Picking Up the Pieces

I opened the door to Lucas’s room and walked in. It was pretty cool: one pair of opposite walls were silver, and the other pair was gold. There was a black desk, black chest of drawers, black swirly chair, a huge black bookshelf, a gold beanbag, and a silver beanbag, as well as a few random pieces of crud. All the doors were painted black, and the wood of the bunk bed was black. Apparently, the theme was black, silver, and gold.

There was a door to a closet, bathroom, and the exit. I didn’t ouch anything except the black wood floor; I just looked around. Across the walls were posters of various bikers, singers, and (I rolled my eyes) bikini-clad girls. The wall above his desk had a bulletin board plastered with pictures.

Pictures of Lucas, his siblings, friends, girlfriends, parents, and other relatives. I put my stuff in a neat pile on the floor and moved closer, examining each picture.

There were a few of baby Lucas. He had been an adorable child in his toddler years. What happened? His bright green eyes shined with childish joy and his blonde hair was as fluffy as candyfloss, plus he was super chubby. Now his eyes were mischievous in the jerky, seductive way. His hair was straight and slightly long, and his body was all about the freaking muscle.

I paused as one picture caught my eye more than the others. Me? It was me, sitting on a Six Flags bench, unaware of the camera, hugging my huge white bear, Luke (Lucas nicknamed him “Junior”) to my chest. My hazel eyes were bright and I was actually smiling in a sincere way I haven’t done in a while. I barely recognized myself with the fewer piercings, longer hair, and no tattoo.

Junior was carefully packed into one of my bigger suitcases -- I couldn’t bear to leave him behind. No pun intended! When no one else was there for me, Junior was. Sad that a cheap, old badly stitched bear was my best friend...but true.

I sighed and straightened up, only to collide with someones chin. “OW!” I cried at the same time as the person did.

I looked up -- it was Lucas. He chuckled, rubbing his teary, red eyes. “We never stop doing that whenever we see each other, do we?”

I remained silent and tried to move away, but he grabbed my hips. I stiffened -- I wasn’t use to physical contact.

“Can we please try to get along?” he begged. “Please?” The seductive look was gone from his eyes and replaced with longing and regret.

“Why should we?” I asked quietly, actually wanting to know the answer.

“Come on!” he pleaded. “Please?” His strong man grip was starting to hurt my slim, girlish figure.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I will not pretend you do not exist.”

“No! That’s not good enough,” he scolded. “Say, ‘I will try to get along with Luke.’”

“I will try to get along with Lucas,” I repeated in a bored tone.

“Luke.”

“Lucas.”

“Luke.”

“Lucas.”

“Luke!”

“Man, you’re pushing your luck,” I spat, struggling out of his grip.

He tightened his grip and pulled me closer, resting his chin on my head. Sadly, he was a good six inches taller than me. Embarrassment, you may proceed.

“Are you going to let me go?”

“No,” he said resolutely, pulling me even closer. I sighed again. There was no getting out of his death grip. I remembered from before, plus he must have been working out more, because he’s more buff. And strong. Which is worse for me because that makes him heavier and makes it harder for me to run away.

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t held you for so long.” Saying that, he twirled me around, and before I could squirm away, he wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace. It felt like I was a doll, I was so small compared to him.

“And whose fault is that?” I taunted.

“Yours,” he replied automatically.

“Haven’t you ever heard it’s not polite to let a woman take the blame?”

“What do I know about politeness?” he demanded. I sighed. There was no winning with this boy. If he wants to grab you by the waist, you stay there until he’s done. If he wants to hug you, then there’s no moving until he’s done. I’ll bet if he wanted me to become a heterosexual bear wrestler with him, then I’d have to do it until he was done.

“Nothing, apparently,” I muttered.

“Oh yeah, I forget to mention, Mom wanted me to let you know that we’re moving into the attic room. My sister Devon is coming with her husband, so they get this room.”

“Okay. How’s about you let go of me now?”

“But this feels nice.” He buried his face deep into my neck. Ha, he’d have back pain later, since he had to bend down so much. That’s insulting.

“Not for me, you dork.”

“Why’d you change so much? You even smell different!” He sniffed my hair, making me squirm uncomfortably.

“They stopped selling my old shampoo two years ago,” I deadpanned.

“But what about everything else? Why?”

“To start over, I guess. Which me do you prefer?”

He brought his face out to examine my own. “You’re beautiful either way...” he said uncertainly.

“Answer the question, Lucas,” I commanded. “And let go." It’s so hard to stay cool around Lucas. Maybe it’s his infuriating personality. I can’t even pretend to ignore him at all. It’s only Lucas that makes me so angry I break out of my shell. Damn.

“I’m not letting go.”

“What if someone walks in?”

“Let them be jealous. You’re my bride anyway, so why should this be weird?”

“Doesn’t it bother you at all?” I asked quietly. “Us getting married?”

“Should it?” His ignorance worried me. What part does he not get about that fact that he’s going to get married to someone who he doesn’t love? Or let alone know...is he as clueless as before?

“Don’t you want to get married to someone...you know...that you actually love? Doesn’t having an arranged marriage bother you?”

Lucas’s face changed to hurt. “You don’t want to get married to me?”

“Frankly? Not if hell froze over,” I replied honestly. And I didn’t; it was the most truthful thing I could say. I did not, under any circumstances, want to get married to him. I don’t want to get in the middle of a cat fight between the girlfriend that he obviously has now, maybe even one who expects him to propose.

“Don’t you love me?”

I avoided his penetrating look. “I don’t love anyone in that way anymore.”

“Anymore? You used to?”

“Well...don’t you have a girlfriend you like?” I said, avoiding the question.

He let out a quick bark of humorless laughter. “Not one who wants me for me.”

My face hardened even more. “Still in your player ways then, my dear?” I asked, using the term of endearment sarcastically.

He finally let go of me, but gripped my shoulders tightly. “What?”

“You haven’t changed, have you Lucas?" I asked bitterly. “And yet you wonder why I run away from you each time you come closer.”

“Why do you run away fro me, Jordan?” Lucas asked honestly

I snorted loudly at his plain ignorance. “How is it possible you don’t know? I’ve changed, Lucas. I’m not so naiive anymore. I won’t fall for you tricks.” In his surprise, he let go of me. I stamped to the door and opened it, hating how much he affected me.

“Wait Danny!” he called desparately.

“What have I told you about calling me Danny?” I asked icily as I closed the doors. I walked out of the room with my arms crossed, only to bump into Mrs. Travel. Er...that is...Julia, I suppose.

“Hello, Jordan!” she said cheerfully. “Did Luke tell you about the attic?”

I remembered something Lucas had told me a while back, something about the attic room. Something about how a new couple was going to be renting out the room soon. I chuckled internally at the thought. How ironic.

“Yes, he did,” I replied in my quiet way.

“I’m sorry about that, my dear. I didn’t think Devon would come; she’s usually so busy! But they have a newborn, so it’s hardly practical to allow them to sleep somewhere up high, don’t you think?”

“It’s fine, Julia,” I said quickly.

“You don’t talk as much anymore, do you, dear? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. I’m just more of a people-watcher than a talker nowadays.”

“If there’s anything you need to talk about, Jordan, I’m here.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it Julia.” She appeared to wait for me to say something else, but when I remained silent, she shook her head a little.

“You’re not one to waste words, now are you?”

I smiled just a little. “I want to be the one who talks the least...but actually says the most,” I said slowly and deliberately. “One word hastily could mean trouble.” I had no trouble with controlling my appearance unless the other included Lucas. He broke down all my walls without even realizing it.

Julia looked a little worried for me. “So, your words are very valuable to you, you mean?”

“Less is more,” I said politely. “But thanks for your concern.” I waved goodbye and made my way to the end of the hall where the attic ladder stood leaning against a wall.

My words are very valuable to me, but they aren’t so valuable in general. Not yet. But I will make them seem that way. Sooner or later.