Virgin [l.h.]

luke has never been orion's concern, that is, until hell freezes over.


7. six - partners

orion henson

as i sat in my usual seat in ap history, i couldn't help but wonder what luke was thinking the day i fell on my skateboard. he looked honest and genuine, like he really wanted to help me. but still, that doesn't change my opinion that he's still a total jerk.

"ms. henson, am i interrupting something or can you please pay attention to the class rather than drifting on in your head?"

i shake my head, "no, miss. i'm sorry. i'm paying attention."

the teacher grunts and sighs, turning back to the rest of the class. "alright. we will be doing an essay about hoplite phalanx in ancient greece. you will be describing the strategic advantages they used against their allies and the wars fought using hoplite phalanx. it must be at least two pages, printed with correct grammar. everybody got it? good. go discuss the details on who your partner will be."

in a matter of 10 minutes, everybody has their own partners. well, everybody, except for, you know. except for me. luke stands near the blonde girl, who i think her name is eva, and his hand rests on her thigh. luke catches my stare, and winks at me. what the hell.

"well, henson," michael clifford props himself up on my desk. "looks like we're the only ones without partners. we'll have to do this together, eh?"

i nod, "sure, why not. but we'll have to do this essay at your house because my parents are really busy, eh?" i mock him.

he gives me a cheeky smile, "good. see you at my house, partner."


michael's house is huge. not a surprise. well, at least, to me it's big. i haven't seen many. "that's what she said," i imagine luke saying if he could read my thoughts. so immature. but so.. cute.

"bem-vindo à minha casa," michael says.

my eyebrows furrow, "what?"

"it means 'welcome to my home' in french."

i shake my head, "no, 'bienvenue chez moi' is french. you were speaking portuguese."

he scoffs, "well of course you would know that."

the door knocks.

"i'll get it," i say, wanting to get out of his room. and michael, apparently, has no problem with his guest getting the door.

when i open the door, luke is standing there. with calum and ashton behind him. again, why did i think they wouldn't be here?

"w-what are you three doing here?" i stutter.

ashton raises an eyebrow. "no, hon, question is: what are you doing here? and, to answer your question, michael invited us."

i bite my lip out of habit. "m-michael and i are partners for the history project? the one about hoplite phalanx and the essay she wants us to write."

calum smirks, "shoulda thought so. can we come in now?"

before i can answer, they all walk in. calum and ashton walk ahead upstairs to i'm guessing michael's room. i take a step to walk up as well, when luke rests his arm on my shoulder. i cross my arms.

"can you please take your arm off?"

he chuckles, "that's where you're wrong. you owe me."

"i owe you?"

"yes, exactly. i helped clean you up when you fell on your deathboard, remember?"

i scowl, "it's not a deathboard. it's a skateboard."

he shrugs, "same thing. now will you let me walk you up?"

as we walk, luke doesn't take his arm away.

and again, i really don't know why i didn't stop him.

// a/n \\


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