The long road to lunch felt like a million years instead of three simple hours. Luke hadn't said anything more to me and escaped from the room as soon as the bell rung. I am happy that Luke isn't wearing black, but I know he will be let off. He is the new boy; he doesn't know the rules around here. A part of me hesitates, not wanting to look like an idiot. The other half of me stands strong, so strong that I push against the doors and send them flying open. The whole school is inside. The whole school is wearing black and I instantly feel like the ground below me will fall. Blushing, I wander across the floor, keeping my head low and my eyes not straying from the lines that have been made from shoes.

Eventually, I make it to our table and I sit down, feeling breathless. "Hey," Sam says next to me and passes me half of her muffin. "I should have texted you this morning to let you know that we are wearing black." She said, blushing more than me. I laugh, knowing that I probably wouldn't have worn black even if she had text me.

"It's fine." I assured her and nibbled at the muffin she had placed in front of me.

"At least you're not the only one." She says, her eyes straying to the popular table.

"What?" I turn my head to see Luke hanging with the populars. "Oh." This sounds kind of lame, but I let any conversation of him drop and continue to eat.

"You don't seem too surprised." Sam continues the conversation, so I drop the muffin and turn my body to talk to her clearer.

"His name is Luke; he sits behind me in English and next to me in French. He started yesterday, he rode past us, remember? He's not exactly going to be wearing mourning clothes to a woman he has never met, is he?" I point out, raising my eyebrows and bringing me knees to my chest. Sam sighs, knowing that I am right.

"Well he has been snapped up by the popular crowd. Good luck with those lessons." She smiles; I guess correctly that she is trying not to laugh. Sighing, I go back to eating.

"I always get stuck around the populars', he didn't strike me as caring about the cliques, but I guess he does have the right face." I shrug, he is insanely hot.

"And body." She adds, that was the tip of the iceberg for us and we fall about in a fit of girly giggles.

"Are you talking about the new boy?" Our friend Kyle asks as he sets his tray down next to us. We are trying to pull ourselves together before we talk, so we just nod our heads and gulp down the rest of our laughter. "Or his body?" Kyle suggests. That sets us off again but this time Kyle joins in.

Kyle is gay. Which we accept fully, by the way. He isn't an obvious gay though, we didn't actually know until he told us. He doesn't act camp, and we don't take advantage of his majorly great shopping skills. Now, this falls back to stereotyping again. It annoys me so much that the populars assume it as awkward to have a friend like Kyle- especially for the guys at our table. But, Kyle is probably one of the best friends we could ever have. And sexuality doesn't separate us.

"What's your verdict Kyle?" Sam asks when we have calmed down. Kyle puts on his 'thinking face' for a few moments, occasionally looking over to catch a glimpse of Luke.

"He's as fit as a swim suit model off the front of those teen magazines' you two are obsessed with." He grins and flutters his eyelashes at us. Yes, we know that. I want to say. That's why he's at the popular table. "And I fear his world will now be corrupted with those of the popular table." He continues. Nodding, I look over at Luke, truly this time. I feel like I am staring, but I don't feel rude. That is, until Poppy nudges his him and sneers in my direction. A blush creeps into my cheeks' but I don't loosen my gaze.

Luke smiles at me, whispers something to Poppy which makes her sneer even more. Shaking my head, I drop my gaze and turn back to Sam and Kyle who are the middle in a deep conversation about the best teen magazine. Sam turns to me to say something, her mouth hanging open and staring over my shoulder. "Sam?" I say, crossing my eyebrows in a confused manner. "Have I got something on my shoulder?" I say, trying to see, I accidently turn in the other direction again. There, standing directly behind me, is Luke. He is holding his tray of food like he wants to sit with us.

"Hey," He says in a casual tone, like it is everyday that a popular comes over to eat with us. "Can I sit with you guys?" We nod numbly, not daring to say no. He flashes us a grin and sits down directly opposite me, causing a stir as the whole cafeteria turns to stare at us. Blushing, I hide behind my hair again, I feel exposed, I could almost hear the comments surrounding about us.

"Why are you sat here?" Sam hisses and I am no longer embarrassed, I have recovered and staring at her like she is crazy, which she most probably is- I have suspected it all along. I see Kyle also staring at her although he looks slightly terrified.

Luke's eyes widen at her blunt comment and he munches slowly before gulping the food down. "What do you mean?" I understand the shakiness in his voice, he is just as nervous as us, so why come over and join us? Kyle has recovered now as it seems Luke had not taken offense to Sam's rudeness.

"You have been chosen by the populars'. The populars' don't sit with us." Kyle explains sending anxious glances across the room. Luke's shoulders' relax at this and he sits back in his seat, also looking across the room.

"Oh." He says simply.

"So why are you sat here?" I ask, simply intrigued. Like I always am about this boy. He shrugs, continuing to eat.

"I felt like it." I laugh at this, Poppy Prince had been let down by a new boy just because he 'felt like it'. "You guys look like a lot more fun." He grins at us, especially at me; I hope the others don't notice.

"Well, we don't just look it. We are more fun." Sam says, attempting – very badly- to flirt. It is true though. The populars' do not look like fun. There is a limit to how many times a day you can talk about fake tan and eyelashes. Oh! And how cute the life guard at the pool looks.

"Glad to hear it," he says, as if he had barely taken the comment in. He continues to stare at me. With all of this attention it brings back that he doesn't have a death date, this boy is trouble and though I would kill to touch those kissable lips, I must stay away.

"Heaven?" Sam says, breaking my daydream, "Are you okay? You're not having another...Migraine are you?" What she means is 'vision', and I am thankful for her quick thinking.

"Oh, um. No I am fine." I reassure her and take a quick swig of my water, realising that my throat is really dry.

"You are quite a wreck aren't you?" Luke observes, smiling a little. Knitting my eyebrows together, I place the bottle down on the table and pretend not to take offense.

"What do you mean?"

"Fainting in class, migraines at lunch..." He says I stop him before he says anything else such as: 'running away'...

"Okay. Maybe I am a bit of a wreck, but it makes me so much more interesting than those stuck up Barbie dolls over there." I nod in Poppy's direction and we all laugh into our hands.

"Yes, that is certainly true." He says, still examining my face with his bright blue eyes. "I was only over there for about five minutes but their conversation was very..." He trails off, trying to find the right word.

"Boring?" Kyle suggests.

"Dead?" Sam adds.

"Crap." I say through my fingers. Yes, we are trying to break through the cliques; it doesn't mean we have to like the people that we are fighting with. Wait? Why would we like them anyway? We are fighting against them.

When the bell rings, Sam and Kyle head off in the same direction, leaving me to scurry in the opposite direction towards the changing rooms for P.E. "Hey Sam!" I hear Luke running to catch up with me.

"Yeah?" I say without looking back over my shoulder.

"You have P.E right?" He says, stopping me and swinging me around so that I can see him.

I nod, looking longingly in the other direction. I detest P.E, I hate changing with all of the other girls searching for my faults. I hate being outside in the freezing cold. I hate having to run when I am just not in the mood.

"Can you show me the way? Sorry, they explained where everything was, but my memory is not one of my talents." He smirks but I keep my face dead pan. I nod and grab hold of the strap to my bag, dodging all of the students running up and down the hall way.

He follows me, attempting to make a conversation again. "Sorry if I seemed pushy at lunch." He says, trying to stay close to me, but getting pushed back by the crowd. I keep my head low like the shy girl I am and fit through all of the gaps between people.

"Pushy? What are you on about?" I don't expect him to bring up the staring thing, what kind of boy admits to such a thing?

"I know it probably seemed like I was staring..." Apparently him. "But I was just trying to understand you." He says this in a way that sounds sort of like a stalker, but romantic at the same time. "I can usually know things about a person just by looking at them, you know?" I turn and look at him shell-shocked. I do understand. I understand completely, but I can't let him know that.

"I don't understand..." I say instead of lying. Well, let's face it I don't even understand myself.

"I don't either, but I feel, just by looking at someone I can tell so much about them. I don't just mean things like their age, I mean personal things. Things I'm not supposed to know." I raise an eyebrow, suddenly scared of what he is saying. He's not the same as me. He's not.

"Why are you telling me this?" I wonder. If he is like me, he wouldn't tell a stranger. I haven't even told my mother.

"Because you are just a blank to me." So he wants to be close to me because he doesn't understand me. And I want to be further away from him because I don't understand him.

Instead of saying that I understand and that I know what it's like. I say what any ordinary person would say in that situation. "Luke, I think you should speak to someone about this."

We have reached the changing rooms now and though I don't want to go in, I really can't stand being next to him for much longer, it makes my head hurt, the spurring of so many questions. "I am! I'm talking to you." He says, stopping outside the boys' changing rooms.

"No, I mean a professional. Someone who can help you Luke." I say, placing a hand on the door. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of any more help."

His smile has dropped and he seems defeated, shaking his head as if thinking I could help him crack this. "No, it's fine." He says rather angrily, shoving the door open and disappearing into the changing room. Sighing, I slowly open mine and walk inside; feeling sick and guilty.

I have a feeling this will not be the last of me and Luke.


Hey guys. It's been a while.

This story hasn't been as popular over the past couple of chapters so I was a bit slower updating.

Please, if you are reading leave a review, it makes me a lot faster.

Thanks, Bookgeek97.

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