ARI.

Who knew Luke Hemmings could actually be fun? The blonde quiff, preppy style, stupid friends, and his belittling demeanor was all he was known for. But here he was, sitting next to me, driving to Los Angeles with the music blasting from the speakers and an outrageously ginormous grin etched on his face. This side of Luke was a side I didn't even know was capable of being inside the Aussie, but boy did he really show me up.

"I can't believe we're doing this right now," I threw my hands to my head, not knowing how my limbs should function in a time like this. "Who the fúck are you Hemmings?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he bellowed with a chuckle, even he could sense my weirdness that was beginning to exude.

"Of all people to have an LA adventure with and I'm having it with you," I expressed, emphasizing the word 'you' with a playful shove of his shoulder.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" he questioned, "I love the city."

"No, I mean, who doesn't love the city? I'm talking about your spontaneity. I've known you since you moved to Percival Shores, so about a year and a half. And not once did I ever get the impression that Luke - whatever your middle name is - Hemmings is the type of guy to do things on a whim," I explained, moving my hands at the same time to better enhance the confusing feelings I was having.

"Okay, so maybe you're right," Luke agreed, taking a quick second to look at me, "I'm not one to really take crazy risks but you've seen my friends. They're more polished and enjoy other things. If I were in LA with them, we'd be going to trendy rooftop parties."

"Can you even get into those? You're not even 18 yet," I pointed out. "Or 21, aren't those things 21 and up only?"

"Trust me, when you're someone like Jake Hansen or Katie McQuaid, who both have very prominent parents, you can get into anywhere," Luke disclosed. His tone of voice almost sounded like a shudder, like he was almost disgusted to have TMZ-worthy friends like Jake and Katie.

"You're not taking me to some ritzy rooftop party are you?" I raised a brow.

"Fúck that... no we're going to Milk!" Luke announced happily.

"We're getting milk?" I repeated, puzzled with his idea of dessert.

"Not getting Milk, going to Milk," he corrected. I was still confused, "do you known what French macarons are?"

"You mean macaroons?"

"No, macaroons are the lumps of coconut biscuit things. Macarons are the small French pastries that look like Pretty Patties,"

"Hold up," I said, holding my hand out, "did you just reference Spongebob?"

"Yea so?" Luke shrugged, "are you against sponges? Don't be racist!"

"I'm not racist against sponges you dimwit," I laughed, "I freaking love Spongebob that's all. I didn't think you watched cartoons."

"I love cartoons. My friends like MTV," and with that simple justification, I already knew that watching Spongebob was something Luke couldn't enjoy to the fullest without his so-called friends judging him.

I nodded my head, "I see, I see. Sucks, man... but tell me more about these macarons?"

"Oh yea," Luke jumped in his seat, re-grasping the wheel with utter excitement. He was such a big child, "so Milk is a place where you can get ice cream filled macarons! Different flavors and everything. It's amazing."

"Wow, that actually does sound good," I admitted, surprised of how I've never heard of the place before. Then again, trips to Los Angeles weren't something I did often like Luke apparently did.

Luke turned up the music, singing at the top of his lungs while I sat in the passenger seat staring at him. This was so weird, but so awesome at the same time. After about 30 minutes on the freeway, and only hitting slight traffic, we switched over to the 101-freeway that took us straight into downtown LA.

The skyline was remarkable.

Every window in each sky scraper were lit up, glowing brightly in the night. We passed by the Staples Center and the convention center, the the bright marquee illuminating my face as I stared out the window in awe.

"I take it you don't come to LA often?" Luke asked, turning down the music. He smiled at me for a second before reverting his eyes back to the road.

"Not at night," I breathed.

There was a moment of silence, only the ear-gasmic sounds of Mayday Parade coming through the speakers. Then, he spoke again.

"I have another idea,"

"You're just full of ideas tonight aren't you?"

"I have all this adrenaline in me still," Luke justified, "and we're going to my favorite place for dessert so excitement is just running through my blood."

"Okay fair enough. What's your new and fascinating idea?" I mused.

"I was just planning on taking you back to your house after dessert, but I'm deciding against it," he declared, slowing down the car and exiting off of the freeway. "We came all this way and I don't want to leave after 30 minutes of stuffing our faces in sugar."

"So what are you proposing?" I was definitely curious as to what crazy schemes floated around in Luke's crazy little mind.

"Let's just have an all night LA adventure? Let's get into some shenanigans, walk around Sunset Boulevard, try to look for some celebrities! We'll watch the sunrise from the Griffith Observatory and once the sun has fully risen, we shall go back home to our small coastal town. What do you say Quiroz, you in?"

Okay, there was something definitely going on with Luke. Some time between getting picked up from my house to journeying our way into the city, Luke must've contracted some kind of weird disease. Why on Earth would he be this spontaneous? But at the same time, why wouldn't he?

It wasn't until last Saturday when I had that first drunken encounter with Luke, did I speak more than two sentences to him. We went to the same school yes, and we did have classes together, but I never gave him the time of day. I always did my thing and he did is. Luke Hemmings was never in my radar, and I never concerned myself with any drama that ensued between the popular crowd.

And now, at a quarter till 9PM, was I sitting in Luke's car somewhere in LA on our way to a place that he deemed as his favorite dessert spot.

What is this sorcery?

"Almost there," Luke announced, and I could hear the joy in his words. He turned the music back up slightly and rolled down the windows. The cool air whipping my hair in a chaotic flare.

"Was that just? Did we pass..." my words faded, my hand out the window and my finger brandished towards the large, tan building in the background.

"Paramount Studios?" Luke finished, as if reading the wonder on my face. "Yup!"

"Oh my gosh. I think I'm fangirling over a building," I fanned my face with my hand for over dramatization.

"You're fúcking weird Ari Quiroz," Luke laughed out loud, reaching over and shoving my shoulder.

We were somewhere past Melrose when Luke slowed down the car and turned into a private lot. He took the first open space he saw and parked, the music coming to a halt. We both hopped out of the car, slamming our doors shut in sync. I rounded the front, meeting him in between two cars and following the tall boy to a very lively shop.

"Are you excited?" Luke looked at me from over his shoulder.

"Not as excited as you," I teased. He stuck out his tongue like a 4-year-old. Yup, he was such a toddler.

We walked around the white building to the front where the bright lights from inside flooded through glass doors and windows. At the very top were the words Milk, in all-caps and each letter plastered on a red milk-bottle shaped sign. Luke walked in first, holding the door open for me. The second I stepped foot into the spirited shop, was the moment my senses - particularly my smelling ones - fell in love.

My eyes rolled back as my nostrils flared out, as if to let more of the aroma fill my nose. A chuckle escaped Luke's lips.

"What?!" I glared at him.

"Nothing," he threw his hands up. "Come on, let's get in line. What would you like?"

We stood behind a line of about 7 people, which hopefully gave me enough time to pick out what I wanted. I looked up at the menu board, amazed by how many selections they had. Luke only mentioned the macaron ice cream sandwiches but failed to mention the other types of desserts available.

"So many choices," I told him, "what are you getting?"

"I think I'm gonna go for the red velvet macaron sandwich. It has bits of cake in it," he looked down at me with a grin, proud of his decision.

"That sounds good. I think I'll get the same," I decided.

Luke shook his head, "no, you can't Ari. Otherwise, we can't wee-wee for a wah-wah."

I raised a brow, "the fúck you just say white boy? What the hell is a wee-wee for a wah-wah?"

"Like sharing? You have a bite of this, and I have a bite of that? Wee-wee for a wah-wah," Luke defined matter-of-factly, as if his phrase was some kind of international, well-known thing. "So you have to get a different flavor than me Ari."

"You're crazy Hemmings," I face-palmed myself, shaking my head at Luke's child-like antics. "But fine, I'll pick something else."

I looked up at the menu again, my eyes scanning between flavors. My mind vacillated from one flavor to the next, and I couldn't decide. So I did what any mature 17-year-old would do: I did eeny-meenie-miney-mo in my head,

"Blueberry," I said, looking back at Luke.

"Good choice," he commended.

We walked up to the employee and I let Luke do all the talking. It was clear that he had been here often because he knew exactly what to say before the question could even be asked. Within 3 minutes Luke had ordered, payed, and a large blue and white concoction was placed in my hands.

"This looks amazing," my eyes widen at the treat before me.

"Wait till you taste it," Luke smiled, "come on, let's eat it outside."

The two of us sat at a table off to the side. The moment my butt was planted on the chair, my lips were wrapped around the cold dessert. I took a bite and holy fúck, I was in heaven.

"I am in love," I declared, "thank you for bringing me here."

"I told you this place was amazeballs," Luke said proudly, taking a bite out of his own dessert.

"So how exactly did you find this place?" I asked him, "you asked Siri to read your heart and she guided you here?"

"No," Luke laughed, "though technology would be crazy if Siri could read my heart's desire... I was actually out with Jake, Katie and our other friends. I was definitely buzzed and definitely annoyed with their conversation. So I ventured off away from them when they weren't paying attention. And then bam! I stumbled into this place."

"Did your friends find you?" I questioned, taking another bite. God, this was so yummy.

"Nope... I don't even think they even tried," Luke shrugged, "but I didn't mind."

"How'd you get home?"

"Your favorite person ever came to pick up my ass,"

"Beyonce?" I joked.

"Almost," he grinned, "my mum."

"Whoa, Mrs. Liz Hemmings drove 40 minutes out? What'd she say?" I was seriously engrossed by this topic and I almost forgot about the melting treasure in my hand.

"She was really pissed off. I don't blame her though. She didn't even lecture me that night. She was silent the whole ride home, that's how I knew she was done with my bullshit," he disclosed.

"Then why the hell do you keep doing this kind of shit Luke," I questioned, concern in my eyes. I scooted my chair closer in, leaning my body forward to give him my full attention.

"If I stop hanging out with my friends, then I'm out of my group. Being popular means sticking to the status quo - and yes, I did just reference High School Musical... I still have the rest of Senior year to endure and then I'm out," Luke explained. He took a bite out of his dessert.

I felt sorry for the kid. It was like he was in prison; shackled by the societal ladder and he was at the top. One wrong move and they'd cut him loose. But it wasn't the idea of losing his popularity that made me feel pity, it was the fact that he was scared of the idea of not being popular.

If the Luke that was spending time with me now, acted like this at school, he wouldn't be casted as some kind of pariah. Sure he wouldn't be popular, but he'd still have friends. Luke had no reason to be scared of losing his title as a popular kid - none of that will matter in the future anyway.

"Enough about me," Luke hastily said, "what's up with you? And what's that thing that your sister said about an escort? And debuts?"

"It's a Filipino thing," I quickly explained. "A Debut or cotillion is the Filipino version of a sweet 16 or a Quincenira but we have it at 18 years old. Normally, the celebrant has a court made up of 9 girls and 9 boys. And she has an escort."

"Ah I see. What else happens in this, Debut?" Luke asked, air-quoting the word and mimicking my voice.

"Lots of dancing, food, more dancing, speeches, more dancing, and then more food," I illustrated, sticking a finger out for each point. "Usually girls who come from families with more money rent out huge venues; they invite all their friends and family to attend. It takes months to prepare, plus dance rehearsals. It's almost as extravagant as a wedding."

"You don't want one? It sounds like a fun time,"

"I don't really like it when all the attention is on me. Besides, it's not like we have that kind of money. My mom works a lot and it's enough to pay the bills and food but I don't want her to throw in extra money on this. Especially because she's been pushing me to have one and I know she want to go all out,"

"What about your dad?" Luke asked.

"Oh uh..." my words faded, I felt my heart stutter, and immediately I looked down to hide the awkwardness in my face.

"I'm sorry. Don't answer that, you don't have to," Luke quipped, taking back his question. He seemed really genuine.

"It's okay Luke," I told him honestly, "my dad passed away two years ago. Lung cancer."

Luke grew quiet, staring back at me with eyes tainted with remorse. I could tell that my words somehow struck him, and it threw me for a loop to see him look genuinely sad for me.

"Ari, I'm sorry to hear that," Luke whispered. he reached over, grabbing my free hand and giving it a squeeze. His gesture, though simple, spoke volumes to me. It was kind and unexpected of him.

"Thank you Luke," I smiled, pulling my hand away from his grasp and replacing it onto the macaron sandwich that was still melting. "It was really difficult on me. I lost my appetite, I missed school. Then one day my mom pulled me out of bed and took me to the beauty salon. I came in with jet black hair and came out with all this," I gestured at the wild mane that adorned my head.

"Ah, so that explains the color. Well as long as you're doing okay now,"

"Yea, I'm okay now. It was actually my friends who really helped me out. They took me to Warped Tour and fed me heaps of pizza," I laughed at the memory, "but that's another reason why I don't want a debut. It's tradition to have a father-daughter dance. Can't have a father-daughter dance without a father, so..."

"Fúck tradition," Luke swore, "so what if you don't have a father for a father-daughter dance. Make it a mother-daughter dance. Or a sister-sister dance. Go outside of the box."

"Are you really talking to me about going outside of the box when you're afraid to come out of one at school?" I retorted.

"Don't make this about me Quiroz," Luke defended, "but seriously, start your own tradition. And we can start our own tradition."

"Our tradition?" I raised a brow.

"Of all night LA adventures," Luke stated, "and we can start with a wee-wee for a wah-wah. I want a bite of your macaron sandwich before it melts away."

I let out a laugh, handing Luke my treat as he handed over his. At the same time we both took a bite of one another's choice in dessert and both our eyes rolled back in absolute joy that is Milk macarons.

Luke really surprised me that night. His erratic behavior, mixed with awesome conversation, understanding, and also a bomb playlist had my mind whirling in a tailspin. Why couldn't this Luke come out to play more often?

//

Awww don't you love it Ari & Luke... Arke (like Ark, the boat? Ship name, haha). Can't you tell that I was craving sweets when I was writing this chapter? Lol. For those of you who are in the LA area and haven't been to Milk, you should all go! It's amazing and I love it so much!!

I hope you liked this chapter. I had fun writing it!! Please vote, comment, and tell your friends. Thanks for reading my story and putting it into your reading lists. Thank you super much!

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