Lovesick

Chapter II

There was never a 'good time' to ask Lucas anything bothersome, but I still wanted to wait for an appropriate moment to avoid getting brushed off immediately. Two days after that conversation with Emma, he invited me to come over to his place in the evening. We spent most of our time together like that. At school, I sometimes felt like just one of his many acquaintances, but when the day was over, he would always make time for me. We usually hung out at his place rather than mine, because I only had a small apartment while he had a whole mansion like the ones you see in reality shows. White and modern, all cubic shapes and glass walls, with a patio right by the indoor swimming pool.

I used to feel quite out of place there—like most people would, I imagine—but, after so many years of staying over at Lucas's mansion on a regular basis, it started to feel more like home than my actual apartment. His mother Hannah was the friendliest, most welcoming person I had ever met. His father was a bit more stern, but they both treated me with nothing but kindness. As my visits became more and more frequent, they made sure I had everything I could possibly need. I even had my own mug for when I stayed for breakfast, my own towel for when I wanted to take a shower. They were warm, wonderful people that treated me like family.

I used to think I was jealous of him, back when I was too young to understand my own feelings. As I grew up, I came to realise that I didn't want to have his life—I just wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to belong with him. That's why I wanted his parents to like me so badly, why I always offered to help with chores and gave them gifts for Mother's Day and Father's Day when I didn't give any to my own mother and father. Looking back, it was obvious I was trying to act like the ideal son-in-law, yet not a single person in that family seemed to think anything of it. By the time I was old enough to realise how weird I was being, it would have been even weirder to suddenly stop doing all those things that everyone had come to expect from me.

On that peaceful evening, we were together in his room, half-watching a movie on the fancy flat-screen TV he had in front of his bed. Lucas was lying down and playing with his phone and I was sitting cross-legged next to him, going through my notes from that day's history class. Silence always felt comfortable between us. There was no need for talk, and we sometimes spent hours together while only exchanging a few words occasionally. Lucas was usually the one to strike up a conversation when he got bored of the quiet.

"How was class?" he asked, not looking away from his phone.

"Why don't you come if you're so interested?" I playfully chastised him.

"Fine, don't tell me. Just don't forget to give me your notes when you're done."

I chuckled to myself and quickly skipped through the last pages before handing them to him. "Here," I said to get his attention.

He put his phone away, wordlessly took the notes from my hand and sat up. I watched him as he started flipping through the pages, and as his expression kept shifting from a frown to an amused smile, I started to wonder what was going through his mind.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing. Your handwriting is horrendous, that's all. Amazes me every time."

"Oh, is that so? Give that back, then."

I jokingly tried to snatch my notes out of his hand, and he laughed it off as he pulled his arm back to get them out of my reach. "You know I'm just playing with you, Cal. Thanks."

My voice almost caught in my throat, but I managed to squeak out an answer. "Sure thing."

Lucas never did learn how to say 'please', but he could show gratitude on occasion, though he was normally such an entitled jerk that it always made my foolish heart skip a beat. My standards were pathetically low. I could get overly emotional over nothing, just because that 'nothing' was the best I could have with him.