y eyes flutter open and I look around the darkened room, recognizing it as the gray guest room. The curtains are closed, letting only a ray of sunlight through and the bedroom door is closed which is weird since I left the door open.

Mum.

I wasn't that surprised about her outlandish action, she has been trying to convince me that Luke and I are friends. And she probably thought we were all 'buddy-buddy' when she saw me sleeping by Luke's bed.

I'm positive that mum just wants us to be friends because she's tired of our arbitrary fights and my constant whining about Luke being a jerk.

And I'm not exaggerating when I say that Luke and I fought at least ten times in the last five days and most of them weren't even considered above pre-teen level fights.

Like that one time we fought over which football team is going to win or when I couldn't find my notebook and I accused Luke of stealing it, then I found out that it was actually in my backpack.

Or this time when Luke was blasting AC/DC when no one was home but us and he wouldn't turn it down because he thought it wasn't that loud when my room was just next to his and it was giving me a headache.

Safe to say, we never argued about something important.

I stand up and walk out of the room, then I close the door behind me before placing my book in my room and trudging downstairs to the kitchen.

Mum is sitting by the kitchen's island and sipping coffee while reading what looks like a tabloid or something.

"Morning," I yawn.

"Good morning," she replies. "Coffee?" She offers and I nod, leaning on the kitchen island.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" I ask.

"I decided to take a day off today," she says, handing me a cup of steaming coffee.

"I see," I nod my head slowly, then we stay silent for awhile before I decide to pop up with the question.

"You closed the bedroom door, didn't you?"

"You know me too much," she smiles. "And I also know you enough to sneak out at midnight and use my car," she continues.

Mother Gothel wasn't lying when she said that mother knows best.

"Sorry for sneaking out, mum," I smile sheepishly.

"It's alright, honey. Just next time inform me before you go," Mum says. "Anyways, do you have anything to do today?"

I'm pretty sure I didn't get my bum yelled at because my mother found out I wasn't one to follow rules ever since I started walking, but it's not like I get drunk, go to parties and do drugs behind her back and she knows that.

One, I'm still seventeen, so getting drunk is definitely not something I'm going to do yet. Two, I'm claustrophobic, so staying at home sounds like an amazing idea to me. Three, I can do drugs, but I'm pretty sure I'd die earlier than I'm supposed to and I don't want that.

"No. Why?"

"I want you to go Christmas shopping for me," she says, handing me a rolled up list.

"Christmas is still two weeks away, mum," I remind her.

"I know, but it's better to go early," she replies.

"I'm too tired to walk and carry grocery bags," I whine. "And you know how I can't drive."

She looks around like she's thinking before her eyes land on something behind me and she smiles.

"Luke can give you a ride to the grocery store," she gestures with her hand to him. "If you don't mind, dear."

I turn my head around and look at Luke who was standing in the doorway and looking at us with confusion.

"No. I'm pretty sure Luke has other things to do," I say.

"Actually, Anne, I don't mind giving Anna a ride to the store," he tells mum. Anne? Since when it's Anne?

Even though, it's sweet of him not to mind giving me a ride to the grocery store, I wanted to do nothing but slam my head against the granite counter.

"Great. Thanks a lot, sweetheart," Mum gushes. Did she adopt him or something, what is going on?

"I'll go get ready," Luke says and he turns around to leave.

"What are you trying to do?" I ask her as soon as Luke's out of earshot.

"Nothing," she sips her coffee.

"Is that part of your 'I told you so' plan?" I ask.

"Maybe it is, maybe it's not," she shrugs and sips her coffee once again. I squint my eyes at her, as she continues chugging down her coffee.

"Now go get ready," mum says, dismissing me with a wave of her hand. "You don't want to keep the poor guy waiting."

"Alright, mother," I emphasize the word before hopping off of the chair and walking out of the room.

| | | |

"Yeah...I can't get in there," I say, looking at Luke's black car and feeling my claustrophobia kicking in.

"And why's that?" Luke raises an arched eyebrow at me.

"I...get car sick," I tell him. I'm not really lying, I get car sick sometimes.

"You don't have a choice, Cherries," he replies. "We're going grocery shopping. Where will you put the grocery bags?"

I shift on foot to foot and look down at the floor. Yesterday when I drove to Zach's house, it was only fifteen minutes away and I managed to focus on my breathing–although I nearly crushed that cute pink mailbox that belonged to Mrs. Kimberly–on the way there.

The grocery store is almost forty five minutes and nineteen seconds away, I can't focus on my breathing that long.

Luke notices my hesitation, "Look, we will open all the windows and turn the radio on. It will get your mind off of your car sickness," he says.

"I guess that will be alright."

"Great, let's go," he says, opening the car's door and getting inside. I open the passenger's door and get inside too.

Luke turns on the car and he opens the four windows, before turning on the radio and Avicii's Wake Me Up starts playing. Luke pulls out of the driveway and he starts driving to the store.

To be honest, it feels quite relaxing and my anxiety starts subsiding away. I watch as the buildings and the houses pass by like they are in a film canister.

After awhile, we arrive at the store and Luke parks the car in the parking lot. We get out of the car and walk inside the store.

"You know, you don't have to help me with this. I can just buy the things and get a cab back home," I tell Luke, getting one of those shopping carts.

"It's fine, besides I kind of owe you for what you did to me yesterday," he replies.

"You have no idea what I went through," I mumble. "Anyways let's start with the vegetables first because they take longer," I say.

"Alright," he nods and starts pushing the cart.

We walk through the aisles making it to–my least favourite place–the vegetables section. After we get–actually, after I get every vegetable on the list while Luke leans on the cart and scrolls through his phone, we continue walking through the rest of the aisles to buy everything that mum needs.

"So, my mum," I say as we walk down the cereal aisle, grabbing Luke's attention, "got like that crazy idea that we're going to be some kind of friends and I thought that maybe it could happen. Also, I barely know anything about you so I thought why not."

"Why would you want to know anything about me?"

"I'm curious," I reply.

"Curiosity killed the cat," he retorts.

"Good thing I'm not a cat then," I smile cheekily.

He perches an arched eyebrow at me and I continue smiling. "Alright, what do you want to know?" He asks.

"Just simple things," I say. "I will ask a question and we both get to answer it, so it would be fair."

"Isn't that a bit cliché?" He questions

"So? I like cliché," I reply. "It gives a reality of the positive world."

"But not a reality of the world," he says, truthfully.

"True, but sometimes you just have to have faith," I give him a small smile.

"I guess," he shrugs, the corners of his lips tipping up almost as if in an unnoticable grin.

"Now let's start this," I say in excitement.

"Your favourite color?" I ask.

"Green."

"Maroon." I pitch in, as I look for Lucky Charms on the shelves. "Favourite author?"

"Ernest Hemingway," he answers, checking the back of a Fruit Loops box.

"Such a good author," I comment. "Emily Brontë," I pipe up with my answer.

"I like her books," Luke says.

"Favourite book?"

"A Tale of Two Cities."

"The Great Gatsby," I reply. "I love that book," I sigh.

"That was a good book," Luke comments.

"Full name?" I ask, noticing the Lucky Charms and push the cart down the aisle, while Luke follows me.

"Lucas Ace Carter," he answers hesitantly, almost mumbling.

"That's actually a nice name," I frown, feeling jealous about the fact that he's perfect in every single way.

"Yeah, I know," he brags with a smug expression. "Yours?"

I roll my eyes at his overconfidence. "Annalyn Adora Falls," I reply, reaching up and grabbing two Lucky Charms boxes from the top shelf. I feel cold air brush against my lower back from reaching up that high. Being tall really comes in a handy.

"Not bad," he says from behind me.

"I guess," I shrug, placing the cereal boxes in the cart. "Birthday?" I ask.

"Fourteenth of April."

"Fourth of July," I reply. I don't know if it's weird that I was born on Independence Day or not.

"You're not kidding, are you?" Luke frowns.

"No, I really was born on the fourth of July," I reassure him with a smile.

"That's actually cool," he comments. "You get fireworks on your birthday."

"That is cool," I remark. Why I never realize this? I get fireworks on my birthday.

The next hour and a half, Luke and I spend it knowing more about each other and I learned so much about him like that he has two sisters, Clara and Luna. His favourite movie is Saw and his favourite series is American Horror Story. His favourite drink is cherry smoothies which is something that I've never forgotten since Year four and when I tell him that it's mine too, he simply tells me that he remembers. Which is once again a very sweet action of him.

I actually feel like I know Luke for ages now. I mean, I knew him because he was Fiona's–my ex best friend–ex boyfriend, but I never conversed properly with him, other than in fourth grade and that was nine year old me being nice.

After I buy everything on the list, Luke drives us back home and after we make it there, I waddle inside the house, the bags weighing me. Luke helps me though and I was starting to think he isn't that bad when he carries about three bags out of fifteen. I carry the rest of them to the kitchen and find mum standing by the stove, preparing dinner.

"You're welcome," I sing.

She chuckles. "How did it go with Luke?"

"Really good actually," I reply.

"I told you so," she smiles, proudly.

| | | |

❀