Delilah's POV

“Ashton, you can't just take someone's coffee at Starbucks. That's stealing,” I tell Ashton as we sit on the curb, watching cars drive by. We do this a lot since there's not much to do around here. He counts the red cars, and I count the blue cars. Whoever counts the most, wins. But there's never a prize, so it's a pointless game. But we do it anyways.

“It's not stealing. It's selectively choosing who I'm going to be for the day. Today I am Tanya,” he says, reading the scribbled name on the cup. “I believe I am a twenty two year old with pink hair and big boobs. Maybe even a nose ring. Oh, maybe a belly button piercing! I come from Miami, and I had a rough life as a kid. But now I'm a stripper for this club downtown. Oh, and I have a boyfriend of two days, I'll probably dump him tomorrow.”

I roll my eyes. Only Ashton would think of a life story for the name on his coffee cup.

“So, tell me Tanya, what would you like to do today?”

“Well,” Ashton says in a girly voice, “I vote for mani pedis, and then we can go to the petting zoo to help endangered puppies!”

I muster a laugh at Ashton's goofiness. “You're such a weirdo! Why do I associate myself with you?”

“Because you love me,” he says cheesily, resting his head on my shoulder. I nudge him off and take a sip of his coffee. Or, Tanya's coffee.

“Tanya has good taste in coffee.”

Ashton smiles. “See, it's not such a bad idea after all.”

I punch his shoulder lightly, and he rubs it as if it hurt.

I've known Ashton almost my whole life. He lives two houses down from me, so I see him all the time. He's like a brother to me. He's been there for me through everything. Every girl needs a guy best friend, even if he is a little strange.

Ashton tosses the coffee in the trash and helps me up from the curb.

“Hey, isn't that Mr. Hemmings car?” I ask, pointing to the car across the street.

“How many times do I have to tell you he doesn't like being called that. His name is Andrew!” Ashton says laughing.

I shrug. “Now I just do it to annoy you,” I say smiling.

“I bet they're in Starbucks,” Ashton says.

“They? Who's they?” I ask. Does Mr. Hemmings have a new friend? That may happen to be a girl? Maybe it's Tanya.

As if to answer my question, Mr. Hemmings comes walking out of Starbucks with a familiar boy in front of him.

Well, I sure didn't expect that.

The boy has his head down as he drinks his coffee, but I see he has a lip ring. Where have I seen that lip ring before? He has a snapback on backwards and a plain black t-shirt. Some stray pieces of blonde hair are sticking out from his hat. He has to be at least six feet tall, maybe even more. And his jeans are skinnier than mine.

I've definitely seen this boy before. Boys like this are rare here. Everyone is always the same. He is definitely different.

“Hey guys!” Ashton says waving.

“Hi! Delilah, have you met Luke?” Mr. Hemmings asks as he approaches us.

The boy, Luke, looks up, and he has a shocked expression on his face. His blue eyes look nervous for some reason.

I've seen that face somewhere, but where?

“Nice to meet you, I'm Delilah.”

Luke bites on his bottom lip, and his eyes wander around.

I remember those wandering eyes.

“Wait,” I say. “You were with Candace when I walked in, right? I had the box of folders. You crashed into me,” I say. Of course I remember him, he knocked all the folders down. He didn't even help me pick them up.

Suddenly, Luke tosses his coffee to the ground. The ice and coffee splash everywhere, including onto my feet. I guess I shouldn't have worn white vans today.

We all stare at the ground with shocked expressions, confused as to what just happened. The coffee drips off the curb, and there's a giant pile of ice on the sidewalk.

Luke casually walks across the street into the car, completely ignoring the mess he caused. Just like he did when he bumped into me.

“I'm so sorry,” Mr. Hemmings says. “Luke's a little... uh... moody to say the least. I better get going.” He picks up the empty cup and throws it away before getting into his car.

“Well, that was strange,” I say once they're gone.

Ashton shrugs. “Luke is Andrew's son. He doesn't talk, like, at all. I met him the other day. He's wicked rude. He definitely doesn't like me.”

“Since when does he have a son? That doesn't talk?”

Mr. Hemmings never told us about having a son. Especially one that doesn't talk. I wonder if he's never spoken. Luke seems about my age, I wonder what would make someone my age so... different.

“Maybe he's a mute or something, I don't know. Andrew told me the other day that Luke has had a rough few months. Didn't really tell me much. I don't think he really even knows. Luke seems to be one big mystery.”

“A mystery, huh?”

*

Later that day, I go for a run around the neighborhood. I do this quite frequently. It gives me some time to myself, and I like the way the wind feels against my skin and through my hair.

There's a small, rundown park in the corner of our neighborhood that no one really uses. There's some swings and a slide covered in graffiti. Nothing too interesting. But tonight when I run past, there's something interesting.

Luke.

He's laying on top of the monkey bars, one of his arms dangling over the edge. He's too long to fit over the whole thing, so his feet are drooped over the end. He seems to be asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling while he breathes.

I quietly walk through the grass until I'm below the monkey bars.

“Hello?” I whisper. “Hey, Luke?”

His hat has fallen off his head and into the sand below him. His hair is half flat, half sticking up. He must have kicked off his shoes, because a pair of black vans are near the swings.

I stand on my toes and gently tap Luke's shoulder. He bolts up and falls into the sand with a loud thump.

I try to hide my laugh, but it's hard. Some giggles escape me. “Sorry,” I say smiling. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

He stands up and brushes his hands on his jeans. He's covered in sand from head to toe.

“Here, let me help. I'm really sorry,” I tell him, reaching up to brush sand off his shoulder. He backs away and pulls out his phone. He types something, and then I hear a voice come out of his phone.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I put my hands up in defense. “I was going for a run, and you were on the monkey bars. Asleep.”

He shrugs and makes a face, as if he's saying “And?”

“And I just thought I'd come say hi,” I tell him.

Something about Luke scares me. Maybe it's his height. Maybe it's the way his eyes seem to pierce through me, when earlier, he wouldn't even look at me.

He types more. “Well, don't. I don't need anyone coming to say hi. Especially not you.”

Why is he so rude? Ashton's right. As much as I want to run away, I stay. There's a fear in the back of my mind that Luke may hurt me. I know nothing about him or his mental state. He could be psychotic for all I know. I highly doubt it, but there's always a part of me that thinks the worst.

I cross my arms over my chest and roll my eyes. “It's called hospitality. Something you don't seem to know about.”

“Hospitality? Is that what you call barging into someone's personal time without invitation? Waking them up?”

“I didn't mean to scare you. Honestly.”

“You didn't scare me.”

“Then why'd you fall?”

“There's this thing called balance. I lost it.”

It's hard to take Luke seriously since he doesn't talk. The robotic voice on his phone has no emotion, so it doesn't say things the way a human would. It says everything in a monotonous voice. I know he's trying to seem rude and sarcastic, but it's not coming out that way.

But somehow, he's still intimidating. Maybe it's the way he stands, or the way he runs his tongue across his lip. Something about him is harsh and cold.

“Whatever, Luke.” I turn around and leave the park. I'm clearly not wanted here.

Part of me expects Luke to have more to say, or write? How would you describe it? God, he's confusing. Ashton's right, he is a mystery.

Another part of me thinks he will come running over and apologize or ask to walk me home. He seems unpredictable, and I'm unsure of what he'll do next.

But I don't hear foot steps or fingers typing against his phone. I hear nothing.

And as much as I don't want to admit it, I want to solve this mystery of Luke Hemmings.

i'm gonna be switching between POV's but I want Luke to remain a mystery for as long as possible. if you're really confused or have questions, comment or message or tweet me @fiannelash

i hope y'all like this. get ready for some interesting stuff to come up in the chapters to come. there's nothing big that has happened, but it will pick up. be prepared

ily

-ashley