Nothing about this made sense to him. Theoretically he understood the whys and wherefores, but emotionally Luke couldn't understand why – after all the horror his family had been through lately – his sister was sick. It didn't seem fair, and although he realised that things such as the chaos theory would support the idea of things happening randomly and therefore nothing being as organised as 'fair', inside he was only fifteen and he didn't want to see another of his siblings lie in a hospital bed.
The note that had been placed on the kitchen table indicated that Kevin had been gone for almost an hour, and as Luke scoured the fridge for something edible he considered his lack of transport or supervision. Sitting alone at the table made for five or six Luke stared into his orange juice waiting for the toaster to pop, the house seemed so quiet, so empty. Although he often felt like no one was listening to him, at least they were there, but right then the kitchen felt as if it was way too big and his brain was trying to shut off a nagging inside his head that suggested he call Grace.
Luke didn't even know if he knew Grace's number, and he was sure she wouldn't appreciate him finding it out. Still, it was said that in times of crisis we reach out to those we care most about, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he maybe just a little loved Grace Polk. Or, maybe not love, maybe intense 'like'.
After all his body was programmed – as a human – to lust after that of the opposite sex in order for procreation to occur, love only happened after your brain had caught up with your hormones and he was pretty sure that after their one and only kiss his brain would need a lot of time to catch up with the hormones.
The thing that kept his hand for reaching from the phone – except for the very possible threat of physical violence – was the fact that maybe, just maybe the kiss had been fuelled by repressed feelings of frustration from an inability to help Joan in her time of need rather than an attraction to him. He knew what he felt, or at least he was about as sure as he could be taking into account his status as a teenage boy, but the one thing he did not know was how Grace felt.
It made a quiet kind of guilt creep through his body that he was worrying about girls and girlfriends – lack thereof – while his sister was ill. Luke knew the scientific reasons why his mind kept wandering, he knew why Joan's illness was something he would only come back to sporadically. It was fear, but it didn't make him feel any better. In fact it made him feel worse, because he knew the reasons, he should be able to fight them and he wasn't even trying.
A dull metallic clang woke him from his reverie as Luke turned sharply, the toast already growing cold as he reached to pull it from the toaster. Jam in one hand, toast in the other Luke sighed and realised he would not be calling Grace Polk today and more than that he probably wouldn't be feeling any less guilty about thinking of girls while Joan was sick.
The note that had been placed on the kitchen table indicated that Kevin had been gone for almost an hour, and as Luke scoured the fridge for something edible he considered his lack of transport or supervision. Sitting alone at the table made for five or six Luke stared into his orange juice waiting for the toaster to pop, the house seemed so quiet, so empty. Although he often felt like no one was listening to him, at least they were there, but right then the kitchen felt as if it was way too big and his brain was trying to shut off a nagging inside his head that suggested he call Grace.
Luke didn't even know if he knew Grace's number, and he was sure she wouldn't appreciate him finding it out. Still, it was said that in times of crisis we reach out to those we care most about, and he wasn't ashamed to admit that he maybe just a little loved Grace Polk. Or, maybe not love, maybe intense 'like'.
After all his body was programmed – as a human – to lust after that of the opposite sex in order for procreation to occur, love only happened after your brain had caught up with your hormones and he was pretty sure that after their one and only kiss his brain would need a lot of time to catch up with the hormones.
The thing that kept his hand for reaching from the phone – except for the very possible threat of physical violence – was the fact that maybe, just maybe the kiss had been fuelled by repressed feelings of frustration from an inability to help Joan in her time of need rather than an attraction to him. He knew what he felt, or at least he was about as sure as he could be taking into account his status as a teenage boy, but the one thing he did not know was how Grace felt.
It made a quiet kind of guilt creep through his body that he was worrying about girls and girlfriends – lack thereof – while his sister was ill. Luke knew the scientific reasons why his mind kept wandering, he knew why Joan's illness was something he would only come back to sporadically. It was fear, but it didn't make him feel any better. In fact it made him feel worse, because he knew the reasons, he should be able to fight them and he wasn't even trying.
A dull metallic clang woke him from his reverie as Luke turned sharply, the toast already growing cold as he reached to pull it from the toaster. Jam in one hand, toast in the other Luke sighed and realised he would not be calling Grace Polk today and more than that he probably wouldn't be feeling any less guilty about thinking of girls while Joan was sick.