Exams were probably the only thing that stressed me out as much as the dangerous expeditions I went on in Emiarhia. That said, it had been a while since the last time I'd felt the familiar pressure that came with cramming for a final. Everyone goes through at least one hyper-stressful study session per semester, but it had been so long I honestly couldn't remember what it felt like to be properly prepared. At least, for better or worse, I was well versed with being thrown into schoolwork right after a busy day of, you know, almost dying. It'd been five months since I discovered Emiarhia, after all. Things on that planet never really got easier – easier to deal with, maybe, but not simpler. I couldn't complain, though. I much preferred having my head forcibly screwed on straight than chopped off. Kadia would never allow it any other way. If only she could've helped me cram for finals...

Like most students, I had four subjects to study: English, math, chemistry, and biology. Exams took place over the course of five days, and each one lasted two hours. On Friday night, Oceanside High was going to hold its annual Winter Formal, and Christmas was just two days later.

I wrote my English final on Monday. The questions weren't too tough, but there was a fair amount of them. We had to pick two of four short stories and write a well-structured essay comparing and contrasting the way the authors wrote their narratives. In my opinion, I thought I'd done a pretty good job of summarizing how the authors used different styles and perspectives to tell the stories, and I had no doubt I'd get a solid grade on the test.

My next test was on Tuesday, and it was math. My brain felt like mush by the time I finished answering all the questions. I did, however, manage to pass with an at least decent mark. I wondered if there was any point in learning quadratic functions or how to find the area under a curve, considering there was a considerable chance I wouldn't be around in a year. It wasn't the most uplifting thing to think about, so I quickly pushed the thought out of my head.

It was barely noon when the test ended. Spencer and I had plans to go to the mall afterward to shop for the dance. As much as I found shopping overwhelming, I was looking forward to hanging out with her. She had been the one to suggest going to the Winter Formal, and I didn't mind going because it seemed like a fun way to close out the semester and year. The dance was supposedly a huge event. I could use a bit of fun.

"What about this?" I asked, holding up a silver sequin dress against my body.

Spencer, who was looking at a rack of dresses, glanced over at me. She scrunched her face. "Eh, it's cute, but you could do better."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." I returned the dress to the rack and went back to searching.

The mall was packed with people getting last-minute items for the holiday. There were a ton of Christmas carols being played over the intercom, and the stores had their doors open wide, allowing everyone to see their elaborate displays. I'd never seen so many inflatable Santa Clauses and dancing reindeer in my life.

Spencer's hands were a blur as she searched, her fingers flipping the garments back and forth. "So, how are we feeling about the math exam?"

I shrugged. "Not too bad. I think I did okay."

"I was freaking out, dude. Did you get to the problem where you had to figure out the first and second derivative of that insanely long polynomial?"

"Yes," I groaned. "That one killed me."

"Oh, well at least it's over," she said with a laugh. "You wanna check out Blue Flamingo?"

I nodded and followed her. We had to squeeze between five other girls and a few shopping carts before we could make it through the door. I'd been to Blue Flamingo once before, but that had been during the summer. Since then, they'd expanded their selection and added more formal gowns. I browsed the selection, not really seeing anything that jumped out at me. Spencer, however, was like a kid in a candy store. She pulled out every piece of clothing that caught her eye and tossed them at me.

"This," Spencer prompted. "Try these on."

"All of them?"

"Yes. Then we'll decide which one you should get."

"I thought we were looking for both of us," I said, struggling to look at her over the mountain of clothes in my arms.

She smiled. "Oh, I've had my outfit planned since October. And I can't afford anything in here, anyway. This is for you. Come on." She took half of the garments from my hands and guided me to the changing rooms.

I shut the door and stripped off my clothes. After a moment of hesitation, I picked up the first dress and slipped it on. It was a strapless red piece with ruching. I zipped the side zipper and turned to the mirror. It looked like something a showgirl would wear. I immediately took it off. The next two dresses were no good. One had a cutout back that was too low, and the other was a hideous shade of purple.

"How are we doing?" Spencer called.

"Badly," I replied. "Were these chosen randomly?"

"Hey, don't judge my impeccable taste!"

I shook my head. The fourth dress was a long blue satin gown with spaghetti straps. I slid it on and checked myself in the mirror. It didn't look terrible, but it wasn't really my style. The bodice was a little loose, and the hem was poofy. I'd look like a misshapen blueberry.

"Try the skirt," Spencer suggested. "I have a good feeling about it."

"The skirt?" I asked.

"Yeah, the green one. If you like it, we can look for a top to go with it."

"Okaaay..." I undid the back zipper and stepped out of the blue dress. Sure enough, at the bottom of the pile was a tulle skirt. It was a dark shade of emerald green. I slipped it on. It fit snugly around my waist and came down to my mid-shins. Something about it was definitely more my style.

"Well?" Spencer asked. I threw the t-shirt I'd worn that day back on and opened the changing room door. "That looks perfect! I knew I had good taste."

"Now we need to find a top," I said. "There's gotta be something in here."

We headed back into the fray. It took a little while, but after ten minutes, I managed to find a fitted, cropped shirt with long sleeves. The entire piece was black, but the torso and straight neckline were opaque while the sleeves were glittery mesh.

Spencer nodded. "Yes. I love it."

"Really? You think these will go together?"

"For sure! Buy 'em and let's get some food. I'm starving."

After purchasing the two pieces, we headed down to the food court. I was craving sushi, and she was in the mood for pizza. We found a table off to the side and sat down.

"Now we just need to find you shoes, accessories, and a date," Spencer piped up.

I almost choked on the avocado roll I was eating. "A date?"

"It's a dance, Chloe. You deserve someone to go with."

"But I'm going with you, aren't I?"

"I mean, yeah, of course. But I'm also kind of going with Joel. And I don't want you to feel like a third wheel."

I waved my hand. "I don't mind."

"You're sure? Because I can ditch him for a night if it's going to bother you," she insisted, chewing on a slice of pepperoni.

"Really, Spence, it's fine. I'll be all right if you're there."

I wasn't entirely sure how I felt. While I didn't really want a date for the Winter Formal, Spencer was right about feeling like a third wheel. Still, I figured it wouldn't be the end of the world. As long as I was having a good time, it wouldn't matter.

"Who knows," she continued, "maybe Luke is just dying to go with you."

"Oh, ha-ha," I deadpanned. "I don't think he's a dancing kind of person."

"You might be surprised. I think he likes you more than you know." She winked.

I took a sip of my iced tea. "What makes you say that?"

"Because he's always stealing glances at you. He's got those intense eyes and the brooding expression, but it's different when he looks at you. He seems, I don't know, softer. Or something."

I tried to ignore the little butterfly that had started fluttering in my stomach, but my cheeks betrayed me and flushed hot. "You're imagining things."

"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Just know that I'm watching you." She wagged her finger.

"I can't believe we're even talking about this," I groaned, resting my forehead against the cool surface of the table. I still wasn't sure how to make sense of the way Luke made me feel, or why my feelings towards him seemed to be shifting. It was sudden and confusing. I didn't like it. All I knew was that he'd become a part of my life, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, it was difficult to imagine not having him around anymore.

Spencer laughed. "I thought you'd be used to it."

"I am. I just... Ugh." I sighed.

"What's up?"

I hesitated. "Luke's complicated. We're not anything, but we're also something. Does that make sense?"

"Totally."

"We've known each other for a while, and we spend kind of a lot of time together. Sometimes it feels like we're just friends, but there's other times when it's, well, more than that."

"More how?"

I tilted my head, thinking. "Like, he'll hold my hand or something, and then there's this…tension. And, I don't know, it's weird."

Spencer leaned forward and put her chin on her hand. "Do you like him? Romantically?"

I looked away. "I don't know. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what that feels like. I've had crushes, sure, but nothing's ever really come of them. They were always more hypothetical than anything else. And everything I thought I had with Nathan turned out to be not at all what I wanted. It's hard for me to figure out what's real and what's not."

"Let me rephrase. Is it possible you have feelings for Luke?" she asked gently.

"Possibly," I muttered, fiddling with a chopstick. "I mean, everything's possible if you argue your point well enough."

"Chloe, you're deflecting."

"I know!" I admitted, putting my head in my hands. "It's just that, if I actually do have feelings for him, I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. What does it mean? What does it mean if he doesn't like me back? Or what if he does? Are we just friends who sometimes randomly get butterflies in their stomachs, or are we friends who are, I don't know, attracted to each other or whatever? How am I supposed to know the difference?"

"There's only one way to find out." She shrugged.

I lifted my head. "And how's that?"

"Well, I know you're too much of a chicken to tell him the truth, so I have a better idea. You can take the imagination test."

"The what?"

"The imagination test," she repeated. "You picture yourself doing certain things, and based on your reaction, you can tell how you feel. It's super simple."

"Sounds stupid," I said flatly.

"That's what everyone says until it works." She took a bite of pizza and grinned.

"Fine, whatever. I'll humour you. What do I have to do?"

"First, you have to close your eyes."

I rolled my eyes and then closed them.

"No, don't roll your eyes. You have to actually try," Spencer huffed.

"Okay, okay." I relaxed my shoulders and tried to clear my mind.

"Now, if you were going on a date with someone, where's somewhere you'd like to go?"

"Mmm... The beach?"

"The beach," Spencer repeated. "What are you doing there?"

"Walking along the water, listening to the waves. The sun is setting... The wind is blowing," I murmured, picturing the scene in my mind.

"Perfect. Beautiful. The sky is orange and pink… The sand is slightly warm under your feet... You can smell a tinge of salt in the air, and you can hear the distant calls of birds."

I imagined myself sitting on the sand, the waves crashing softly onto the shore. A breeze tickled the nape of my neck. "Yep."

"Now, are you alone?" Spencer questioned.

I inhaled slowly. "I guess not."

Her tone became amusedly dramatic. "Ah! You get the feeling you're not alone... Someone is nearby. But who?"

"Spencer," I complained. "Is this necessary?"

"Just go with it!"

"All right. It's... It's Luke."

"He's walking towards you, the setting sun casting shadows over his handsome face. He's wearing shorts and a black t-shirt… Y'know, maybe one of those nice compression ones. And there's a small smile on his lips. He stops in front of you. 'Hi,' he says."

I could feel my face warming again. "Hey," I replied, my voice soft.

"You can't help but notice his…dreamy blue eyes," Spencer continued. "They're staring into yours."

My heart was beating a little faster. In my mental movie, I stood up. "Okay..."

"The breeze catches a strand of your hair, and he gently brushes it back behind your ear." Her voice was narrative and slow. I pictured Luke's fingers brushing the hair off my cheek. A shiver ran down my spine. "His hand lingers there. What do you do?"

"Um..." My throat was dry. "I..."

"Chloe?"

My eyebrows drew together. "Hold on, hold on. I'm thinking."

"You're thinking." I could hear her hold in a laugh. "Well, what are you thinking about?"

"What's the right thing to do? What does he want?" I muttered.

"Chloe. What do you want?"

I bit the inside of my lip. "I... I don't know."

Spencer sighed. "Okay, then imagine this. What would happen if, in this moment, Luke suddenly leaned down and kissed you? What would you do?"

My eyes snapped open. "Spencer, this is not helping."

"Hey, if you're not ready to face reality, you can pretend to face it in your imagination." She crossed her arms. "Keep your eyes closed!"

"Sorry." I closed my eyes again.

"Imagine Luke is about to kiss you," she ordered. "You're back on the beach. The sunset is behind you, and the stars are starting to peek out. There's a hint of a chill in the air. His hand is resting on your cheek. He's leaning in closer." The image was vivid in my mind. My stomach twisted with nerves. "He's going to kiss you. You can either step back or move closer."

I could see the expression on Luke's face as he started to close the space between us. It was an expression of curiosity, longing, and a hint of fear. I wasn't sure if it was an accurate reflection of what he would actually look like, or just an interpretation of my own thoughts and feelings. Either way, my heart was pounding in my chest.

"Chloe?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm still here."

"You didn't answer the question," Spencer prompted.

"Right, um..." I hesitated.

"Just go with your gut. What would you do?"

"I would..." The words wouldn't form. Deep down, I knew what I wanted, but not how to articulate it. "I would..."

"Yes…?"

I exhaled slowly. "I...would kiss him."

Spencer clapped. "HA! I knew it!"

"Knew what?!" I demanded, opening my eyes.

"It's not that you don't have any feelings for him, it's that you're afraid of what that might mean. You're scared of taking the next step, or even being honest with yourself," she explained. "It's okay. It's just a defense mechanism. We all have one or two."

My face was on fire. "What does this mean?"

"It means," Spencer said, pointing a finger at me, "that you're definitely not just friends."

I stared down at the half-eaten sushi on my plate. My mind was reeling, trying to sort out my emotions. Everything was jumbled. I didn't know what was happening. Was I falling for him? Did he feel the same? Was I ready for that? Could I handle the consequences? What was I going to do? I wasn't sure what was happening to me, but one thing was certain: Spencer was right. She'd been right all along.

"Don't stress about it," she reassured me, squeezing my hand. "It's just an exercise. Take it all in stride."

I shook my head. "Okay... But can we not talk about it anymore?"

"Deal. So, how about shoes? I'm thinking black heels, maybe straps. And you also need to decide on gold or silver–" Her gaze shifted past me, and her eyes suddenly widened. "Uh oh."

I turned in my chair and followed her line of sight. My heart almost burst out of my chest. There, across the food court, were Luke, Gavin, and Eric, strolling side-by-side while laughing about something.

"Fuck," I hissed, spinning back around. I was in no state to be running into him, wearing sweatpants and an old band t-shirt with my hair tied up messily. "They're walking this way. Spencer, this is the worst timing. What am I supposed to do?"

"Act normal. Just eat your food and look pretty," she instructed. "He won't even notice."

"Are you kidding? He notices everything!" I whispered.

She leaned closer and added, "Relax! If you act weird, he'll definitely know something's up. Just be yourself."

As the guys approached our table, I forced myself to remain calm. Spencer gave a little wave.

"Spencer!" Gavin greeted. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," she answered, smiling, then eyed the multiple shopping bags in their hands. "What are you guys doing here?"

Luke explained, "Eric had some Christmas shopping to do." He was wearing a dark grey sweatshirt and light-wash jeans. His hair was unusually dishevelled, which meant he'd either been running his hands through it or had been sleeping. Knowing him, it was probably the latter. I smiled a little at the thought.

"Kind of last minute, don't you think?" Spencer teased, arching an eyebrow.

Eric shrugged. "My mom likes surprises."

"That's cute," she laughed.

Gavin stuck his hands in his pockets. "So, what are you two up to?"

"We're on a quest for the perfect outfit for Chloe's first Winter Formal," Spencer announced. "So far, it's coming along nicely. Right, Chloe?"

I glanced up from my sushi and nodded. My face was already threatening to burst into flames once more. "Yep."

"You guys are going, huh?" Gavin commented.

Spencer nodded. "Joel is too. What about you three?"

"I don't really have the patience for dances," Eric answered, scratching the back of his head.

"I've been known to go," Gavin commented.

"Same. I'm actually not a terrible dancer." Luke looked at me and grinned. I felt my breath catch in my throat. I wasn't sure if it was from panic or from excitement. I wasn't sure what to do or say, so I just focused on finishing my roll.

"Well, now I really want to see you dance," Spencer said.

He shrugged. "We'll see."

"We should probably get going," Eric interjected, glancing at the large clock that hung on the wall. "The movie starts soon, and we still need to buy snacks from the dollar store to smuggle in."

"Right. Yeah. It was good to see you, Spencer. Chloe." Gavin offered a slight smile.

"You too," Spencer responded.

"I'll meet you there in a bit," Luke decided.

"Later." Eric gave a quick wave and then followed Gavin away. Luke was still standing there, watching me with a curious expression.

"I'll just…let you two talk," Spencer said, rising from her seat.

I shot her a confused glance. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

"But we were just–"

"You'll be fine," she interrupted before walking off.

I turned back to Luke and tried to hide my annoyance. I couldn't believe she'd just left me like that. I was not prepared to talk to him alone. I wasn't even sure how to look him in the eye after the conclusion I'd just reached.

"Can I sit?" he asked, nodding at the empty seat.

I forced a smile. "Sure."

He set his bags down and sat across from me. "How's your day been?"

"Fine. Pretty good, actually." I glanced down at my lunch, unsure what else to do with my eyes. Now looking at him was like looking at the sun. It was too bright. Too hot. Too much. "How about you?"

He shrugged. "Good, I guess. Busy."

"I noticed." I motioned to his bags.

"Yeah. Christmas shopping is no joke." He shook his head, grinning. "Hey, how was your math exam earlier?"

"Better than I expected."

"Nice. That's good."

I could sense the tension in the air. It was so thick I could've cut it with a knife. Why was he just sitting there? Didn't he have a movie to get to? Was he waiting for something? What was he expecting me to say? I could barely keep my thoughts straight.

He drummed his fingers against the table. "So, Winter Formal, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Who are you going with?"

"Just Spencer and Joel," I replied. "What about you?"

"I think it'll be me and Gavin. But he wanted to invite this other girl, too." He tilted his head. "And Farrah is making it sound like a date, so who knows."

A pang of disappointment struck my heart. I thought they weren't talking anymore, after what she did to him. Then again, he was known for letting things slide. Maybe he'd already forgiven her. I hadn't.

"Farrah is going with you?" I tried to hide the disdain in my voice.

"I think it's more like...we're both going to be there. I don't really know what's going on. She just kind of sprung the idea on me the other day."

"I see," I murmured.

He looked away, scratching his chin. "Listen, Chloe, I... I wanted to ask you something."

I blinked. "Okay." My heart skipped a beat. Was Luke going to ask me what I thought he was going to ask me? Or was I jumping the gun?

"So, this dance," he continued.

"Yep."

"I was wondering..." He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up more. "I was wondering if, maybe, you would want to, uh..."

I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears. My whole body felt tingly. I didn't realize it until then, but I wanted him to ask me more than anything. It would be the perfect excuse to spend more time with him, and not just during classes. Maybe this was my chance to finally get to know him better.

I struggled to keep my eyes on him, so they wandered around the room instead. But as soon as I caught sight of the wall clock, I stopped breathing. It was already past three. I was late to my Emiarhian classes. Spencer and I'd spent way more time than I'd thought searching for clothes. I still had to go home and get my necklace first.

"You okay?" Luke asked, concern etched across his face.

I snapped out of it and met his gaze. "I'm so sorry, Luke. I totally forgot. I really have to go; I'm super late!"

"Oh." He sounded a little disheartened.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

He smiled. "Don't worry about it. Is everything okay?"

I gathered my belongings. "Everything's fine. But I have to run. You can text me later, if you want."

"Well, uh, have fun, then," he said, standing.

"Thanks. Enjoy the movie!" I rushed away without another word. I ran into Spencer on the way out and quickly explained that I was late for...a really important thing.

As I hurried out of the mall, I was mentally kicking myself. What were the odds? It was a cruel coincidence. But there was nothing I could do. I just hoped Luke didn't think I was brushing him off. I wasn't sure what his question was, but I was almost positive it was what I'd been hoping for. Either way, there was no turning back now. I was officially late, and I had a feeling Miss Lucera would not be pleased. I ran all the way back to my house and up the stairs, then grabbed my necklace from the nightstand and put it on.

----------------------------------------

The next day, I was back at school. Luke and I had our chemistry final. Spencer had her Spanish final. We were all nervous. Even though we'd studied a lot, there was still a lot to memorize. Luke waited outside the classroom for me to arrive.

"Hey," he said, giving me a slight wave.

"Hi!" My heart skipped a beat. I was still trying to make sense of the realization I'd had the day before. Everything felt different. His eyes, his voice, his smile... It was like he was suddenly a brand-new person. And I was a goner.

"Ready?" he asked, adjusting his backpack strap.

"As I'll ever be."

"Great. Let's do this."

I followed him inside and sat beside him in the back. The rest of the students filtered in over the next few minutes. We exchanged small talk while waiting for the teacher to hand out the tests. When everyone had one, we began.

Chemistry was never easy, but the final was brutal. There were tons of equations and problems and only two hours to complete them. As I started working on it, I was relieved that I at least knew what to do. It was a struggle, but I pushed through and got nearly every part done.

"Time's up!" the teacher announced.

Everyone in the class groaned. I took a deep breath and handed my test to the teacher, who collected it with the others.

I turned to Luke, who looked exhausted. "That was rough."

"Very," he agreed. "I'm glad I had your help, though. Otherwise, I probably would've failed."

I smiled. "Don't sell yourself short. You would've done fine."

"If you say so." He leaned back in his chair and stretched. "Will I see you at my game tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I replied. "It's the last one before winter break, right?"

"Right."

"Then, yes, I will definitely be there."

I tried to make it to as many of Luke's home games as possible, which meant I'd had to cut my training sessions a little short every so often. Thankfully, since my skills had improved drastically from when I'd first begun, Kadia was now more lenient about my schedule. She didn't mind if I left a bit early on those days.

By eight o'clock, I'd made it to the field behind the school to watch the Oceanside Pirates play against the Vista Panthers. The game was going to start any minute. The teams were warming up, and the bleachers were packed. As I passed by the teams gathered around their coaches, I caught sight of Luke. His face was serious. Focused. Ready. It made my heart beat a little faster. I thought about approaching him and saying hi, but I decided against it. He needed to concentrate. So instead, I climbed the bleachers to sit by myself.

Imagine my shock when my eyes landed on Farrah and her friends, sitting a few rows in front of me. My heart sank. I'd never seen her here before. She was an athlete, sure, but I had a feeling this wasn't about sports. Her eyes were trained on Luke, who was still listening to the coach. There's no way he asked her to be here, right?

The ref blew the whistle, signalling the start of the match. The teams moved onto the field, and the crowd roared with excitement. I couldn't stop watching Luke, especially whenever he had the ball. He was mesmerizing, with his skillful maneuvers and quick decisions. The first quarter started and ended with the score tied 0-0.

In the middle of the second quarter, one of the players on the opposing team tripped him. It was hard to tell if it was accidental or not. The ball flew from his possession, and the guy snatched it up, dribbling in the other direction. Luke got up and chased after him, weaving between the other players. Just as the guy was about to score the goal, Luke caught up and stole the ball, then passed it to another member of his team. The player dribbled the ball down the field and kicked it into the net. Pirates scored!

Everyone in the crowd was cheering and whistling. Pride swelled within me, and I found myself clapping along with them. As the teams lined back up to resume play, my eyes fell on Farrah, whose arms were crossed. I narrowed my gaze. Why was she here? Did she really think just showing up would somehow rekindle their friendship? And would Luke even want that? I knew he could forgive anyone, but Farrah had done something terrible. It was assault, wasn't it? How could anyone ever get over that completely?

At the end of the second quarter, the teams went on break. I decided to grab a drink from the concessions stand. I was still waiting in line when Luke ran up, decked out in soccer gear.

"Hey," he greeted, offering a tired smile. "You made it."

"I did. And so did Farrah, apparently."

He frowned. "Farrah's here?"

"Yup. She was here before me," I replied, nodding toward the bleachers.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Luke craned his neck to look. "Huh. I didn't even notice. But that doesn't surprise me."

"Does she come to all your games?"

"Just the last few."

I paid for a bottle of juice and stepped out of line. "I thought you guys weren't really speaking anymore."

"We're not. She's just...being herself, I guess." He shook his head. "Ever since we stopped talking, she's been acting really weird. And persistent. But it's not a big deal."

I furrowed my brow. "That kinda sounds like a big deal, Luke."

"It's not," he insisted, but the look on his face told me otherwise. "Anyway, how are you liking the game?"

"It's been good. You're doing great!" I gave him a thumbs-up.

We were abruptly interrupted by one of his teammates running up and dousing him with water from a giant bottle. Luke yelped, then burst into laughter. I giggled and backed up.

"Dude, what was that for?" Luke asked, wiping his face with his hand.

His teammate gave him a playful shove. "You need to cool off. We're getting steamrolled out here."

"It's tied, man," Luke countered, pushing him back.

"And if you don't get back in there, it won't be," the guy insisted.

He grinned. "Relax, I'll be right there. Go stretch."

"All right. Five minutes. Tell your girlfriend to cheer extra loud for you," he joked before running off again.

My face went tomato red. I didn't know what to say. Were we giving off some sort of vibe that random people were picking up on?!

"He's just kidding," Luke said, shrugging it off. He seemed a little flustered too, but maybe it was just because of the cold water. The beads were still dripping from his hair, and his cheeks were flushed.

I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Yeah, of course."

"Anyway, I better get back to it," he continued. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck!" I said, watching him walk away. He glanced over his shoulder at me and smiled. My heart fluttered.

As soon as he was out of sight, the smile slipped off my face. Something about Farrah's persistence wasn't sitting right with me. It didn't seem healthy. Maybe she was trying to win him back. But why would she want to date someone who clearly didn't want to be with her anymore? If she couldn't take a hint, she needed serious help. I wasn't sure what to do about it, though. It wasn't my business, technically. But I didn't like the thought of her being here, waiting for him like a hawk.

I went back to the stands and sat down, trying to calm my nerves. There was no reason to get so worked up. If Luke said everything was fine, then I believed him. That's just the kind of person he was. He wouldn't lie about it. Right?

The teams reconvened and continued the game. The score was tied 1-1. In the third quarter, the Panthers gained the upper hand. They scored once, putting them in the lead. But the Pirates refused to give up. With ten seconds left in the third quarter, Luke scored a goal, pulling the Pirates into a tie once again. The crowd erupted with cheers.

As the teams reset and the fourth quarter started, it became clear that neither of the teams was planning on giving up anytime soon. They fought hard, passing the ball back and forth. Luke kept close watch of the opposing players, trying to predict their moves. Every time he got the ball, he ran with it, evading the other players until he could pass it off to someone else. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation. The same opponent who'd tripped Luke earlier came up to him again. He played with a temper. When Luke was in possession of the ball, the guy tried to trip him again. But this time, Luke saw him coming. He leapt into the air and kicked the ball towards the goal, dodging his rival.

Unfortunately, both of them miscalculated. As Luke landed, his head swung down, while the other player's knee swung up in a late attempt to knee the ball. It collided with Luke's face. There was a sickening thud, and Luke crumpled. He'd been hit squarely in the nose. I gasped, my hands flying up to my mouth. He was still. My heart pounded. A million thoughts rushed through my head, most of them horrible.

The ref blew her whistle, calling a foul. The guy who'd hit Luke looked dumbfounded. Blood was pouring from the latter's nose.

"Is he okay?" someone shouted.

"What happened?"

"Someone get him some ice!"

The ref knelt beside him, trying to wake him. The other players backed up. After a moment, Luke's eyes fluttered open. He squinted, his face contorted in pain. The ref helped him sit up, and he cradled his nose in his hand, blood soaking his jersey. I watched in horror as his teammates rushed to his side. Within seconds, a medic was on the scene, helping him to his feet and escorting him off the field. The ref signalled a penalty, and the game resumed.

I felt sick. I didn't know what to do. Was it a concussion? Was he hurt badly? I didn't even wait to see what happened next. I was on my feet, running. I didn't care about anything except making sure Luke was okay. I pushed through the crowds, trying not to get distracted by the commotion surrounding me. People were shouting, trying to figure out what happened. Some of the spectators were starting to disperse, not wanting to stick around any longer.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally found the small white tent the school set up outside for medical emergencies during athletic events. I jogged over and peeked inside, my heart racing. Luke was sitting in a plastic folding chair, hunched over, an ice pack pressed against his nose. His eyes were squeezed shut. The medic was wiping some of the blood away while speaking in a low voice. When she spotted me, she held a finger to her lips and shook her head.

"Sorry," I whispered. "Can I come in?"

She hesitated. "One moment, please." She turned back to Luke. "Keep the ice on it, okay? Don't lean back, and keep some pressure on the bridge. Let me know if you start to feel worse." He mumbled an agreement, not moving. The medic approached me, sticking a pen behind her ear. "What's your relationship to him?"

"I'm a friend. Chloe," I replied, my throat tight.

She studied me. "Okay. He's in a lot of pain, so try not to bother him too much, all right?"

"Of course," I promised.

She motioned for me to go ahead.

"Hey," I said softly, kneeling at the foot of Luke's chair. His face was stained with blood. My stomach twisted.

"Hi," he muttered. His eyes were visibly watering.

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

He sighed, then winced. "Like shit."

"Yeah, no kidding," I said, frowning. "Is it broken?"

"The nurse didn't think so."

"Did you pass out?"

"For a second."

"Geez," I said. I had no idea what to say. My mind was still processing the event. There was so much blood everywhere, from his face to his jersey to the small metal pan on his lap used for collecting it.

"Are they still playing?" Luke asked, closing his eyes again.

I nodded. "Yeah, they are. But don't worry about that right now."

"We were winning..." he mumbled.

"I know. And you did great," I assured him. "Don't worry. I'm sure they can pull it together without you."

"They'll have to," he said, taking a deep breath through his mouth.

We sat in silence for a minute. My heart rate had slowed down, but the anxiety was still there. Luke's pain was palpable. He was never the type of person to complain, and I admired him for that, but this was different. I adjusted my posture so I was sitting cross-legged on the floor. I didn't want to go anywhere.

"Did you know that the average adult has eight to twelve pints of blood in their body?" Luke spoke up.

"That's a lot," I commented.

"Right? I wonder how much I'm losing right now."

I smiled. "Not too much, I think. The bleeding seems to have slowed."

"Yeah." He shifted in his seat, still holding the ice pack against his nose. "This hurts a lot more than I thought it would."

"I bet..."

He cracked an eye open and looked down at me. "You know what's funny?"

"What?"

"The guy who hit me. His name is Brad," he replied, shaking his head. "Talk about a cliché."

I laughed. "That's hilarious."

"I know," he said, wincing again.

There was a lull in the conversation. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think of something to talk about. I didn't want him to sit here, miserable and in pain. But I wasn't sure what else I could do. I couldn't magically heal him. I couldn't wave my hand and make it all better. I would've if I could've. All I could do was wait and offer moral support.

"Hey," Luke spoke again. "You should get back to the game. You'll miss the ending."

I shrugged. "That's okay. I've seen plenty of soccer matches before."

"You sure? I don't want to keep you here if you have somewhere to be, either."

"I'm sure," I said, smiling. "Really, it's okay."

Luke gave me a faint smile in return, then closed his eyes again. His face was pale, and there was a small trail of blood running from his nose down to his top lip, then dripping into the pan. He took another deep breath and chuckled. "I'm gonna look so ugly tomorrow."

"Nah. Your face can't possibly get any uglier," I joked.

"Ouch," he replied, laughing a little harder. "I'm already injured."

I bit my tongue. "Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"No worries." He leaned back in the chair. "You know, I'm actually kinda glad you're here."

My hand shot out to clutch his forearm. "Oh, keep forward, don't lean back! And really? You are?"

He hunched over again. "Yeah. Thanks for... You know, being here. For making me laugh."

I grinned and blushed a little. "Of course. Anytime."

"You're a good friend, Chloe. I'm lucky to have you."

I swallowed. Friend. Of course Luke saw me that way. We hadn't even known each other for half a year, after all. I wouldn't expect him to confess any feelings right now, in that state, but hearing him say it still stung a tiny bit. It was the truth.

"Well, I'm lucky to have you, too," I replied, letting go of his arm. A small towel draped over his shoulder caught my attention. I picked it up and held it in front of him. It was damp. "Where'd this come from?"

"The nurse gave it to me."

"Do you mind if I clean you up a bit?" I asked. "You're, uh... Well, it's kind of everywhere."

"If you want to..."

He pulled the ice pack away from his face and let his head drop lower, giving me a full view from where I sat on the ground. His nose and the skin surrounding his eyes were already starting to bruise. It was a pretty gruesome sight. But I was determined.

"Here goes." I folded the towel so a clean spot was exposed and gently started dabbing his cheek.

Luke's face scrunched up. "Ow."

I paused. "Sorry! Am I hurting you?"

"A little. But it's okay."

I continued cleaning him off, doing my best to be careful. He sat perfectly still. Every once in a while, his eyes would meet mine. When his face was mostly clean, I moved onto his neck, wiping the drips of blood away. He had the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw. I was so close to him, I could see every little detail on his face. A tiny scar below his eyebrow, a few freckles on his cheekbones. But there was nothing ugly about him. I finished the job, then wiped my own hands with the towel, setting it aside.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Better, thanks," he replied, raising the ice pack to his nose again. "I don't know how anyone would get the blood out of my jersey, though."

"Probably a good idea to soak it."

"I think I might just toss it."

I smiled. "Or it could be a fun memento. 'My Almost Broken Nose'."

"Sounds like a bad punk album," he quipped with a smirk.

Before we could say anything else, the tent flap flew open. I turned, expecting to see the medic, but instead it was Farrah. Her face was red, and she looked worried.

"Lucas! Are you okay?" she demanded, rushing towards us.

He looked up. "Uh, yeah. It's not as bad as it looks."

She planted her hands on her hips. "What the hell happened?"

"Brad kneed me and caught my nose," he explained, gesturing with his free hand. "Didn't you see it?"

"Yeah, and it was disgusting." She wrinkled her nose. "God, your face is all red and bruised. Is it broken?"

"I don't think so."

She knelt down beside me and studied him for a second. Then she glanced at me, narrowing her eyes. "Why are you here?"

"She was helping me clean up." Luke nodded towards the bloodstained towel.

"Well, you did a terrible job," Farrah snapped, standing up. "There's still some on his lip."

"I know," I said, "but it's too close to his nose to really get."

She huffed and took the towel from the chair. Before Luke could say anything, she'd started blotting the area above his lip with a bit too much force.

He pulled away. "Ow. Farrah, stop."

"I'm trying to help!" she insisted. "It's just a little blood, damn. Don't be such a baby."

I got to my feet and crossed my arms but kept quiet. Luke didn't need help defending himself, but Farrah always knew how to make my own blood boil. She was so obnoxious, always acting like the only thing that mattered was what she wanted.

"Seriously." Luke reached up and took her hand, pushing her away.

Farrah relented, dropping the towel. "Sorry. Does it really hurt that bad? Do you think you'll be okay by Friday night?"

"Huh?"

"The formal," she replied.

He stared at her. "Are you serious right now?"

"What?"

"I just had the shit kicked out of me, and you're worried about the stupid dance?"

She pouted. "Well, we were going to go together. Can't we still?"

"Oh my god…" he muttered, closing his eyes.

I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "Farrah, give him a break. He needs some time to recover."

She glared at me. "I'm sorry, was I talking to you? Are you his keeper or something?"

"No, I'm his friend," I retorted.

"Yeah, well, I've been his friend for way longer. So how about you shut your mouth and let me handle it."

"Excuse me? Are you a doctor now?"

"Okay, that's enough," Luke interjected, his voice raised. We both stopped and turned towards him. He sighed, lowered his ice pack, and rubbed his temple. "Farrah, why are you even here?"

"Because I wanted to make sure you were okay," she answered. "And because I missed you. We haven't talked in forever. It's like you've been ignoring me or something."

He shook his head. "No, it's not like that. ...I've been busy."

"Too busy to answer my texts?"

"I've texted you back."

"Not very much. Just a few words here and there."

Luke didn't reply. I wasn't sure what was going through his head. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to word his thoughts. Maybe he was just thinking. Either way, Farrah seemed annoyed by the lack of response.

"So, anyway," she continued, "are you still coming? To the dance, I mean."

"I'm not sure."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know if I feel like going."

"Why not?" she repeated, her tone slightly more aggressive.

He sighed. "Look, my face hurts, and I'm tired, and I'd really like some peace and quiet."

"Oh." She hesitated. Her cheeks flushed. "Well, um, do you want me to stay? Or maybe I could drive you home."

"It's okay. I always walk home," he replied.

"Then I'll walk with you," she offered.

He frowned. "Actually, Chloe's already gonna walk me home."

I glanced over at him, surprised. That wasn't part of the plan.

Farrah narrowed her eyes at me again. "Why would she do that? You two are hardly friends."

"Because she's nice, and she's a good person," he snapped.

"Fine," she grumbled, backing away. "Whatever. Have fun on your date, then."

"It's not a–"

Before Luke could finish, Farrah spun around and marched out of the tent, letting the flap fall behind her. A few seconds later, the sound of her stomping across the grass faded away.

Luke leaned back, wincing, and covered his face with the ice pack again. I felt awful. I hadn't meant to cause any trouble between him and Farrah, but it was obvious she wasn't happy about me spending time with him. That problem never seemed to get better. In fact, since I'd realized how I felt about Luke, it could only get worse from here.

"I'm sorry about that," he spoke up, startling me out of my thoughts.

"It's fine," I assured him. "I'm sorry, too."

"Why?" he asked before tearing his gaze away from the wall. "You didn't do anything."

"Well, it's partly my fault why she's acting like that. She thinks we're... You know," I mumbled.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? And she's upset about it?"

"Apparently."

"Huh," he murmured. He looked thoughtful for a second, then shook his head. "Well, whatever. It doesn't matter. She's just being immature."

"That's for sure."

"So, um," he began, "you don't actually need to walk me home. I just said that to get her off my back."

"Oh." My chest tightened. "I was going to offer anyway."

"Really? I guess we live near each other..."

"Yeah, that's part of it."

Luke studied me for a second, tilting his head to one side. "And the other part is...?"

"You just got bashed in the face," I reminded him.

"So?"

"So, I want to make sure you get home safe."

He grinned, and my stomach flipped. "Thanks, Chloe."

The sound of raucous cheering erupted outside, catching both our attention. The match must've ended. I took a second to peek outside the tent. The Pirates had won the match, 4-2. I could see everyone on the sidelines jumping around, celebrating. Some of the players pulled their jerseys off, throwing them into the air. It was a typical display of teenage excitement.

"Guess what?" I said, walking back over to Luke. "You won."

He cracked a smile. "Nice. Almost makes all of this worth it." I laughed.

A few minutes later, the medic finally came to check on him. She asked a bunch of questions, then shone a light into his eyes. After declaring him to be concussion-free, she sent him home with instructions to rest and keep icing his nose. Not long after that, all of Luke's teammates came flooding into the tent, cheering and celebrating. They gathered around him, asking if he was all right. Some of the boys gave him high-fives, while others clapped him on the shoulder.

"You look like a freak, Lucas," one guy joked.

"You'd look the same, Mike," Luke replied, laughing.

"Yeah, but we can't have two ugly faces on the team! People might think we're related!" Mike exclaimed, and the group broke into laughter again.

A different guy came up and slapped his hand against Luke's, shaking it afterwards. "Good game, man. Glad you're not dead."

"Me too," Luke said with a smile.

"Here's your stuff," the guy added, dropping a duffle bag beside Luke's chair. "You gonna be all right?"

"I'll be fine."

"Cool. Rest up."

With that, the guys headed out of the tent, leaving just Luke and me again. The celebrations were still going on outside. I could hear them chanting the school's name, along with a bunch of whoops and yells. I smiled, glancing towards the entrance.

"They're really excited, huh?" I remarked.

Luke nodded. "Yeah, they are. They should be. It was a tough match."

"So, how are you feeling?"

"Still in pain," he admitted.

"Do you want to wait a bit before we leave?" I suggested.

"I was thinking that," he replied. "I wouldn't mind changing, too."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Can you grab my stuff for me?" he asked, sitting up straighter.

"For sure." I picked up the duffle bag and set it on a nearby table, unzipping it. Inside, there was a folded hoodie, track pants, a reusable water bottle, a phone, socks, and a pair of sneakers. "Um, what do you want?"

"Just the hoodie and sneakers, please."

"No problem." I fished them out of the bag, then turned back around. Luke had risen to his feet, set the shallow pan of blood onto a different table, and was now lifting his jersey over his head. Careful not to catch his nose against the fabric, he moved slowly, wincing a couple of times.

I froze. My eyes wandered across his bare upper body, causing my face to redden. I'd seen him shirtless before, but this time was a lot...different. He wasn't incredibly muscular, but his build was strong, and his arms and shoulders were well-defined. For just a fraction of a second, I pictured him wrapping those arms around me.

Luke finally tossed the jersey aside, and my hand flew to cover my eyes. I heard him chuckle before taking the hoodie out of my grasp.

"Um, be careful with the collar," I warned him, keeping my eyes squeezed shut.

"I got it."

When he was finished, I peeked through my fingers and saw him tying his laces. I swallowed, my heart still racing. It wasn't fair. Why was he allowed to look like that?

Luke straightened, his foot tapping the floor. "Hm. I think I'll sit for a bit longer."

My face fell. "Feeling lightheaded?"

He nodded casually. "Yep."

"Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"Nah, it'll go away," he replied, plopping back down in the chair. He propped his elbow up on the armrest and laid his head against his hand.

I reached for his water bottle. "Maybe you should try drinking some water. You might be dehydrated from all that exertion."

"I can get it," he offered, holding out his free hand.

"I don't mind." I handed the bottle to him.

"Thanks." He unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to his lips.

As he tilted his head back, I found myself watching him. A tiny drop of water escaped the corner of his mouth, slipping down his chin. My eyes followed it, tracing the line of his neck. I could tell this wouldn't take long to become a problem. Luke set the bottle down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I quickly averted my gaze.

"You know, the water helps," he spoke up.

I feigned surprise. "Who would've thought?"

"Seriously, though, thank you. For everything. You've been super helpful. I really appreciate it."

"I didn't do much," I pointed out.

"Well, either way, thanks."

I met his gaze, smiling softly. "You're welcome."

After about fifteen more minutes, Luke said he was ready to leave. I helped him up, then grabbed his duffle bag, carrying it out of the tent for him. The celebrations were still going on, although it sounded like a lot of people had started to filter out. It was late, after all. Luke didn't say much as we left the school grounds. He kept the ice pack pressed against his face, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him. I wondered if he was embarrassed or just tired. Maybe both. Either way, I decided to stay quiet, figuring he could use the peace.

We walked down many sidewalks together. It was dark, the streetlamps casting some light. Cars whooshed by, their headlights illuminating the path ahead for a few seconds at a time. Every so often, the glow of a porch light appeared, or a group of kids crossed the street in front of us. There was a soft breeze blowing. It wasn't warm or cold, but refreshing. I took a deep breath, enjoying the scent of the night air.

"Chloe?" Luke said, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna stop for a minute."

"Oh. Okay."

He slowed to a stop and lowered to sit on the curb. I stopped as well.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Does your nose still hurt?"

His eyes shut. "Mhm."

I sat down beside him, setting his bag next to me. "What can I do to help?"

"Nothing. Just gimme a sec," he said, rubbing his forehead. "God, this is annoying."

I gazed at him sympathetically. He looked so miserable, hunched over like that, with his face half-covered in the ice pack. I tried not to stare, but it was unexpectedly hard. He looked so cute in his oversized hoodie, his hair tousled and falling into his face. The bruising around his nose and eyes stood out in the lamplight, and he had a bit of dried blood under his nostrils, but somehow, he was still handsome.

I watched a car drive past. The radio was turned up loud, playing a rap song. The bass made the ground beneath us tremble, just for a second. When it faded away, the silence felt heavier.

"Sorry I'm taking forever," Luke spoke up.

"Nope. No apologies allowed," I told him.

"Well, it's not fair to you," he countered.

I looked at him incredulously. "You want to talk about what's not fair? How about the fact that someone whacked you in the face with their patella?"

He let out a laugh. "Good point."

I frowned slightly. "Tell me how you're feeling now. Honestly."

"Um..." He thought for a moment. "I don't know. My face just hurts."

"Do you feel sick?"

"I did earlier. Not anymore."

"Dizzy?"

"Only if I stand up too fast."

"Any ringing in your ears?"

He shook his head.

"Okay," I murmured, studying his face.

Luke lifted his eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to solve a puzzle," he explained.

"I'm trying to figure out whether I should drag you to the ER," I told him.

His eyes widened. "You think I need to go to the hospital?"

"Not necessarily. You said you're not nauseous anymore, so that's good. Your pupils aren't dilated, either. You're talking and walking normally, and you can breathe, which is always a plus," I explained, counting off the items on my fingers.

"And the headache is fading," he added.

"That's good. It sounds like you're doing fine, but it can't hurt to be extra careful," I concluded. "Keep an eye on your symptoms, okay?"

"Will do, doc," he replied.

I sighed. "Luke, seriously. This is serious."

"I know," he said, his tone more solemn. "I'll let you know if anything changes."

I draped my arms over my knees, staring out at the road. "You better. I can always drive you to the hospital."

He glanced at me, then returned his attention to the street. I knew he was probably tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was talk, but I had a burning question that I needed him to answer. I still didn't know what he'd tried to ask me yesterday at the mall. Maybe now wasn't a good time to ask, though. I didn't want to risk making him stressed. But the curiosity was eating away at me, and the silence was getting a little awkward.

"What were you going to ask me yesterday?" I blurted.

He raised his eyebrows. "Huh?"

"Yesterday, in the mall. You were trying to ask me something, and I had to run before you could finish," I reminded him.

Luke's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall the moment. His eyes widened a bit, and he nodded slowly. "Oh, right. I remember."

"So...?"

"You really wanna know?"

"That's why I asked."

He let out a quiet chuckle. "It doesn't really matter now. Don't worry about it."

"Luke, I can't stop worrying about it," I said. "I'm a chronic overthinker."

"Fine." He shifted his weight a bit, then lifted the ice pack away from his face. "I know you're going to the formal with Spencer and Joel, but... I was going to ask if you wanted to go with...me. And the four of us could all go."

I stared at him. Those words were like music to my ears. "Really?"

"Yeah. ...As friends," he clarified. "But since Brad went and bashed my nose in, that's no longer on the table."

My heart sank a bit. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"...Wait. You don't think we could still go?"

Luke blinked. "You want to?"

"Why not?" I replied. "If you felt well enough that day. You can decide to tag along, or not. No pressure."

"Hm," he hummed thoughtfully. "How about I let you know by Friday morning?"

I smiled. "Sounds good."

"All right. I can probably stand up now." He started to rise, and I quickly got to my feet, too.

"Take it slow," I warned him. He did as he was told, moving deliberately and steadily.

He nodded. "Feels fine."

"Okay, then let's keep going," I told him, slinging his duffle bag over my shoulder.

He held out his hands. "You can give me that."

"Nope."

"It's heavy, Chloe."

"Don't care."

He laughed and shook his head. "Fine."

The rest of the walk went smoothly. We reached Luke's house just after ten o'clock. I'd never actually seen it before. It was a fairly new-looking two-storey home, with a large yard and a few trees out front. It wasn't a mansion, but it wasn't exactly modest, either. His uncle was a successful film director, after all.

"Here we are," Luke said, stopping at the foot of the driveway. "Thanks again for coming with me."

"Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?" I offered.

He smiled crookedly. "No, I think I'll be okay. I've got painkillers. I'll just ice my face some more and go to bed."

"Just make sure to get a lot of rest tomorrow," I instructed him. "If you have any problems, you have my number."

There was a certain glimmer in his eyes as he spoke. "Right."

"Okay. Sleep well," I said, handing over the duffle bag. "G'night."

"You too."

Luke and I turned away from each other. He went up the driveway, and I walked away, heading down the street towards home. There were many butterflies in my stomach. The more I thought about Luke, the stronger they became. There was no more denying how I felt. He had a special place in my heart, and I didn't think that would change any time soon.

But what did he think of me? Was I just a friend? A classmate? I wanted to know, but at the same time, I was afraid. It wasn't just the possibility of rejection; it was also the thought of this being irresponsible. My main focus had to be Emiarhia, always. Was it cruel of me to enter a relationship, especially on Earth, knowing full well that it would be more and more likely to crumble to dust as the months passed?

I let out a sigh, hugging myself as I continued down the sidewalk. It didn't matter what I did. The future would come, no matter what.

I could only hope for the best.

----------------------------------------

Thursday afternoon. My biology exam had just ended. It hadn't been as bad as I expected, and I was pretty confident with the answers I'd given. It was a lot of memorization, so the key was to study. Which was exactly what I'd done. At last, I was free of schoolwork until next semester. Spencer had no finals today, so she'd stayed home. After exiting the classroom, I made my way towards Luke's locker, hoping to catch him. I hadn't heard from him at all since last night, which could mean one of two things. He was either feeling great, or he was in a world of pain.

As I rounded the corner, I spotted Luke, his back to me. His head was bent down, but as I got closer, he looked up, his gaze finding me immediately. I watched his serious expression turn content.

"Hey, you," I greeted him. "How'd the history test treat you?"

"Hi," he said. "It was a lot of writing, but not too bad. Remembering dates is always the hardest part."

"Yeah," I agreed, nodding.

"What about you? How was bio?" he asked.

"Not as bad as I thought it'd be," I replied. "I didn't completely blank out, so there's that."

"That's a good start," Luke said with a smile.

I studied his face. "Feeling any better?"

"I think so. The swelling's gone down a lot," he answered, turning his head side-to-side so I could get a good look. The bridge of his nose had a small bump to it, with a scab running diagonally across it. The bruises on and around his nose, and under his eyes, had deepened into a dark, reddish-purple colour. There was no blood in sight, at least.

"It looks better," I agreed. "How's the pain?"

"It comes and goes. Right now, it's not bad." Luke grabbed his backpack from his locker, and a folded piece of paper fell to the floor. It landed near my feet. He didn't seem to notice.

"Oh." I kneeled to pick it up.

Upon unfolding it, I found a note with about a dozen signatures scrawled all around the border. Farrah's was one of them. In the middle was a message: Sorry about the nose. Happy birthday! There were hearts and smiley faces everywhere.

"Aw, when was your birthday?"

Luke paused to stare at me. "When was...? Oh, it's today."

My jaw dropped open. "What?! Why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"You don't get to say that. We have to celebrate!" I exclaimed, waving the card in the air. "You're eighteen now! That's an important age!"

"Chloe," he said firmly.

"What?"

He leaned in a little, regarding me head-on. "I appreciate the sentiment, but really, it's not a big deal."

"Okay. Okay, I won't make a big deal out of it," I told him, lowering the note. "But you could've said something."

Luke shut his locker, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. "Well, you know now."

"Does your uncle know?"

"No clue."

"Your parents?"

He sighed. "It's Thursday. They're busy."

I frowned and gazed at him sadly. I couldn't believe this. His eighteenth birthday, and nobody was doing anything for him. But maybe he wanted to be alone. Maybe that was his idea of a fun time.

"So, are you just gonna go home?" I asked.

"Uh...yeah, pretty much. Maybe I'll watch a movie or something."

"Oh. Okay."

We fell into silence, just staring at each other. My mind was racing with thoughts, and none of them were making much sense. I couldn't stop thinking about him, about his well-being. His mental state. Was he lonely? What was he hiding behind his high grades and athleticism? What was his life really like at home?

"Chloe?"

I blinked. "Sorry. I spaced out."

"It's fine," he replied, mouth curling into a lopsided smile.

"Well, um, happy birthday." I held out the note.

Luke took it, looking a bit embarrassed. "Thank you."

"And enjoy the rest of your day," I added. "I hope your nose stops hurting soon."

"Me too." He lifted a hand to lightly touch the bruising. "I'll see you later."

"All right. Bye, then," I murmured, turning and heading for the exit. I didn't know what else to say, and yet, I didn't want to leave him. I could feel him watching me as I left. I was so confused. My mind was a mess. I wanted to know more about him, but I was also scared of how I felt. I had no idea what was happening to me.

I had no idea.

----------------------------------------

On Friday morning, I slept in until ten. When I eventually awoke, the first thing I did was grab my phone. There was a text waiting for me from Luke, sent less than an hour ago.

Not sure about the formal, he'd written. I'm having a dilemma

A dilemma? About the dance? My fingers hovered over the keys. I wasn't sure what to type. Was this an invitation to talk? Did he want me to call him?

Sounds complicated lol. What kind of dilemma? I finally asked.

His reply came within ten minutes. I'm not sure if it's a good idea

I stared at the words, frowning. What did that mean? Was he referring to the dance itself, or something else? I'm not following 🤔, I texted back.

Luke took a while to respond this time. I was eating breakfast when my phone vibrated against the table.

Well I feel pretty good. Even better if I take an Advil, he replied. But there's still the issue of looking like a raccoon 😬 Before I could answer, he sent another text: It's a little embarrassing. It looks worse than it feels

I chewed my cereal thoughtfully. It made sense that he'd be a little self-conscious. People would be asking about it, no doubt. If it was me, I'd want to hide it.

My phone buzzed again, this time with a photo. My heart skipped a beat. It was a mirror selfie of Luke, from the neck up. His nose and under eyes were still a dark purple, but the bruises had developed that signature yellow-brown hue around the edges. Despite the injuries, he was still grinning. I had to admit, there was something about the marks paired with his dark hair and sharp eyebrows that was aesthetically pleasing. Still not right, but...cohesive. He was still cute. Very, very cute. I was a bit flustered.

I quickly replied: Yeah that's bruised alright

The three dots popped up. Luke was typing. I waited, tapping my nails against the phone case.

Any chance it'll heal by tonight?

I pursed my lips, staring at the message. So he wanted to go, after all. I could hear Spencer squealing somewhere in the distance. Probably not lol, I answered. It might fade a bit tho. If you want, Spencer can put some makeup on you to cover them

That's an option, he replied. Is she okay with doing that?

Of course! And we're going to her house before the dance anyway

He responded right away. I would appreciate that a lot!

I smiled. It's no problem! I'll send you her address

Thanks :)

"Who are you texting?"

I looked up from my phone. Mom stood in the doorway, holding a mug. She sipped from it as her gaze fixed on me.

"A friend," I replied simply, slipping the phone into my pocket.

"Is it a guy?"

"Mom." I rolled my eyes.

She didn't budge. "You can tell me, hun."

"It's Luke. He's going to the formal with us." I grabbed my empty bowl and spoon, and got to my feet. "Spencer's going to try to cover his bruises since they're still pretty prominent."

"Ah. That poor boy," she murmured. "You should invite him over for dinner sometime."

I froze. "What?"

"I think that would be a nice gesture! He can't be eating healthy, staying with his busy uncle. And with his parents gone all the time..."

"That's none of my business. Or yours," I muttered.

"He's your friend, isn't he?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean we're best friends," I explained, putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

"Still, you've been spending a lot of time together," she remarked.

I shrugged and leaned against the counter. "Yeah, studying."

"Okay..." Mom sounded skeptical. "Well, do you need anything else for the formal?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Great. Have fun, and be responsible, all right? No drinking or smoking or anything."

"Obviously..."

"And be careful."

"I will," I assured her.

She planted a kiss on my forehead, then headed off to the living room. I took a deep breath and tried to clear my mind. The formal wasn't for hours, and yet, I was already starting to get nervous. It was a weird kind of anxiety; the kind that excited me, yet also scared me. I couldn't explain it. I didn't understand myself.

All I knew was that I wanted to have a good time tonight.