chapter sixteen - fighting

chapter sixteen — fighting

LUKAS WAS MAD AT ME AND I HATED IT. The silence between us was deafening, his angry feet pointedly ignoring the rocks I kicked over in a lame attempt to start a game of kick-the-rock. I'd settled for a lonely game of guilt, the slight wind the only sign that summer was fast ending. A few stray leaves were scattered on the broken sidewalk, bailing out early before the rest of their friends would start to fall. Cowards.

My basketball was tucked snugly under my arm and I'd occasionally untuck it, pass it between my hands, and retuck it in an attempt to distract myself. It was impossibly quiet too, the only sounds in the neighborhood being the ones I was making. The scratching of my toes dragging on the sidewalk. The slap of plastic against my hand. The twisting of my stomach as I tried to remember a time when I didn't give a shit about hurting people's feelings. A time when I didn't know Lukas.

"If you're gonna be a little bitch the whole time, I'm just gonna call someone else to play ball with" I regretted it as soon as it left my lips, a frown forming on my lips as I looked over at him waiting for the tell-tale signs of guilt I knew so well. Instead, I was met with a stony gaze and stern lips.

Guilt choked me instead until my eyes watered. I absently scratched at my hand, nails tugging and snagging on the dry skin of my knuckles.

"Sure," He didn't even break stride, strolling past me as I stopped in my tracks. I felt funny. My chest ached like he'd punched me and I couldn't place why I felt like shit. Yeah, he was being a dick, but I was used to people being assholes. But not Lukas. Never. But why does it hurt?

I unconsciously pressed against my sternum, swallowing loudly trying to displace the lump in my throat as he finally slowed down at the edge of the sidewalk. He turned slowly, eyes dull and his hair messier than usual. It sucked up the sunlight, limp and crayon-colored like he was a kindergarten drawing. Maybe not perfect, but still art. Kindergarten me would have completed the drawing of the sour lemon-haired boy with a sun wearing sunglasses and a rainbow.

Dad wouldn't have put the drawing on the fridge.

"Who 'm I gonna call?" My voice faded at the end, eyes carefully watching as he sighed and started to walk closer. The court was maybe twenty feet away, but we hadn't made it. We were close, but we hadn't made it.

"You and Michael seemed to get along," He shrugged, eyes downcast. My mind wandered as I watched the toes of his shoes awkwardly dance around, his laces somehow undone.

"Your laces are untied"

"Oh"

He bent to tie it and I hurriedly shoved the basketball into his hands, catching him off guard. I popped a squat, one knee resting in the ground and I tried to tie his shoes as quick as I could. The weirdness of the situation struck me as I crossed the bunny ears, my neck warming under the strength of his confused gaze.

Why the fuck am I tying his shoes for him?

"Michael and I didn't get along by the way"

'Cause you want him to like you again, idiot.

I grabbed the ball back from him, instinctively dribbling it hard into the concrete. It hit the paving, bouncing off at an odd angle. Lukas redirected it at me, the ball bouncing off the top of his fingers. It crushed a straggling dandelion pushing up through the cracks and I paused in my track again. Lukas bumped into me, bending down to lift up the weed's broken stem.

We didn't say anything until we reached the court.

"What do you mean you don't get along?"

Meaning I cornered him in the kitchen and made him feel like shit. Meaning I was only friends with him because he was friends with you. Meaning people like him and people and I can't mix.

"We just don't"

I turned away from him, unzipping my jacket with my left hand as I started to dribble with the other. I needed to practice handling on my right side since I was better with my left.

"What do you mean you don't?"

His tone struck a nerve, my temper escalating to a dangerous height. Lukas knew that I got angry, but he'd never been on the receiving end. I didn't want him to be on the receiving end. I tried remembering what Dr. Gomez had told me, mind scattering to pull up all the mental screenshots I'd taken of Lukas' smile. My fingers flexed.

"Kieran, what do y—"

"—I told him he was a fucking loser Lukas. I told him that people like us and him would never mix. I told him—"

At this point I was talking so fast I couldn't breathe. My voice was getting lower, pitch starting to burn like tar and set in the little cracks of suspect Lukas had that I wasn't who he thought I was. I wasn't good.

"Why? Why did you tell him that?"

He was demanding, equally as angry. I could see it in his eyes. Why does he care so much? I'd seen it a few times before, never aimed at me the same way I'd never been angry at him. Yet here we were: an inch apart and under the sun, ready to fight.

I can't remember who moved first.

The blacktop was hot under my hands as Lukas shoved me down, quickly following up by pinning my shoulders to the gritty ground. The world tilted under my feet. I wrenched myself from his grip and we rolled, a mess of flying hands and kicking feet. Fights were never pretty, and they were never long. Fighting with Lukas seemed to last less than a second. We hadn't punched each other once the whole time, our hands curling around each other's clothes and pulling. Tugging. I squeezed his shirt in my fist so tightly my fingers popped.

I wanted him to hurt, but I didn't want to hurt him.

His hands wove into my hair, pulling at the roots so hard my eyes started to water. I shut them tightly, a stray tear escaping into my hairline as his knee pushed into my stomach forcefully. His other knee held my arm down, free hand pinning my wrist to my side. I struggled under him, my head slamming to the side as my cheek kissed the blacktop hungrily.

"Let go," My voice scratched, too quiet.

"Luk—"

He sprang off anxiously, his hand outstretched so I could take it. I ignored it, wiping the imprint of the ground from my face the best I could. I hated being pinned. Hated feeling small. Especially around Lukas.

My eyes wouldn't stop watering and I turned away roughly, hands wiping at the mess on my face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Keke" I felt Lukas behind me, stubbornly keeping my back turned. No one had ever seen me cry before.

Fuck stop crying. But I couldn't.

"Are you hurt?"

I shook my head no.

His hand grounded me, gently squeezing my shoulder as he tried to turn me around.

"Are you okay?" I cringed, my voice thick and snotty. I sniffed, hands gripping on my cheeks too tight as I willed the sun to vaporize me then and there so I could never cry again. So Lukas would never see me look like this.

"Yeah, just a little dirty" Lukas laughed softly, both his hands on my shoulders as he stepped closer. I could feel his entire body behind me, almost instinctively wanting to turn around.

I'd become used to knowing when he was close by. It was helpful in basketball.

"Are you really sorry?" I sniffed again, my tears less angry and more free-flowing. I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried, unwanted flashbacks to my childhood trying to invade my personal space.

"Honestly?" His breath fanned across my neck. He stepped back and I felt the loss soul deep.

"Always"

I kept my face tilted down, trying to turn in place as he walked around me. He fit himself into the space between me and the fence, the sound of his clothes snagging on the wires making me smile ever so slightly. He cursed under his breath, his hands reaching out to grasp at my shoulder again, this time pulling me into a loose hug. I didn't fight it, more concerned with the leak I needed to repair in my eyeballs. He felt warm.

"Then, no," I looked up fast, quickly looking down again when Lukas smiled shyly down at me like he'd expected the reaction. My eyes narrowed into slits, my embarrassment showing itself bubblegum pink on my skin.

"What do you me—"

"—No, I'm not sorry I beat your ass, but yeah, I'm sorry you're sad"

That was fair. I deserved to have my ass beat. He hadn't even done it justice.

I stayed quiet, my forehead dropping against his shoulder. He tightened his grip around me, my arms uselessly at my sides as I cried into his neck.

It was nice to just be held and not give a shit about who was holding you.

I stiffened when I remembered who was holding me and where we were. I'm crying in public. I tried pulling back, but Lukas hummed and awkwardly shuffled us over to the shaded spot behind the hoop. I'm not sure how, but he got us into a sitting position; we were closer than we'd ever been (excluding the situation I'd chosen to forget about), legs curled up but pressed together, shoulder to shoulder. I let my head lean back into the fence, feeling his arms press against my back as he curled it around me, threading his fingers into my hair.

This is wrong.

His hand passed through my hair gently, making a pattern as I let my tears air dry.

This is so wrong.

"Michael told me what happened" I could hear the sadness behind his smile and felt the pit of guilt in my gut reopen.

"When?" I whispered back, eyes not fully shut in case someone showed up and saw us. We were both on alert. Tense.

"This morning"

Comfortable silence passed between us for a moment, Lukas jumping a little when a sprinkler system spontaneously started. I chuckled, pulling off of him and sliding away. I rested my head on my arms. Pulling my legs into my chest I cradled them, not wanting to look at Lukas just yet. I couldn't shake the feeling of his arms around me, hand in my hair.

My skin felt like it was on fire, but it was too hot. Uncomfortable.

"I want to apologize to him"

I couldn't get Michael's smile out of my head: the one which made his eyes look hollow.

"He'll want a reason"

I looked at Lukas, confused.

"A reason as to why you made him feel like shit"

Oh.

"Does being a shitty person not qualify?"

Lukas laughed and I grinned.

"Unfortunately, no," Lukas smiled fondly, "He's too smart for that"

My smile was beginning to fade at the edges when he tapped my shoulder lightly.

"You have a good reason?" His inquisitive brown eyes stared into my own eyes and I blanched. I looked away from him, fingers starting to pick at each other again. The feeling was starting to sink back in. The feeling of guilt for burdening Lukas like I always did. Guilt for crying in public. Guilt for feeling the wrong things.

Guilt because I couldn't be strong.

"I'm not sure"

Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ     Δ

"Elisabeth's birthday is tomorrow so Michael will be there"

Our hands grazed on the console and I quickly pulled mine back into my lap. Lukas was driving me over to my dad's place for dinner and I wasn't sure if I wanted to leave the safety of the car just yet. He had one of those air fresheners plugged in that smelled like vanilla, and all I could think about were cupcakes. Though chocolate tasted better, vanilla definitely smelled like what I imagined heaven would smell like.

"I can apologize then, right?" I started wringing my hands in my lap, noticing all the random bruises scattered across my arms. They were greenish, light enough that you couldn't see them unless you were looking for them. They were new too. Probably from rolling around on the ground with Lukas.

"Yeah, the sooner the better" Lukas' hand traced one of my bruises, the coloring on the edges an ugly purple-red. His hands were ice cold and I looked at him weirdly, lips quirked up when I saw the small frown on his face. He feels guilty even though it's my fault. I pulled my hand away, unlocking the door and stepping out. The weather was starting to shift now, the humidity of the summer draining away and replaced with chilly breezes. I felt goosebumps run down my leg, shivering before stepping out.

"Hey, Luk–" I turned around, my face immediately smacked by a sweatshirt. It smelled like him.

"–sorry–"

"–I'm sorry"

We looked at each other for a whole five seconds, laughter bubbling up. I bent over, unable to keep the tears from rolling down my face as I laughed so hard my ribs ached. One hand on my stomach, I looked up through my hair to see Lukas in even worse condition. His whole face was red, laughing so hard there was no sound. His head rest against the steering wheel, hair making a little curtain like mine. Our eyes met. What the fuck is with us today?

"Fine, make me cry twice in a day, Schmitt"

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I–" I cut him off with a laugh, grinning when he flushed and rolled his eyes.

I straightened up, shaking my head and wiping at my face with the palm of my hand. I pulled the sweatshirt he'd thrown over my head, the warmth catching me off guard. It felt like he was hugging me again. I blanched.

I pulled it off, hesitantly throwing it into my seat.

"I'll be inside anyway, don't need it" I reasoned and he shrugged in agreement. I turned to face the house from the street, bleach white picket fence making sure I didn't dare cross the lawn. A few gardenias were planted by the entrance, right next to a cleverly placed bush so no one could peek inside. The grass was green.

Our grass was never green.

"You gonna be good?"

I nodded mutely, offering Lukas a tight-lipped smile before unlocking the fence and walking to the other side. That was it. No going back. A dog started barking from inside the house and I grimaced, already turning to see if I could leave. Lukas looked at me sternly, waving and starting his car.

"Bye Keke"

I waved back lacklusterly, hand still in the air when he was long gone.

I didn't want to go inside just yet.

The door opened and I stiffened, hands grasping at air loosely at my sides. My shoes scuffed against the cobblestone path leading up to the porch stairs, my head tilted down. The screen door creaked open. My stepmom's heels were short and pink, the hint of a hidden tattoo peeking right above the strap. She was wearing a long dress, hair done up all nice and lipstick smeared to match her shoes.

"Kieran, just in time for grace" She smiled.

I didn't.

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2589 words

I'm so sorry for not updating in so long! Some things have been happening in my personal life that made it a little hard to write (I know I said I'd try not to let my personal life affect my writing, but I had to swap priorities for a little while). That being said, I'm all good now and I hope you're all the same. Stay safe and stay healthy :)

How did you like this chapter? A little dramatic, I know, but I felt like a little drama could help move things along.

How do you think Kieran's family dinner with his father is going to go?

Thank you so much for reading and have a wonderful week! :) <3