet nobody goes out of their way to listen to. I can tell Luke has a distaste for it because when he reaches over, his fingers are quick to crank the volume all the way down.

"Not a fan?" I mumble.

"I'd rather talk to you."

It would sound cute, taken out of context. If his eyebrows weren't furrowed and his words hadn't come out in a grumble, my heart probably would have flipped. But I have to remind myself that there are a lot of things in this world that put Luke in a sour mood, and that song is definitely high up on the list.

"What?" he asks. It's only now I realise I've been staring.

"Nothing, nothing." I'm quick to reply. He just nods, propping his elbow up against the driver's side window.