Luke leads the way towards the basement and I follow. He slides open the door and we enter, I slide it shut behind me. I replace my muck boots with a pair of black flip flops, and come back into the living room. Without a word he starts walking towards the stairs to the main level, I grab my phone and purse and follow. Something is wrong, and I have no clue as to what it could be. Did I do something? Say something? Does he know about last night? But why would he be upset about that? If anything, he would be concerned. We reach the top of the stairs and are greeted with the smell of cleaning solution. Right, it's a Sunday. Mom cleans on Sundays.
"Morning, Ms. Pierce." Luke says, a smile plastered onto his face.
My mom smiles back at him, "Morning, Luke! How'd you guys sleep?"
"Fine, thanks." I mumble, not in the best of moods.
Her kind eyes lock on mine for a moment, and then go back to Luke. My mom and I look exactly alike: blue eyes, kind of like the sea on a sunny day, and light brown hair.
"Off to breakfast, then?" she asks.
"Yep, O'Brien's." Luke responds.
"Yum! Have fun." Mom smiles and turns back to scrubbing the kitchen countertop, and we turn to leave. His happy facade is dropped, he simply walks by and goes to the front door, which he opens for me.
"Thanks." I say.
"Sure." he responds, there's something in his voice I can't place. He sounds annoyed.
I go out the door and through the grass, I hear the front door close behind me. Fishing in my purse for my keys, I find them and unlock my white Ford F150. I only bought the big truck to pull Knight's trailer, but I soon fell in love with it. I climb in on the driver's side, and Luke gets in on the passenger's side. I start the car and I pull out of the driveway, I'm planning on confronting him. We pull out of my neighborhood in an incredibly awkward silence. Finally, I snap.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask angrily.
I keep my eyes on the road, but I feel his burn into me.
"What do you mean?" he replies, his voice a condescending, infuriating calm.
"Cut the crap. I keep watching you stare out of windows, you won't let me see who you're texting, and you're acting like you hate me. Is something wrong?"
"No, there's nothing wrong."
His tone says otherwise. It doesn't feel like he's mad at me, almost like he's mad at someone else. My instincts are almost always spot-on with him.
"But you would tell me, right? You're my best friend, Luke. We're supposed to tell each other everything."
"I would tell you if there was something to tell. But, there isn't. So let's drop it."
Those last few words are infused with malice. He's definitely upset about something, but he's not talking.
The road soon leads us down a hill and into the trees, we drive in silence. It seems we are all alone as we drive down the deserted road, surrounded by beautiful pine trees that stretch to the clear blue sky. I wind through the twists and turns, and we emerge on the other side. Driving past horse ranches and other large properties, I glance at Luke. He's staring out the window, not that I'm surprised, looking up at the fluffy, white clouds. We've had little fights before, but at least five minutes after one we would be honest about what felt wrong and we would move on with our lives. So right now, I'm just waiting for Luke's explanation. Which is clearly not coming any time soon. I'm not going to push him, he'll tell me what's up when he wants to. We pull into the parking lot of O'Brien's, empty as always. O'Brien's is the literal definition of "hole in the wall", it shares a parking lot with a gas station, and the building is run down enough to be called abandoned. On the inside, however, the diner screams cozy. It only has about twenty tables, most for groups of four. An older couple sits in the back by a window, and a husband, wife, and two young children occupy a table in the middle. The woman at the counter turns when she hears the sound of the old bell. Her face lights up in a smile.
"Relia! Sit wherever you want, I'll be there in a few."
"Okay!" I grin and lead Luke to my favorite table, tucked back in the corner of the restaurant.
As soon as we sit down, Ms. Jackson comes to us with two menus. She sets them in front of us.
"Can I start you off with something to drink?"
I smile up at her, "Could I do a chai tea, please?"
She nods and turns to look at her son.
"I'll do a shot of espresso."
She gives him an odd look, but smiles, "I'll have that right out and I'll be back for your order."
"Thanks, Ms. Jackson."
It looks like Luke's mom and I are on the same page. Since when does Luke drink straight shots of espresso? He says nothing. I decide to let him break the silence, and choose to stare at the menu. At that moment, I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I look up to see that an incredibly nice car has pulled into the parking lot. It's not the type you would see at a diner in the middle of no where. It's more like a car you would find in the garage of a house in Beverley Hills. A man steps out of the car, his chestnut brown hair shines in the sun. He's dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt, nothing like what he was wearing last night, but he still looks sharp. He steps inside and the bell rings, drawing Luke's attention from his lap. The man pulls off his aviators to reveal the stunningly green eyes that found mine on the side of my house last night, as he lay dying.