Luke

I met Luke two years ago at a party. My boyfriend, whom I assumed I'd be together with forever, had cheated on me and dumped me. My best friend had dragged me out to her brother's college frat party in an attempt to make me feel better. She'd went off to fuck around with some guy she'd never see again, leaving me to myself. Luke sat at the other end of the couch with a red solo cup in his hand, bobbing his head to the music.

I didn't know him at the time, but I'll swear to this day that he was one of those people that was just interesting to look at. And I mean that he was incredibly attractive and it was obvious that he didn't know it. I liked those kind of people. His lips were rosy and had a permanent pout, even when they parted over pearly white teeth in a smile. Skin so white he'd make Snow White envious was nearly the same shade of his white blonde hair that stood in all directions, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed.

A smirk shot across his face when his gentle blue eyes darted over to meet mine, to catch me staring awkwardly at him as I smoothed my hands across my lap. He had a lip ring through his bottom lip and I could see it moving, his tongue causing it to twirl. "Where'd you get that scar?" he suddenly asked, poking me in the leg and scooting over to sit directly next to me.

I stared at him for a moment, confused. His hand was still on the scar, now tracing it with his fingertips. "It looks like the Sooner State, y'know."

"The what?" I asked, feeling myself laugh a little bit. The alcohol I'd had must have been kicking in because I wasn't one to just open up to a stranger like I felt I was getting ready to. There was just something about Luke, though.

"The Sooner State. Y'know, Oklahoma," he replied in a 'duh' voice like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Without looking at his face, I could hear him roll his big, round eyes."So how'd you get an Oklahoma shaped scar?"

I looked down at the scar, almost as if looking at it would be the only way I could remember the story. "I burnt myself with a curling iron," I said lamely, my tongue suddenly becoming thick.

"I'm calling bullshit on that, there's no way that a curling iron could produce the shape of Oklahoma."

I sighed, knowing that the story was silly and not wanting to tell it, especially not to a stranger. But he wasn't so strange, already just talking him for a few minutes about a scar was relaxing. "Okay, but you can't make fun of me," I said, looking at him with a knowing look.

With a shit eating grin on his face, he held up his hand that still had the cup in it and put his other hand over his heart. "I swear I won't make fun of you and your weird Oklahoma shaped scar."

"Alright, when I was in middle school, I had to move from my home in Oklahoma to this shit ass place here in Maine. I may or may not have branded myself with the state of Oklahoma on my leg to make me remember where I'm from always."

"That's. . .probably the most homosexual thing I've heard all night," he laughed, taking another sip from his cup. He was close enough now that I could smell it. Vodka.

I whined "You said you wouldn't make fun of me!" though people around us were in full party motion, it seemed that there was only this boy and I in the room.

"I'm sorry, I was kidding," he said, sobering up instantly. "What's your name?" he asked, fiddling with one of the holes in his black skinny jeans. They had tears in all the trendy places.

"It's Charlene." I eyed his cup as I spoke, wanting something else to drink. I wasn't one to drink much, but when I got started I couldn't say no.

"Charlene? That's a shitty name," he said, thrusting the cup into my hand when he saw me licking my lips as I stared at it.

I frowned as I downed what was left in the cup. "You're not a very nice person. . . what's your name?"

". . . Chadwick," he mumbled, turning to yell at someone to get him a couple of more drinks.

"And you said my name was shitty? What, did your parents ship you off to some boarding school prep school from the time you could talk?" I asked, snickering as he handed me a bottle of Smirnoff.

"Shut up! But yes, I did go to boarding school. Hey, let's rename each other!" he exclaimed, popping the lid off of the glass bottle with his forearm. He must've been a professional drinker.

"Hm, okay. You.. look like a 'Luke,'" I said, taking a swig of my drink. He eyed me carefully, smirking at me.

"Luke? I like that name. And as for you, Charlene, you look like an. . .Azure," he said, knocking his hands up my thighs a little bit. I didn't mind, he probably could have lead me to a bedroom and done whatever he wanted to me and I wouldn't mind. But he didn't bother continuing, he just left his hand on my thigh.

We talked a lot that night. About love, life, and the universe itself. We kissed a few times, and he probably could have slept with me if he wanted to, and he acted like he did sometimes, but he didn't. And I liked that about Luke. I never saw him again after that night, but that's alright, 'cause my memories of him are ones I'll cherish forever and I'll never forget what he told me before we said goodbye that night. I had asked him what his motivation for coming to that party was that night, 'cause he'd admitted that he didn't know a single soul there and had come for shits and giggles.

"Because, Azure, we never remember the nights that we got enough sleep."