hear you - malum

saturday - march eleventh

i feel the rusted out grinding over the front door against the wall, and turn my head. there he is.

nobody accompanies him, i notice, as the door shuts behind him and the tall blonde stands in the front hallway. he waves, and in his other hand i notice two brown paper bags.

he joins me on the couch. i smile at him, but he's frowning at me. "phone?" i catch.

i tell him with my hands that it's broken, but i don't tell him it was me that broke it.

he shrugs and pulls out two takeaway boxes, one with sloppy black marker written across the top. i can't read it, but i'm guessing it's the order in the container. luke gives me the box without writing on it and i open it. chicken tenders and my favorite french fries stare me in the face.

i tap him and give him a thanks before digging in.

we don't talk much. luke doesn't force conversation, which is great for me. we eat and play video games for a while, and then luke looks back at the door with his eyebrows raised in confusion. he holds up one finger as to say 'one sec,' and gets up, leaving me to pause the great game of pro-wrestling we were having. it was great because i was winning.

i watch luke open the door, and tears threaten to spill when i see a flash of red hair and black boots. michael?

i can see his eyes flicker from luke to me and back, his lingering gaze sending shivers down my arms and raising the hair on my legs. why is he here?

luke lets him in, making my heart speed up and my breathing hitch. the last person i want to see is michael. i already hardly wanted to see luke, and now this asshole is here.

"hey," he says. i push away the longing feeling that wants to settle in my stomach like butterflies and vomit. "can we talk?"

i give luke a 'help me' stare, but he looks everywhere but at me, so i'm left to sigh and nod and lead michael to my backyard.

i raise an eyebrow expectantly. he bites his lip. in this moment i wish i could speak, so i could say, "well?" in a very annoyed tone.

"listen, i'm sorry about thursday." i stare, confused. why is he apologizing? sure, he kind of broke my heart twenty times, but he couldn't have known that.

"luke told me about your uh... feelings," he continues, and my eyes widen until i'm sure i look like a creepy doll. "you're great and all, calum, you really are... but i'm straight, and i have a girlfriend. khloe, remember?"

i frown at the mention of psycho-bitch's name. what he sees in her, i'll never know. i sigh. this one-sided conversation thing doesn't work, it never works.

i debate pulling out my phone and typing a note, but i can't. it's broken on the floor in my bedroom. instead, i nod, hold back tears, and walk back into the house. i've never handled rejection well.

i glare at luke for a second before pointing at the door. by now tears are starting to leak and i didn't want anyone to see me cry.

"what? are you telling me to fucking leave?" he says. i thank my ears for not working so i don't hear his angry tone.

i nod and point again. "out," i mouth.

"fine. whatever, calum." he starts walking, but then he spins around and comes right up to me, his face inches from mine. i feel like crying, like leaning against the wall and sobbing until there's no more tears, but i hold my ground. "i am so sorry you're a fucking faggot, calum. you're a fag, and you're never gonna get a boyfriend, because you're deaf." he's talking so fast i can hardly keep up. i can tell he's yelling, which makes it worse.

then he laughs. "you can't even hear me," he says, and leaves my house without another word.

i forget michael is still in the backyard when i fall to my knees, my hands in my face as i shake with sobs.

i flinch when his hand falls on my shoulder. through the blur of tears i see red hair and bright eyes.

i can't read his lips, and even after i wipe my eyes and try to focus, my vision is ultimately too hazy with tears.

after a while, michael sits on the couch, watching me. there's nothing he can do and in this moment we both feel helpless. i hate it.

i stop crying. i stand up, grab the whiteboard and dry erase marker from the kitchen counter, and sit next to michael. his eyes watch the board as I write.

'you should go'

he takes it from me, and writes a reply.

'no, im here for u'

we talk like this for a while. it cheers me up.

then he writes, 'if i were gay, you'd be my first choice. ;)'

i laugh.
'thanks. too bad you're not. :('

'aw, callie, its okay you'll find someone'

i stick my tongue out at the nickname. i like it, though.

'callie??'

'it's cute, and you're cute. like, not manly.'

'hey!'

'it's okay. i don't like manly guys'

'you don't even like guys'

';)'

after that, he writes that he has to leave and gives me the longest, warmest hug of my life.

today has been a terrible day, but at least michael made it a percent less terrible than it would've been.

a/n: shoutout to michael for not being as big of a dick as luke