Disclaimer: Hello Fellows! I do not own Supernatural or any related concepts or themes. I have no original ideas of my own – so I choose to copy off Eric Kripke.
AN: Yes, yes, yes. A long time since I updated. Sorry about the wait – this was a bit difficult to write and I have hardly any spare time. But, it is a rather lengthy chapter that will keep you roasty toasty for a while! Enjoy munchkins :)
Chapter Six
"I'd like to buy an E, please."
There was a high-pitched ding as two squares on the Wheel of Fortune board lit up, and the host beamed toothily into the camera. The audience clapped enthusiastically as the wheel clattered and the champ spun again.
"Top dollar!" The host exclaimed as it came to rest, and a clip of triumphant music blared.
"A 'Z' for Zechariah, thank you," the champ said smoothly. "I'd like to solve it please." He paused significantly. "Seize the day."
"Seize the day!" the host repeated in a forcibly animated voice. The audience clapped nonetheless, oblivious to the subtle mockery.
Luke scowled. He hated metaphoric television. And he hated it even more when it was smug metaphoric television that insisted on reminding him of the thing he was trying so hard to pretend wasn't a big deal. Today was the deadline. The absolute last day. His very last chance.
Charlie was coming over that afternoon. The past few months had been odd, to say the very least. Her detention date came and went, Dean Winchester served his suspension and then to cap the whole marvellous situation off, they were forcibly paired together for a piece of Biology assessment. Charlie was furious - and that was putting it lightly. Dean refused to work, refused to cooperate, refused to be the slightest bit agreeable. Charlie would come to Luke after nearly every class, practically crying with frustration. She was so angry, with herself for letting Dean get to her like that and with Dean for being so goddamn impossible. And after four weeks of struggles, battles of wills and heated arguments, Dean and Charlie handed the assignment in, only to receive it back four weeks later with a large 'C-' blemishing the front page.
And after that, things got weird. Charlie started being a little more subdued in her furious outbursts until she hardly complained about Dean at all. Luke didn't know if it was just him, but he started noticing the little things that were changing about her – like the fact that she put on mascara, or that she wore tops that hugged in the right places (not that he was complaining, mind you), or the fact that she smiled a lot more and that sometimes he couldn't find her after school so he walked home alone. He noticed, but he noticed that he was changing too, like all the growing up was done and now it was time to be an adult. He supposed that it was the same sort of thing for girls, although he knew he was far too inexperienced and knew too little about them to know for sure. Nonetheless, he found it easier to write off these changes as his interpretation of her beautiful transition into womanhood, and didn't read too much into it. Rather, he let himself dig further into a hole of messy feelings for close friends and now…well; the great American tradition of the high school prom was here to exacerbate the situation.
Luke and Charlie had decided long ago that the prom was so overrated that it wasn't even remotely worth going to. Yet, they had decided that it was one of those rudimentary rites of passage that you simply had to attend, even if you didn't want to. In his younger years, Luke had been sure that he would approach the event with a certain air of detachment, that he would be nonplussed about the entire affair because it was nothing but a forum for comparing looks and levels of popularity. He had envisioned himself arriving in a pressed white suit, marvellously dateless and free, ready to dance like an idiot and drink too much bad punch – absolutely set on defying any expectation that had been laid before him. But now that the actual real thing was here, he was finding it a little more difficult to summon the same courage of heart.
He didn't want to dance like a fool anymore. He didn't want to get drunk and embarrass himself. He had decided upon the white suit, but the most important thing…he didn't want to be dateless either. And he knew exactly whom he wanted to take. It was getting harder to justify now – although he was trying to convince himself that he just wanted Charlie beside him to help him get through the torture that was the prom, he knew that there was a deeper and infinitely more secret desire. There was a pesky, undeniable voice of truth that knew that he wanted to be her date because she was beautiful and he was in love with her, and if he had to share this night with anyone, he wanted more than anything for it to be with her.
He wasn't quite sure why he had left it this late. He knew she would say yes, but there was something that made him reluctant to embark upon his leap of faith. Some level of intuition that told him to wait a little longer, and then a little longer again until he found himself waiting for her to arrive at his house and taking life advice from Wheel of Fortune. Although he had been expecting her to arrive for a while, he was still surprised when she sauntered into his room, cheeks flushed and a wide smile on her face. Luke marvelled at how she looked the complete opposite of how he felt – whilst his hands quavered a little with nerves, she looked carefree and relaxed.
"Hey," she greeted him with a grin, flopping down on his bed after depositing her bag on the floor and kicking it under his desk.
"Hi," he replied, barely managing to hide the tightness in his throat.
She looked bemusedly at the television. "What are you watching this for?" she asked, considering the Wheel of Fortune host critically. "I always hated this show cause it was suspiciously like horribly insufficient metaphoric TV."
"Mmm," Luke could only bring himself to make a small sound of compliance as she leant across him to reach for the remote. She was so close he could smell her, feel the heat of her body and see things that he wished he could see again.
"So what are we doing tonight then? Movies? TV? It's up to you really," she said, surveying him sideways and puzzled by his apparent lack of responsiveness.
Luke clued in just in time. "I'm not sure. Thought we could just hang out, you know." He smiled at her, but she looked at him searchingly before returning it.
"Sure thing." Charlie fell silent and they both turned to the TV to cover the suddenly awkward moment.
After a few moments she spoke. "Is everything alright?" she asked, eying him with concern. It was unlike him to be so anxious.
Luke mustered a smile. "Absolutely," he said, knowing that he hadn't at all convinced her and lamenting at her incredulous look. "Well, I guess there is something I've been meaning to talk to you about."
Charlie nodded, glad that he wasn't wasting time with the pretence. Muting the TV, she clambered off the bed to sit on the floor beside him, waiting in patient silence for him to speak.
"Well, I…ah, Um. I just wanted to…" he stammered, not meeting her eyes and staring fixatedly at his interlaced fingers.
"Well spit it out," Charlie said kindly, encouraging him with a nod.
Luke took a deep breath, regaining his composure and telling himself not to be so stupid. This was his best friend for god sake.
"Will you be my prom date?" He was actually surprised at how natural the words sounded. They just slid out of his mouth as if they had simply been waiting for the right time, not as if every syllable had been deliberated and decided upon.
Charlie blinked. "Sorry?"
Luke smiled and looked at his shoes. "Stupid question. I know we are going together, but…I never really asked you properly. So I thought I would, just…confirm it, you know. I thought it might be nice." He glanced up at her, and was surprised to see her not beaming, but looking stricken.
"Oh, Luke," she said, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "You hadn't asked me, so I thought you were going with someone else…"
Luke cut her off, nodding. "I know it has taken me a while to get around to asking you…" he smiled at his earlier apprehension. This was nowhere near as bad as he thought it would be. "But you shouldn't have worried. I wouldn't have even considered going with anyone else," he ended, putting a reassuring arm around her.
"Um. Well, thank you, I suppose. But…that's not the problem," Charlie said, biting her lip and looking at him hesitantly. "I…I can't be your prom date."
His eyebrows drew together in incomprehension, and he withdrew his arm from around her shoulders. "What do you mean? I know it's the prom and it's ridiculous, but I thought we had decided to go anyway."
Charlie looked away, seemingly fascinated with the wall, and Luke wondered why she refused to meet his eyes. "I…I - " her voice faltered and she moved her gaze to her lap. "I am going, just with…with someone else."
Luke felt his stomach lurch and then plummet down to the very core of the earth. "Sorry?" he asked, although he had heard perfectly well.
He heard her let out a tiny breath. "I'm sorry. I'm going with someone else."
The silence spiralled horribly, and Luke felt heat rush to his face. He hadn't considered that response. He had never felt so embarrassed or so vulnerable in his life. It was like one of those horrible dreams where you walk into school naked – only this was real and he had all his clothes on. Not that that made him feel much better, because he still felt the rough burn of humiliation.
"Oh." His voice sounded hollow, even to him.
"Luke, I am so sorry. I feel so bad." Now Charlie met his eyes and the concern on her face eased his embarrassment, just a little.
"No, you're alright. It's… it's my fault. I should have known someone else would ask you. Don't feel bad," he mumbled, smiling faintly at her before looking down. That took a lot of effort.
"I do," she said earnestly, feeling desperately wretched. " I'm so sorry." She took his hand and Luke saw tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
He knew that she wanted him to tell her that everything was alright, that it didn't matter, that it was ok…but the pity in her eyes was so sincere that it made him feel sick and all of the sudden he just wanted to be alone. He closed his eyes. "It's…fine," he murmured, giving into her.
Charlie heard the empty approval, and a lump grew in her throat. Knowing that she had hurt him, that she had hurt someone that had been such a good friend to her…it was devastating. She took a breath and let go of his hand. "I should have told you earlier."
He merely shrugged, and suddenly the room felt too small for the both of them. She retrieved her bag and stood. She wanted to say something; anything to make him feel better…but the sight of his dejected figure killed any words she could have possibly thought of. She turned away.
"Who is it? Who are you going with?" His voice escaped despite himself, and he looked in time to see her hand falter on the doorknob.
There was a lengthy pause and she bowed her head. She didn't want to answer this question. Luke waited – both wanting and not to hear the answer. The silence could not have been more complete – Luke could hear the creak of the house, the birds plunging through the air outside.
Charlie took a deep breath, gripping the handle tightly and looking up at the door. "Dean Winchester," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.
And without even turning around, she opened the door and walked through it. He heard her go down the stairs, feet making soft flumps on the carpet. Heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing again. Heard the crunch of the gravel path as she walked away.
He wondered vaguely how he was ever going to look at her again.
A few days afterwards, Charlie came to visit. Luke had been avoiding her, because he didn't know what hurt more: the fact that she wasn't going to the prom with him, or the fact that she was going to the prom with Dean Winchester. He wasn't sure why, but he felt some horrible sense of injustice. He had always been there for her, was nice to everyone, he was smart and he cared about her – yet she had chosen the smarmiest, most chauvinistic, self-absorbed and meanest person he had ever met, let alone the fact he had known her for all of five minutes.
If it had been anyone else, Luke thought that he could of dealt with it. Sure it would have been embarrassing, but anyone, anyone but Dean Winchester. The person he both detested and wished more than anything – especially on prom night – that he could be. There was just one burning question – why. Why him? Why, when not two months ago you said you hated him? When two months ago you slapped him so hard you left a handprint in his face? Luke hadn't realised that he had spoken the questions aloud until Charlie had started answering them. And when she told him that she thought that she was in love with Dean, the most horrible thing was that Luke loved her even more. He knew, more than anything, that you can't chose who you love – so instead of taking satisfaction from her tears, he put his arms around her and said that he didn't hate her, that he never could. And when she told him that even though she wasn't his date, the prom just wouldn't be the same without him, he found himself agreeing to go, despite the fact that he would be desperately alone.
Now, however, he was starting to regret his decision. He arrived ten minutes early and slunk in through the gym doors, not appreciating the garish decorations painstakingly put up by the organising committee. With some couples already there, Luke hid behind an overgrown pot plant, desperately wishing another lonely soul would arrive and ease his discomfort. Before long, some other boys joined him and a couple of minutes later, a few girls he knew from his biology class were also taking refuge behind the unkempt green. Luke sighed, shuffling over to the punch table and trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. Unfortunately, he had just filled a cup and taken a rather large gulp when he turned to see Dean and Charlotte entering through the gym doors. This sight alone was enough to make him swallow rather quickly, and subsequently resulted in a coughing fit. Fortunately, no one was really looking in his direction so his attack went relatively unnoticed – except for one person.
"Are you alright?" Charlotte's voice was like silk, and he felt her hands rubbing his back.
"Fine thanks," he spluttered, standing upright and for the first time taking in her appearance. "Wow. You look beautiful," he said, and he meant it. No matter what happened between them, he found it impossible to lie to her.
Charlie smiled. "Thanks. You're looking alright yourself."
Luke half laughed, eyeing himself up and down and noting with disdain that he already managed to spill punch on his white suit. "Thanks."
"Charlie?" A deep voice interrupted their stilted conversation and Dean Winchester approached them.
"Dean," Luke didn't miss the relief in her voice. Or the little smile that crinkled the corners of her mouth when she looked over at him.
Dean nodded towards the dance floor, where a number of couples had already assembled. "They're about to play the first song."
"Right," Charlie rubbed her stomach, like she always did when she was apprehensive. "Well, come and say hello won't you? I want to dance with my best friend!" She laughed, but the sound quickly died in her throat. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Dean reach for Charlie's hand.
She looked down and then up, and then leaned forward and pecked Luke on the cheek, before folding herself back into Dean. Dean glanced at Charlie and then at Luke and smiled genially. Luke wanted to stab him in the face, but reduced himself to nodding graciously, watching as he led Charlie away.
There was a blast of sound from the speakers as the first song was projected around the room. Despite himself, Luke's eyes were glued to Charlie and Dean. He watched as Dean whispered something in her ear, tilting her chin up with one hand and looking at her the way that Luke wished he could. He saw Charlie smile and laugh, and then suddenly look serious as Dean pulled her closer to him, resting on of his hands on her hip and enfolding the other in his own. Even from this distance, Luke saw Charlie melt against him and took a large swig of punch to put out the raging fire of jealousy.
That was possibly the lowest point of the night. That, or when he went out to get some air. Stumbling down to the park near the gym, he found Dean kissing Charlie underneath the old willow tree; with moonlight in their hair and a slight breeze making them huddle together for warmth. And he could tell: from the way he held her and the way she pulled his face to her again…Luke knew he could never love her enough.