Paper Hearts

05

"I'm not going to lie, Vicki," Rachael said, as we parked in the shadow of Tanner's enormous house, "This is pretty ballsy."

"It's just a party," I said breezily, but she shot me a knowing look, her copper eyes vibrant under a thick layer of eyeliner that complimented her fiery-red hair perfectly.

"Just a party," she repeated, tapping her chin in mock thought, "That your ex-boyfriend is hosting."

"That I got invited to," I countered, and she rolled her eyes.

"I still can't believe you let Luke Callaway, of all people, take you home."

"He's not that bad," I murmured, busying myself with the car mirror, double-checking my makeup. Once I was finished, I stared out the window, waiting for Rachael to finish up.

As I watched throngs of girls unload from all different cars, practically running to the front door, I began to wonder whether I should have tried harder. My makeup was simple and natural―in other words, practically nonexistent. I was wearing a sleeveless top with leggings, and as I saw the long, bare legs of all the others, I cursed myself for not putting on shorts.

You came, didn't you? I chastised myself. That's enough.

And it was.

Rachael didn't bring up Luke again, and we got out of the car, making our way up the drive and to the front door. It was all too familiar―the warm lighting, the doormat that concealed the spare key. Tanner and I had spent several lazy afternoons here; it had practically become my second home.

Not anymore, I reminded myself. You can't think of it that way anymore.

So I took in a deep breath, shaking out my hands. I felt Rachael's hand on my back.

"We can turn around, if you want. Go home and rent a movie, or something."

I opened my mouth, prepared to agree, when Luke Callaway's voice rang in my head.

You've got to live a little bit.

"No." I said firmly, squaring my shoulders. "Let's go in."

Rachael laughed―it came out forced, nervous.

"Okay, then." She echoed. "Let's go in."

And we did.

________

The first thing I noticed was the music.

Loud, pulsing music blared from the speaker systems, making it almost impossible to think straight. Shaking my head, I turned in my place. What had once been a clean, neat foyer was now full of discarded shoes, sunglasses and purses. Chatter rose from the crowds that I could see gathered in the kitchen and living room, a general buzz that was―somehow―louder than the obnoxious music.

"Come on," Rachael said, elbowing me. "We have to go interact with people now."

I swallowed hard, with a breathy laugh, as I began to move forward.

"Yeah. Okay."

This was a bad idea this was a bad idea this was a bad―

"Hemmings!" A familiar voice sounded, and I turned around instantly, coming face-to-face with Luke. He'd changed shirts, I noticed. But that cheeky smile was the same as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"So, you came," he said, and I would have made a sarcastic remark in reply, if it hadn't been for the fact that I was completely out of my element.

"Yeah." I said instead. "I did."

"I'll catch up with you later." Rachael said then, smiling at me and disappearing before I could beg her to stay.

"Bye," Luke said, obviously not catching that I was now completely out of my element and abandoned by the one person I was comfortable with. He turned back to me, pointing to the kitchen. "Want a drink?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." I said, my voice tight. "Actually, I think I'm―"

"You don't want to be here." He said, and I stiffened, caught by surprise.

"What?" I sputtered, blowing him off nonchalantly. "No, it just that―"

"You don't want to be here, and I made it sound like you had to come," Luke said then, his face falling. "Oh, God, I'm an idiot."

"Luke, no, really." I said then, my voice firm. "I'm glad that I came."

There was an awkward pause then, in which he just looked at me, his face so apologetic that I could hardly stand it.

"It's fine," I said again, because I was running out of things to say. "Um, come to think of it, I could use a drink."

That seemed to perk him up just a little, enough so that he smiled at me and led me into the kitchen. Once there, I felt my breath catch in my throat. The marble counters, the crown moldings. The familiarity of it all made my heart sink, and I fought the urge to burst into tears on the spot, pasting a fake smile onto my face and allowing Luke to pour me a soda.

"I'm not a huge fan of beer," I'd explained, once I had already rejected the beverage. "It makes me feel sluggish, you know?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "It makes everyone feel sluggish―the night after, anyways. But, since everyone here is underage, I tend to stay away from it, too."

"That's true," I said, through a laugh. "If someone gets arrested, we'll be totally in the clear."

This was coming almost too easily. The conversation, the laughing, the way Luke allowed me to speak as much or as little as I wanted. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

I was having fun. I really was.

We were just hanging out, in the crowded kitchen, talking like no one could hear us. I sipped Sprite while Luke told stories and pointed out the people I didn't recognize.

It was simple, easy. Nothing was expected of me; nothing was expected of him. The simplicity of the moment, of the whole ordeal itself, shoved the thought of my mother and Dad and the wedding out of my mind. For now, it was just me and Luke, and I was okay with that.

We were being antisocial together, just as he'd promised.

And, in spite of myself, I enjoyed it.

________

As the minutes turned into hours, the music had been turned up even louder. People were dancing everywhere, beer sloshing from their cups, singing along and grinding like there was no tomorrow. Luke and I stayed in the safety of the kitchen, still talking, and I began to realize how late it was getting.

"I'd better head home." I told him, stifling a yawn. "It was really nice talking to you. I'm glad we got the chance to catch up."

"Yeah, me, too." He said, with a smile that convinced me that he wasn't angry that I had wasted his Friday night with conversation. "You're good company, Vicki."

"Victoria," I said, without thinking. He blinked, seemingly taken aback.

Heat rushing to my face, I cleared my throat.

"My―my real name―" I stammered, pushing a hand through my hair, "It's Victoria."

Luke's brows furrowed then, just a little, as he tilted his head to the side.

"Really?" He asked, and I nodded, taking a giant gulp of soda to avoid looking too awkward. It, however, went down too quickly, and the carbonation caused an odd, fizzling sensation in my throat. Coughing and retching, I had to grip the counter to regain control of myself.

Smooth, I thought. So freaking smooth.

Luke didn't seem to mind, though. He just kept staring at me, with that interested expression.

"Okay, Victoria," he said finally, smiling as the name passed his lips. "I'll see you later, then."

My heart beat a thousand times faster than normal as he said it―I hadn't been called that in years, and to know that he was the first person to revive it made me feel almost giddy.

"Okay," I said, my voice coming out uncharacteristically high-pitched. "Thanks for the ride home, too. Earlier."

"My pleasure." He said, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a smile.

"Okay," I repeated myself, sounding like an i***t. "I'm―I'm gonna―"

"Do you need a ride home?" He asked.

I shook my head. "Oh, no, my friend Rachael―"

And, just then, my phone buzzed. Unbelievably, it was a text message from Rachael herself. I read it quickly, holding back laughter as I did so.

I swear to God, Vicki, don't be a martyr. Let the cute boy take you home! I'll be fine.

My head snapped up, and I caught sight of the redhead, who was standing in the crowded hallway, shooting me a wink. I rolled my eyes at her before turning back to Luke, who was waiting patiently.

"Um, actually," I said, with a smile, "If you wouldn't mind―"

He didn't say anything; he just smiled, picking up his keys from the counter and taking my hand. The touch itself sent a shock up my spine; I hadn't expected that. And yet, it felt so natural. Like I'd done it a thousand times before.

Which I hadn't.

As Luke pulled me out of the kitchen, I realized that he was beginning to tug me through the living room, into the crowd of people. The crowd of people where, somewhere, my ex-boyfriend was lurking.

"Luke," I said suddenly, and he stopped, glancing over his shoulder at me warily.

"Um..." I mumbled, "Aren't you parked―back there? In the front?"

I jabbed my thumb towards the front, and he shook his head.

"I'm out back. Is...is that okay?"

I saw the concern flash in his blue-gray gaze, and I forced myself to smile.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's okay."

And, with that, we were off again―Luke kept me close to his side as we moved through the crowd, passing puddles of alcohol, couples making out, and―of course―the dancing.

We were almost in the clear, really. We were almost at the back door.

Almost.

"Hey!" Came a coarse voice, an all-too-familiar voice. I cursed under my breath as Luke turned us around to face the speaker―who, to my dismay, was Tanner Hutchinson.

"What are you doing?" He asked, folding his arms and speaking directly to Luke.

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, brow furrowed. "I'm just going to get Victoria home―"

"Victoria, is it?" Tanner asked then, his piercing gaze falling on me for the first time in months. My breath hitched in my throat, I stared at my shoes, afraid to speak, afraid to breathe. "Funny. I thought it was Vicki."

At this point, Luke was far from catching on. I kept my head down, trying to regulate my breathing, wanting to wrench my hand from Luke's, but his grip just tightened.

"Tanner, what's with you, man?" He asked, and I pinched my eyes shut. "I'm just going to give her a ride home, there's no need to―"

"I'll give her a ride," he said then, and, unable to believe what I just heard, my eyes snapped up to meet his.

He was the same. Exactly the same. Tall with dark hair and ebony-colored eyes. Intimidating. Strong.

Bull-headed, I thought subconsciously, Arrogant.

"No," Luke said, in response to Tanner. The latter arched a brow, as if in challenge, and Luke's hand tightened around mine. "Look, we're not fooling around or anything. I'm taking her straight home. Stop making a big deal out of this, okay? Let's go."

The last two words, I realized, were directed at me. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, nodding, allowing myself to be tugged along by Luke, who walked quickly and evenly―as fast as he could without running―until we were outside and the cool air hit my face and I sucked in long breaths, as if I'd been deprived from air in those few minutes of terror.

"What was that?" He asked, and I didn't dare look up at him. Instead, I kept my eyes focused on my shoes, trying not to throw up.

"He―Tanner―I―"

Nothing came out right. My words were jumbled, and my voice seemed to stick to the back of my throat. I just put my hands in my hair and looked skyward, at the murky black dotted with stars, trying to clear my head.

"It was you." Luke breathed. "You were the one he dumped."

When I looked back up at him, I hated myself for feeling tears biting at the corners of my eyes. Wordlessly, I nodded, and he released a long breath.

"Damn," he said, sitting on the back step, and I followed suit. "No wonder you didn't want to come."

I didn't say anything; I just stared straight ahead, at the road past the driveway, where cars were flying past. The music pulsed behind us, and I could still hear the loud, drunken conversations that sounded from each nook and cranny of the large house.

I didn't say anything for a long time. But, eventually, Luke did.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, his voice soft, and I looked at him, confused. It must have shown on my face, because he shrugged, adding, "Sometimes it helps."

"Not―not really." I managed to say, and he nodded.

"That's okay, too."

So we remained there. Silent, side-by-side, with the excitement and rowdiness of the party still going on behind us. In our own little pocket of peace and quiet. There were no words exchanged; no explanations or consolations. Just silence.

Silence was what I desperately needed, and he was willing to give it to me.