Chapter 21

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Luke's POV:

Death takes more than just a life. Death alters everything.

I never liked long flights. Yet I don't want to get off of this one. Because I know what's waiting when I get off. I wish I could just stay in this first class cabin forever with Jo in my lap, holding her tightly and doing everything I can to keep her asleep. To continue her refuge for as long as possible.

She wasn't even nervous when we took off like she normally is. More pressing matters were on her mind. The pilot beeps in telling us that were arriving, causing Jo's eyes to flutter open. Her confusion is obvious for a moment before she realizes why were here and the tears start to flow again.

I don't try to tell her it'll be okay; who the fuck could know if it would be. How are you supposed to cope when your best friend is suddenly gone.

I ease her into her own seat as the flight attendant approaches. Her hands are shaky as she fumbles with her seatbelt, so I take the straps from her and click them together. She gives me what assume is an attempt at a grateful smile but it doesn't make it through.

The plane landing is rough and she squeezes my hand so hard I feel like she might crush the bones to dust. Scott called ahead of us, explaining the situation to a buddy back home who arranged to get us. I guide her down the steep stairs of our private exit as she wipes her eyes.

It's odd, the balance of things. Some of it is blurring as it happens, while tiny obscure things are in vivid detail. It's dizzying, and I resist the urge to curl into a ball and shut out the world while we bump down the road. Everytime I feel tears welling in my eyes on the way home I look over at Jordan and I pull myself together as best I can. For her sake.

We don't pass her house and I'm glad. Instead we head straight for mine. Mum is waiting on the porch, her eyes sad. What Jordan does next surprises me. As soon as the car pulls to the curb her feet are on the pavement and she's running, hair flying behind her as she barrels into my mum's arms.

Mum stumbles slightly, but her arms lock around Jo like vices and she looks at me over my girlfriend's shoulder.

Her lips form the words 'you okay?'. I nod to her, gathering the small suitcases out of the trunk, watching her lead Jo inside. I give my thanks to the driver. As I drag the bags up the stairs, I try to block out the sound of the sobbing emitting from the couch.

I plop the bags down on my bed, letting my head fall into my hands as I run my fingers through my hair. I glance up at my closet doors to find two outfits hanging there.

Black dress, black dress shirt and black slacks. The creases on the pants are sharp and precise and I feel too messy to even think about having to wear them tomorrow. I snatch the hangers more aggresively than I need to, taking them to Ben's room that sits vacant now. No need for Jo to see them before she has to. 

When my legs finally carry me back downstairs, the sobs are gentle and subsiding. 

"Jo, sweetheart why don't you go take a shower? Might calm your nerves a bit," Mum suggests. Jordan nods slightly, wiping her nose on her arm before heading past me towards the bathroom upstairs. I sit on the couch in silence beside my mother for a while, listening to the water begin to run.

"Luke," her voice is cautious.

"Yeah mum?" 

"C'mere," she has tears in her eyes as she opens her arms to me. 

And as I curl up in my mother's arms, I regress. I'm no longer Luke Hemmings, I'm five year old Luke who wanted to be a big boy and ride Jack's bike down the front yard hill and ended up stumbling into the house with bloody knees. Seven year old Luke who jumped off the swing and twisted is ankle and had to hobble home. Twelve year old Luke who wore his favorite Good Charlotte shirt to impress Mackenize, and wore it in shame after she rejected him in front of her friends.

The sobs are violent. If the gasps and yells coming from my mouth weren't so loud, I swear you would be able to hear my ribs rattle together.

"Shhh, let it out baby, let it out," Mum's voice is tight as she cries alongside me, running her hand soothingly through my hair as I rest my head against her shoulder.

I cry until I feel like I might vomit. 

"Why'd she do it mum? Why'd she have to do it," I can't stop the words as they begin to roll off my tongue. 

"We were there mum. Jordan was there, was there. God we should have known, I should have fucking know she basically told me and I didn't fucking see it. I DIDN'T SEE IT," I yell out, not concerned with my profanity. 

"Luke Robert Hemmings now you listen to me. You did everything you could for Tyler, and so did Jordan. You were that girl's everything. And sometimes, there's nothing that you can do. You couldn't get in her head, but sweetheart that's not your fault. She had demons and they won, which is awful but it's what happened, and that's not your fault. Blaming yourself isn't going to help anyone.

I cling to every word, nodding and hugging her tighter. 

I hear the water shut off.

"Go, she'll need you. I love you Luke, never forget that," she eases me up off the couch, sending me upstairs.

I sit on my bed, grabbing my old acoustic from the corner. The feeling of the strings against my fingers is familiar and it calm me down, though my eyes are still raw from the tears. 

Jo comes back into my room wrapped only in a towel, hair down in a damp disarray. 

She rummages through my old clothes, fishing out some boxers and an old shirt. I go to move my guitar but she stops me.

"Play me something," she asks quietly. I nod, letting a few gentle riffs flow from the instrument and she closes her eyes, getting as lost as she can in the sound. 

She's silent for a long time, finally breaking the silence as my fingers still.

"How the hell are we gonna get through tomorrow?" She whispers the words, as if saying them too loud will make them real. I sit my guitar back in it's stand, flicking the light off and flipping the covers back. I shed my pants hastily, crawling into bed and pulling her beside me.

"Together. Were gonna get through it together."

stupid little things || luke hemmingsWhere stories live. Discover now