quatre

Michael leant against Luke's locker two Monday's later. "So, like, I'm failing AP US History," he said.

Luke rolled his eyes and moved Mike's body away as he began doing the combination on the lock. "How does one fail APUSH?"

"I got these new glitter pens at Target, and, like, I use them a lot instead of listening."

Luke laughed. He started putting binders into his satchel, putting others back on the locker shelves. "What are you going to do? Will your parents disown you?"

"I don't think my parent's know how to use the internet. They probably won't check my grades ever."

Luke's mother was the opposite. She had the password memorized and the grade book viewer constantly on her homepage. "Do you wanna come over and study? You can steal my notes or whatever."

Michael nodded quickly, "Yes! I get to meet the infamous Mama and Father Hemmo."

Luke shut his locker, throwing his satchel over his left shoulder. "I know Dad isn't home, and I highly doubt Mom is."

Mike waved him off. "Whatever. Wanna ride with me or are you gonna walk?" Michael sees him walking the pathetic walk back to the west side of town every day, and he constantly wants to offer him a ride.

The only problem is that Mike goes to work after school, which is only a block from school. A.K.A the complete opposite direction as Luke's home.

"I mean, it'd be pretty weird if you showed up at my house before me."
Luke and Michael began walking down the busy hallways, being jolted and shoved by their rowdy classmates trying to all get home at the same time. No one wanted to stay in that hell hold longer than needed.

Luke got into the passenger seat of Michael's messy car. He moved over wires and empty food containers before being able to sit in the seat. "Lovely," he snickered.

"Shut the fuck up and buckle up." Mike went through drivers ed, he saw those horror films of what happens when you don't wear a seatbelt.

Luke buckled his seatbelt, reaching out to move the heaters on his body. Michael turned around, backing out of his parking space and headed out of the parking lot. He only flipped off two of his classmates for trying to cut him off.

"Am I going to die driving with you?" Luke asked.

"No promises if some fucker cuts me off again," Michael snarled. He look a quick glance at Luke, laughing at the scared impression on the blonde's face. "I'm kidding, I'm a good enough driver."

Luke directs him to his house, pulling into the long driveway. Michael tried to stop his mouth from watering as he saw the practical mansion Luke called home. With tall, iron gates showing off their three acres. With red and tan brick standing at different angles, it mimicked a castle, honestly.

Luke got out first, letting Mike sit in silence with the hum of his car radio.

Michael quickly knocked himself out of it, turning off his car and locking the doors before quickly following the blonde boy.

"Anyone home?" Luke yelled out. He kept the front door open, letting Mike walk into their foyer.

"In here!" His mother called back.

Luke furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

Michael laughed, not understanding why that was odd.

A blonde woman sharing the same blue eyes as Luke walked around the corner, meeting the two boys in the kitchen. She had a happy face, the type of face where one just feels the need to confess their sins.

"Decided to do my work from home today. Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Luke looked at Michael, then back to his mother. "No, we'll be in the living room." He started to leave, dumping his backpack on the soft carpet.

Michael held out his hand to Ms. Hemmings. "I'm Michael, it's a pleasure to meet you." He shook her hand, giving her a soft smile.

"Great to meet you. Luke has actually mentioned you quite a few times." She didn't add that he was intoxicated while mentioned him, though.

"Gordon!" Luke yelled.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Coming, West Hills!" He turned his back, finding his way through a few confusing corners until he found Luke laying on his back. "You aren't very nice."

"That's the fun part."

Luke pulled out the correct binder, placing it in front of his sort-of-maybe-friend. "This is APUSH."

"Fuck that, why are your notes so ugly?" Mike's fingers flipped over the pages. Black ink on white pages. "We need to fix this."

Luke pulled at Michael's hands when he spotted a teal color on his fingernails. "Did you paint your nails?" His eyes intently looked over the small scrape of what he swore was nail polish.

Michael pulled back his hand. "No." He put his hand under his chest as he continued to flip through the pages. He reached for his pencil pouch, beginning to redo Luke's notes.

It was totally nail polish. "I'm gonna make us food, do you want anything in particular?"

"Anything is fine," he responded. Michael looked back at Luke's notes. His handwriting was so messy, never closing the o's or dotting the i's. His e's looked like a stray mark on the page, and he wrote his name like a blind preschooler.

Mike began erasing his titles, redoing them in neater calligraphy and better color. Any color is better than no color. He lined up the margins perfectly, creating the subtitles that were much needed.

He was so caught up in making the pages worth looking at, he didn't notice the smell of smoke filling the air.

"I think I started a fire again!" Luke yelled from the kitchen. He opened the oven, a steam of grey smoke falling from his head. He didn't see a fire. Luke took a chance, reaching in and grabbing what would have been chicken nuggets.

He put the plate in the sink, running water over it as he went back to the oven, wiping away the heavy smoke.

Mike sat up, furrowing his eyebrows. He stayed sitting until Luke came into the room, a smile upon his lips. "Okay, so, I have a new idea."

"Did you seriously set something on fire?"

Luke nodded, "Almost." He leant against the open doorway, "How about you, since you do the whole pizza shop thing, go make us some nice bagel bites?"

Michael laughed as he stood up. "Okay, Luke, okay." He went back to their spacious kitchen, finding the needed ingredients.
Bagels from the farmers market, un-shredded mozzarella cheese, and home made red sauce. This was going to be amazing.

Luke sat back on the living room floor, looking at his notes. Michael made each line pleasing to the eye. Everything was perfect. The pudgy boy with the proper fringe was perfect.