8. Deep.
"If I tell you I love you, can I keep you forever?"
- Casper, Casper the friendly ghost.
"You're mad." Luke had run to catch up with me, and he wasn't at all breathless. It was grossly unfair, Mrs Cohen, grossly unfair.
I stayed silent.
"Now, want to tell me why you're mad? Because I'm drawing up a big fat blank." He sighed. "Ruby. You're mad. I can tell." I wonder if the not-talking-to-him stance had given that away.
It broke the minute he stood in front of me, in all his Luke-ness glory. "Maybe we need to talk, Luke." It was the reason why I was mad. That we needed to talk. That, and Luke refused to sit still. He wanted to relax, just goof around and do silly things. Things he rarely got to do because he was the last Van Helsing and therefore occupied with things like smiting and grading. I wanted to talk, and he wanted to watch movies and hiss and boo when they got boring. I liked doing those things too, Mrs Cohen, but I'd been demoted recently, and I was hurt!
"Oh, really?" He looked at me through his fringe.
"Yeah, really."
"Well." He shoved his hands into his pocket. "What do you think I'm trying to do?" A hint of a smile played on his lips, and I did not react well to that, Mrs Cohen.
"Piss me off?" I pushed past him.
He laughed. "Come on Ruby, don't be like that." He was acting like this was the result of a mood swing, and not him stabbing me in the heart.
I could be miserable if I wanted to, Mrs Cohen, and Luke Van Helsing could not tell me what to do.
"Ruby!" He called out loudly, so people walking down the street could hear. Fortunately, this was London and no one cared, but still. He was trying to embarrass me, Mrs Cohen, I was sure of it.
It did not work. I walked and walked, and he followed me. "Ruby! Seriously. You can't ignore me forever." Feasibly, that was true. I could however, give it my best shot. "Ruby. I know you. You can't say no to coffee. Hell will freeze over if you do."
Damn him.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my Achilles heel painfully obvious. Luke pulled me behind him, his warm hands clasping my ones. I did not resist, because there was coffee in it for me.
"So," Luke said after we'd sat down, grande lattes in hand. "Are you going to tell me why I'm being ignored?"
I could not tell him that the reason why I was not talking to him was because he'd said I was his best friend, and that was not enough. Would you have told him, Mrs Cohen? I thought not. "Ignoring you? Me? Never!"
He sipped his mocha latte, one eyebrow raised. It was a look of doubt, Mrs Cohen, but he let it slide. "So, what did you want to talk about?"
The coffee suddenly seemed very interesting, Mrs Cohen. I inspected the dark brown colour and sipped it to let the bitter, creepy taste run over my tongue.
"Well?" Luke was like a dog with a bone. He would not let go.
"The things is..." My speech sprang to mind, Mrs Cohen, but my voice gave out. I tried again. You'd be happy to know that I revised it. I thought it was quite good, but needed some work. Okay, okay, it needed a lot of work.
I cleared my throat, and looked at him. Having been on the tip of my tongue for so long, the words slipped out. "The thing is Luke, you prat, I love you." You know you're in deep, Mrs Cohen, when those words make your stomach do flip flops.
"Woah." He stopped drinking, the mug frozen halfway to his mouth.
Seriously, Mrs Cohen, woah? Was I a horse? Had there ever been a horse called Ruby? I think not. I told him I loved him, Mrs Cohen, and I expected the world to move. I expected the stars to align in my favour, for fate, to once, just once work well for Luke Van Helsing and let him be loved the way he deserved to be loved. But, life doesn't work like that, does it Mrs Cohen? No, you're right. It doesn't.
Luke would never be that boy, the one who had the normal life with the happy ending. He'd be that boy that lived in the shadows, wondering what could have been, and I would be there watching over him, for as long as I could, because I didn't get to keep him forever. I knew he worried about being alone, Mrs Cohen, but it was a problem of his own making. He thought it was better this way, no hard feelings for either party, if he was alone. I understood that he was reluctant to get hurt again, to lie, to have this endless, tiring charade constantly up, even after a hard days smiting. It was bad enough already, him having to lie to his mum. I understood. I did.
Luke just had to understand one thing.
I wouldn't be around forever.
