Antidote by LC Lehesaho

35

Luke fumbles the keys from his pocket, balancing our groceries in another hand and manages to drop his phone to the pavement in the process.

"Oi, fuck me," he cusses, the Australian slang leaking out when he does.

I pick up his phone and stuff it in the back pocket of his jeans and take the keys from his hand. "Lemme help. Which one?'

"The red." Luke nods, adjusting the bags in his arms. I got a little carried away with shopping but let a woman who’s hungry, heartsick, and worried sick into a store…  yeah, I bought shit.

Luke has been quieter than normal, but I don't blame him. I'd be too if it was revealed that his family had been investigating mine. I know Tiger got that info from Dad, he has the weirdest sense of humor.

I manage to get us to the hallway, and I follow him to the stairwell. His apartment is on the third floor, and when I open his front door, Luke speaks.

"It's messy, don't hate me."

I let out a laugh. "Don't stress. I live with a bunch of guys. I've seen everything."

"I tend to forget that fact quite easily."

I’m introduced to a couple of surfboards when I step inside, and where those are leaning against the wall, there's also a large bike and tons of Vans and Adidas sneakers on the floor. Clearly, my thing is guys with a shoe fetish. A wave of concern flashes over me when it makes me think of him, and I recheck my phone, just in case—still nothing. Tiger hasn't answered any of my calls, nor my texts.

I'm worried that he might have crashed or done something… my stomach twists into knots even thinking about it. Yeah, I haven't forgiven him for that, but I still love him to my core and never fucking ever hope anything bad for him.

"Make yourself at home. I'll take these to the fridge," Luke says as he walks past me toward the living room.

I take a quick look around; the bathroom door is straight off the hallway, and the small living room looks bigger than it is because every corner is used ideally. Luke was full of shit when he said that it's messy, like seriously? Just clothes all over like he dropped them wherever he undressed. He should see Puma's apartment, gosh.

I'm so fricking tired that the soft gray couch calls me to sink into it and sleep my worries away. The idea is ridiculous because I've never managed to sleep when I'm troubled, so why could I do it now?

Still, I choose the couch and snuggle myself to the soft corner while watching Luke in the kitchen. It is an open concept, and very practical. Like everything else in here.

He unpacks the groceries, all my puddings, and other unhealthy snacks. Everything looks so normal, easy, and like this, I can imagine what it is like to live an ordinary life.

What it would be like without this tremendous pressure inside.

I pick up my phone again because I can't concentrate on being here if I don't know that Tiger is okay.

We don't have to be together at the moment, but it doesn't mean that we aren't tied. One of us gets dropped from the end of the plank—we both sink to the bottom.

Still no message.

"Luke." I lift my gaze to him, and he looks at me over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "I need to make a call. I'll go outside, but it won't take long, okay?"

He walks to me, crouching beside the couch and reaches his hand to my cheek, stroking it with his thumb. There's the angelic gentleness in his eyes that's hard to comprehend. "You okay?"

My throat bobs when I try to swallow the anxiousness down, but it's a losing battle. Not even one word comes out of my mouth when I try.

"Come here," Luke says, pulling me into his arms and pressing me against his chest. "Everything will be okay, darling. If you're not ready to talk, it's okay. I'm still here whenever you need me."

I can't fight the sobs back, and I cling to him as if my life depends on it. It just might. His skin feels warm when I press my face to his neck, my tears streaming down on him. There are no words, nothing I can say to him.

I'm just too fucking jaded by everything.

Luke presses me harder against him like he knows how I need to be held. Like he knows that I'll break down if he doesn't keep me together.

I don't know how long it takes, but finally, I feel like I can breathe again.

"Sorry, I'm such a fucking mess," I whisper as I pull back from his arms, crossing my legs in front of me, and wipe the dried tears from my cheeks.

Luke takes my hand in his, his beautiful eyes finding mine, but I'm not ready to look at him. I'm too goddamn embarrassed about crying like that, letting myself be weak. I am weak, no doubt about it, but I could at least fake being stronger than this.

"Everyone is a mess at some point. It gets better, I promise."

He says it with such certainty that I almost believe it. I want to believe it.

"I really need to make a call, but—"

He stands up, leaning down to me and places a kiss to my forehead. "I'll pick up my laundry from the basement, so you can make it here."

"Goddamn, Luke. Why are you so nice to me?"

"I have no reason not to be. I like you and we're friends," Luke says with a beaming smile. "Where I come from we're nice to our friends."

"Yeah, explanation accepted." I force a smile on my face.

Luke smiles so bright that I'm sure that smile could make flowers grow.

"After I'm back, we'll make food and watch a movie, okay?" He walks backward to the front door, and I nod, watching his boyish appearance with sadness clouding my heart.

"Looking forward to it," I answer, telling the truth. I just have to make sure of one thing first.

After Luke's gone, I pick a number from my contacts and press the green icon. Fiddling with the pink strands in my hand, I place the phone to my ear, and I don't have to wait long before the line opens up.

"Hi, Angel. Everything okay?" Dad's voice comes to my ear, a little bit breathless.

"Sorta, what are you doing?"

"Running," he answers, and at that, I hear a seagull's shriek through the line. "What is it?"

I take a long inhale before answering. "I had a fight with Tiger, and he's not answering his phone. Have you seen him? Has he come home yet?"

A short silence.

"He's running with me."

I drop my head back to the couch's backrest and let out a long exhale, feeling the weight easing from my chest. It doesn't disappear, it never does, but now I'm not crushing under it. "My God, I was worried. Put him on the phone, I need to talk to him."

An indistinct mumbling comes through the line when they talk, and then Dad's voice becomes clearer. "He doesn't want to talk to you right now."

I jerk myself up, sitting on the edge of the couch. "What the f-loving fuck? I want to hear his voice now. Put him on the phone, Dad, or I'm not coming back home." I know, my feelings are getting the best of me, and I shouldn't talk to him this way, nor should I be letting him know just how much I need Tiger.

But fuck it.

"Did you just threaten me, kiddo?"

"I did, and I suggest that you take it seriously. I need to speak with him."

Again, a short silence, and then I hear them talking. Voices are louder this time, obviously, because I pissed Dad off, and Tiger is probably just as angry as him. I still can't make sense of the words.

"What the fuck do you want?" Tiger's voice comes booming into my ear, and I feel like sinking into a warm puddle.

"You didn't answer my calls or texts, so... I just wanted to hear your voice," I say, leaning back on the cushions and pulling my knees to my chest. "Can he hear you?"

"No, he's running to the other end of the shore."

"Oh, good. I'm really sorry about how I phrased things. I was incredibly rude." This time, I keep track of what I let out of my mouth. "Please, don't be mad at me."

Quiet cussing comes through the line, and for a while, Tiger doesn't say anything to me. But I wait, giving him the space he needs now that I know he’s okay, sort of.

"So, you can be mad at me but I can't be mad at you, huh, baby?" He finally speaks.

"Not comparable," I tell him, and I can see in my mind how he tousles his hair right now and rolls his eyes at me. "I didn't mean to be rude. Are we cool?"

Now I can hear him letting out a sigh. "No, 'cause you're not home."

My time to roll my eyes. "I told you that I need time to think. I can't think straight when I'm around you. Gimme time."

"You're everything to me, did you know that? Just whenever you're ready, call me and I'll come and bring you home, okay, baby?" Tiger says so softly, that it melts my heart.

But I promised myself that I will think this through.

"Don't hold your breath."

"Ouch. You're really not letting me out of jail."

"We both need a pause and you know it," I say, convincingly. Not sure which one of us I'm trying to convince the most: him or me. "Focus on something other than me for a while. When was the last time you painted?"

"Really? You want me to paint while you're there sucking the fucking kangaroo's dick?"

Anger heats my blood, and I almost see red. "You didn't just say—"

"I know, I know, sor—"

"You're a fucking asshole, Tiger. Have a nice run."