THE FOLLOWING DAY, I sit across from Luke at the very same kitchen counter around which we'd held our argument the previous night. Books and papers are strewn out all along the counter before us, and Luke ruffles through the seemingly endless pile in an attempt to find a practice quiz for me to complete.
"I can just print one off," I tell him for the millionth time, tapping my pen against the counter.
"Shut up," he retorts, continuing to sift through the papers. "And stop tapping. It's fucking annoying."
I sigh, but drop my pen down on the table nonetheless. Ever since our argument, Luke had been acting particularly hostile towards me — almost as if I'd greatly offended him by telling him I hate him. After a moment, Luke finally finds the paper and smacks it down in front of me.
"You need seventy-percent," he tells me, still avoiding eye contact as he gathers the papers together.
"What? I only need fifty to pass," I correct him, frowning across even though he won't look at me.
"I want you to get seventy," he says.
"Luke, I can't get seventy," I roll my eyes at his high expectations. Why was he trying to punish me like this? "I can barely scrape a passing grade, let alone a high one."
Luke finally turns to look me dead in the eyes, slamming his pile of papers back against the counter. "You'll get seventy," he demands in an eerily low, wavering voice.
For a moment I sit in silence, stunned by his outburst, before ultimately deciding that I won't stand for being spoken to in that way. "You're pushing me too hard," I tell him, shaking my head.
"I'm making sure you pass this unit," he counters in that same eerie tone.
"Exactly! Pass this unit, not get a seventy!" I throw my arms up by my side, frustrated at Luke's lack of empathy. "I'm doing the best I can, and at the moment that's not even a passing grade!"
Luke slams his hands down on the counter, making me jump in my seat, and leans forward menacingly. "I'm the tutor, not you!" He yells across at me. "If I tell you to get a seventy, do it!"
"You're punishing me!" I burst out, the words spilling out of my mouth in a scream.
"What?" Luke freezes, caught off guard by my comment.
"You're upset about what I said to you last night — about hating you," I remind him, watching as his blue eyes narrow and waver. "I don't know why, but you are."
Without a word, Luke begins gathering his papers messily, not even bothering to organise them as he normally does, and shoves them into a Manila folder. I watch him in awe as Calum sails down the stairs from where he had been sitting in his bedroom.
"Where are you going?" I ask Luke as he stands up from his stool. "We're not done here."
"Oh, I'm certainly fucking done," Luke retorts, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Is everything okay?" Calum is at the bottom of the stairs now, his eyes flicking back and forth between us. "I heard yelling."
Luke spins around to face Calum. "Everything's fucking dandy," he says with a sarcastic smile. "Your sister is just being the pretentious, stuck-up little bitch she's always been and I'm not in the mood for her attitude today."
Calum stares back at Luke in surprise, eyes wide and mouth propped open as he stands there wordlessly. I roll my eyes, knowing my brother won't stand up for me, and turn to Luke myself. "You're being ridiculous," I tell him as he swings the front door open.
"Make sure that work's done for the next session," Luke grumbles, and before I can respond he's out the door and down the driveway.
I shut the door behind him and let out a sigh as I turn back to a surprised Calum.
"What the hell was that about?" He asks, following me as I walk into the kitchen and begin clearing my Spanish notes.
"Just Luke being Luke," I muse, though even I know it was more than that this time. However, I didn't particularly want to tell Calum about my interaction with Luke the previous night, though I wasn't exactly sure why.
"That was not usual Luke behaviour," Calum calls me out — god, having a twin who could practically read your mind sucked sometimes.
"That's what he's like, Calum!" I turn to him with wide eyes. "He's rude, and mean, and nasty, and so much worse when you're not around!"
Calum is silent for a moment, taking in my presumably frazzled appearance. "I'll talk to him," he utters softly.
"No, don't bother," I sigh and run a hand roughly through my hair. "It won't change anything."
"Rory," Calum places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing softly, his brown eyes boring straight into my own. "I'll talk to him."
I know that whatever Calum says won't change Luke's behaviour — this was years of damage we were talking about here — but I knew that it would at least grant him peace of mind. And that's the only reason that I say, "Okay."
—
That Friday night, Calum and I climb into the car at six-thirty sharp, en route to the basketball game against our rival school.
Though neither of us played in the team — or had any athletic talent whatsoever — we both had people we wanted to watch play. Calum was going to watch Luke, and I was going to watch Ashton, who had invited me to the game earlier this week — granted, I probably would've ended up tagging along with Calum regardless, but this was a much better reason to attend.
I climb into the driver's seat — a rare occurrence for me, given Calum is usually the one to drive — and twist around in my seat to get a clearer view out the back window as I reverse out of the driveway.
"We're picking Luke up, by the way," Calum informs me, and I don't have to look at him to know he's already giving me the puppy dog eyes.
"What?" I groan, glancing briefly at the clock radio. "Shouldn't he be there already? The game starts at seven."
"It actually starts at seven-thirty," Calum blurts out nervously, tapping his fingers against the dashboard. "I told you it was seven so we would get there on time."
I glare at Calum briefly before focusing back on the road. "You just didn't want to tell me we were taking Luke," I expose him, but indicate to turn left onto Luke's street nonetheless.
"I love you," Calum leans over and pecks my cheek gently, to which I shake my head but smile nonetheless.
"Yeah, yeah," I pull up out the front of Luke's house and slam my palm against the horn. "Just get your bitch out here already."
Calum glares at me, his eyes begging me to be kind as Luke jogs out of his house, clad in the basketball team's hoodie and grey tracksuit pants, a duffel back strewn over his left shoulder and a basketball tucked under his right arm. The moment he climbs into the back seat I take off, not waiting for him to fix his seatbelt on.
"Evening, Puke," I call out, eyes fixed on the road but attentive to my rear view mirror as I watch for Luke's reaction.
"Whore-y Rory," Luke retorts almost instantly, and I internally scowl at the fact that his insulting nickname for me is far better than the one I had given him. "Calum, why the hell is she driving?"
Ever since I'd acquired my driver's license, Luke had maintained that I was a terrible driver. We had had one incident in the car where I almost reversed into somebody, but no damage was done and everyone was safe — a near miss, you might say. Regardless, Luke continued to tease me and sometimes even refused to get in if I was driving — never mind the fact that he always drove ten above the speed limit and Calum barely ever watched the road.
"She's not that bad," Calum defends me, but after a contesting glance from Luke he shrinks back into his seat. "Besides, you know I can't parallel park in those spots by the gym."
Luke scoffs and shakes his head, blue eyes turning to gaze out the window. "How either of you got your license is a modern day mystery."
"Just be grateful for the lift," I retort, hoping it will end the whole debacle.
"Why are you even coming to the game?" A smirk grows across Luke's lips as soon as the question escapes them. "Can't resist seeing me in my uniform?"
I throw him a glare of disgust in the mirror for a brief moment. "I would rather stab my own eyes out with a wooden spoon," I spit. "Ashton invited me."
"Oh," Luke's lip turns up in a filthy scowl, and he turns back to look out the window. "I forgot he was playing."
"Isn't he, like, your best player?" I ask as I pull into the parking lot. There were hardly any cars in there yet, and I mentally slapped Calum for forcing us to come so early.
"No," Luke denies instantly.
"He's pretty good," Calum admits, shrugging. "He—"
"Alright shut up now, I'm parking," I almost yell, silencing the car as I shift into reverse and spin the wheel as far as it will go in preparation for my parallel park. I twist my body around so that I can see out the back window and press gently on the accelerator. Once I know I'm far back enough, I begin turning the wheel back to straighten the car. I glance briefly in the rear view mirror before turning back to the back window, but this time all I can see is Luke's stupid head. "Luke! Move!"
Luke doesn't respond, only begins making faces at me and moving his head to block my view each time I try to peer around him.
"Do you want to get inside for warm up?" I ask him, cocking my brow at him. I smile in satisfaction when he pouts and sits back down, leaving the back window fully clear. "Thank you."
After a couple more minutes and a few attempts at straightening the car, I finally complete the park and switch the car off.
"About time," Luke grunts, climbing out of the car and pulling all of his gear out with him. I roll my eyes but choose not to respond as we all climb out and enter the gym.
Inside, the gymnasium is entirely empty aside from the two basketball teams, who are running up and down the court to warm up. I let out a sigh at the sight — I really didn't want to be here, but if I left now I'd lose my parking spot, and I was not prepared to attempt that parallel park again in front of a parking lot full of cars.
"You guys can sit by the interchange bench," Luke instructs, gesturing to the row of seats directly behind said bench. We quickly comply, sitting where we were told to as Luke climbs over the railing surrounding the court and drops his bag on the side, joining the other boys.
They high-five and man-hug him, someone even passing him a basketball and gesturing for him to make a shot at the ring, which he does — and misses. I snicker from the stands, earning a light whack from Calum.
"Stop being so mean," my brother tells me with a frown.
"I'm just treating him how he treats me," I respond — I thought it was a pretty fair exchange.
"I spoke to him the other day — he's going to make an effort," Calum informs me, and I turn to meet his sympathetic brown gaze. I find it hard to believe that Luke would ever agree to such a thing, and even if he had I don't expect him to actually follow through — not when it was just the two of us, anyway.
"We'll see," I muse, turning back to the court.
"Rory—" Calum begins, his tone disapproving, but before he can continue he is cut off by a chirpy, loud voice.
"Rory!" Ashton exclaims, leaning over the railing to press a kiss to my cheek. "You came!"
"Of course I did," I beam back at him, my cheeks surely red from the peck. I don't have to look beside me to know that Calum is awkwardly trying to pretend like he's not overbearing our conversation, but I do my best to ignore him. "How are you feeling for the game?"
"Pretty good!" Ashton beams chirpily — was this boy ever sad? He leans in closer and drops his voice, a smirk playing on his face. "Don't tell anyone, but I think we've got this one in the bag. Finals here we come, baby!" Ashton pumps his fist in the air, and I giggle at his excitement. "Anyways, I'd better get back before Coach sees me."
"Sure," I can't wipe the smile off my face as I talk to Ashton. "Good luck out there."
"Thanks," he smiles back. "And hey, meet me after the game? The guys and I usually grab a bite afterwards — you should come!"
"Oh," I'm slightly taken aback by the offer, but am quick not to let it show as I nod in agreement. "Sure. I'll find you."
"Perfect. Bye!"
Ashton runs off and I watch as he swoops in to meet the rest of the guys, steals the ball swiftly from Luke's hands and shoots a neat three-pointer. He turns to me and winks, and I swear I feel my heart burst at the action. Meanwhile, Luke stands in the corner with an extremely annoyed expression.
"You guys are disgusting," Calum comments from beside me, making a vomiting sound — accompanied by what seems to be an action replay of the night of our seventh birthday party after Calum ate too much cake — and I smile and shake my head at him.
"Shut up," I say, and shove his face away from me in order to make him do so, my eyes drifting back to the court where all they can see is a once again mysteriously miserable Luke.