the hating game ; lrh

twenty-three

"YOU TWO ARE GETTING along oddly well today," Calum observes from where he is perched across the kitchen bench.

Ever since Luke and I's colossal argument at band practice many weeks ago, Calum had insisted on being present in our Spanish tutoring lessons. "I could use the extra help, too," he had argued initially, though we all knew exactly why he was present — to keep any budding Rory and Luke arguments under wraps. If only he knew.

It had been a week or so since Luke and I's near-miss in the science room, and our pact of secrecy had been, to my surprise, running remarkably smoothly. We spent time together wherever we could — when Calum was away, when everyone was occupied with extracurriculars during lunch, with a few fleeting private moments here and there — and for the most part it felt like it was working. Overall, I did feel a lot better about our relationship.

Not that we were in a relationship at all. We decided to steer clear of that label, and I was glad for it. Much like Luke, I still remained unsure of what exactly I wanted out of... whatever this was. Fling? Unlikely. Relationship? Unsure. One night stand? Definitely not. Friends with benefits? We weren't even friends to begin with. Enemies with benefits? Maybe.

I exchange a wary glance with Luke — Calum was right. It had been far too long since Luke and I had even exchanged a snarky comment, which presented as extremely suspicious.

"You won't be saying that when I give her back her latest test," Luke muses. For a moment I am relieved — once again, he's managed to offset a potential disaster — but this is quickly replaced by confusion when I realise that he actually does have a test to return to me today.

"What?" The word escapes my lips just as Luke slaps down a piece of paper on the kitchen bench and slides it toward me. The big, fat red 'C-' plastered on the front could probably be seen from space. "Oh."

Luke turns to Calum, an evil smirk playing on his lips. "I think it's time we finally had your sister checked out," he says.

"Fuck off," I retort, glaring up at him briefly before turning back to the paper. I don't have time to reprimand him on his derogatory choice of insult. How did I get a c-minus? "I don't get it."

"What is there not to get?" Luke's attitude continues, and I hope that he reels it back in soon before I explode. "You suck."

I ignore his comment and stare blankly at him. "I studied for this test," I turn to my brother for backup, waving the paper at him. "Didn't I? I studied every night."

Calum nods in my defence, but Luke simply shrugs carelessly. "Clearly not hard enough," he deadpans.

I look up at him through somewhat hurt eyes. On the surface, I know that he's simply playing a facade in front of my brother, but deep down his words are beginning to hurt. "I really tried for this one, Luke."

But his demeanour doesn't shift despite the obvious hurt peeking through my words. "Well, try harder," he retorts, smirking across at Calum, who remains neutral in his seat.

I let out a huff and sit back in my seat, not wanting to press the matter further with my brother sitting right there. "Asshole," I mumble, though I do so loudly on purpose, and I don't have to look up to know Luke has heard me.

I begin sifting through my paper, scanning for all of my errors, cursing myself for not being able to grasp the subject. What I told Luke was true; I really did study very hard for the test, despite not wanting to, and I had still made no improvements. As my thoughts begin to race, I am filled with worry — if I can't pass Spanish, I won't be able to graduate. Never mind that, if I don't get a decent grade in Spanish, I won't be able to attend any of my top universities — I wanted to go to Yale, for crying out loud.