flipped :: lh [UNDER REVISION]

19.particles of the universe

He wonders how many times he’s done that – and how many negatives have come from such a trait.

Although when he looks into the gathering of bodies a few feet from them, he can’t seem to catch a glimpse of her. No hazel eyes staring back, no long brown hair that curls at the edges on the more humid days, no Aries. As he looks out at the faces of the crowed he wonders when word got out that Luke Hemmings was beaten to practically a pulp by Carver yet again. How many people didn’t care to turn a second glance until they’d heard that Luke was defended by another boy, Michael Clifford. He can’t stop his mind from wandering to the endless possibilities that paint him as what he is – a loser. He realizes nothing really changed at all – even with everything around him changing, Luke had remained constant through it all.

There’s so much sound, horrible sounds of people cheering, tossing crude words around, jeering, and prodding at the three in the middle of it all. Luke’s stunned, doesn’t move much unless it’s to shift his weight onto a different leg, his leg is throbbing with aches and pains. He just wants to lay down and sleep, sleep until he can’t remember one bit of what is happening right then, right there.

He’s scanning the faces of people who look familiar in that way of a stranger passing on the street – a someone you’ve swore you’ve seen but never can quite put a name to the face – sees those he’s never seen before, and even worse off – he sees Aries. Finally catches her eye in the crowd. It doesn’t take him much more than a quick glance to have recognized the familiar hazel irises that glint green in the daylight. Her hair cascading down the side of her face in even waves, he wonders what she sees of him, what she thinks of him.

He realizes he’s bloodied a bit here and there, a few bruises are showing up on his forearm. It’s hard to ignore the sharp pain that ignites at the edge of his jaw. There’s nothing too serious, but Aries keeps her attention trained on him. Fixated on his every move, when he winces she winces, when he shifts his weight over, she anxiously moves to the side – trying her best not to be lost to the crowd.

Luke can’t help but to remember the time she told him that she’s claustrophobic. How Luke pulled her into a hug she was reluctant to return – how warm her arms felt when she finally wrapped them around his neck. Luke’s not even focused when Carver moves toward him again, Michael quickly taking steps to block Luke out – like they’re nine and Luke was bullied about having to wear glasses for a year. How Luke so desperately wanted the bright red frames until a few other kids his age were mocking him. Michael had blocked Luke then – Luke had pretended that if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t hurt him.

He learns how wrong he was a few moments proceeding. Carver brushing past Michael with a swift movement, making his way toward Luke and why? Why does he hate him so much to the point he literally has to physically attack him. What had Luke done? What is Luke doing wrong?

Luke braces himself, pulls his arms toward his face to block it, and waits for the impact that never comes. Soon enough he hears Michael swearing in a jumbled mass of words. Left and right he’s in the way of Luke and Carver – bringing his fists up to meet with Carvers.

“Dammit Luke get the fuck out of here already.” Are the only words Michael speaks in the span of time he’s been here with Luke. Two minutes, maybe even longer. It feels like forever and Luke’s stunned.

“Luke come on.” Aries yells over the voices of everyone else. Luke’s surprised he even heard her, her voice usually soft and barely carries over a small group of people.

He turns back to Michael one last time, his hair is red Luke thinks. He dyed it red.

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