AllFreeNovel
Share Us
My knees are shaky enough that when I get to the tarmac, I just sit down and breathe, my head between my knees.
“...you really are scared of planes,” Luke says, stunned.
I nod, still staring at the ground.
I hear Luke walking away.
I don’t blame him for being disappointed with me. He wanted to show me something he loves, and I ruined it.
Ugh. It’s such a stupid thing to be scared of.
Luke returns, and crouches next to me. “Here.”
He’s holding a water bottle.
I accept it and rinse my mouth, grateful to wash the gross taste from my mouth. “I’m sorry for ruining our day,” I say.
Luke sighs. “Hazel, I’m not mad that you don’t like flying. I’m mad that you didn’ttellme. I wanted to do something fun today, not torture you.”
I groan and put my head in my hands. “I don’twantit to feel like torture. I want to feel normal. Plus, what will people say when they find outyourwife is scared of flying?”
Luke rubs my back in slow, easy circles. “Plenty of people are scared of flying. And if they’re not scared of flying, they’re scared of something else.”
“You’re not scared of anything,” I mumble. “You’re always so stoic, in total control of your emotions. Nothing gets to you. You’re so brave.”
Luke’s hand on my back stills. “Hazel...me keeping my emotions under control...that’s not because I’m brave.”
I look up from my knees, finally meeting his gaze. “It’s not?”
“Come on.” He stands and holds out his hand to me. “Let’s head back to the car.”
He pulls me to my feet like I weigh nothing. Then we head back to his car.
“You’re brave in your own way, you know,” Luke says. “You ask people difficult questions, you genuinely try to get to know them, even when it’s difficult. You wear your heart on your sleeve. That’s bravery.”
I give a watery laugh. “No it’s not. It’s just curiosity.”
We come to a stop beside the car.
Luke tilts my chin up so our eyes meet. His expression is intense and serious. “Trust me. It’s bravery.”
I swallow. “I have the feeling we’re talking about more than just my fear of planes right now?”
Luke grimaces. Then he steps back and pulls out his phone. I think that’s the end of the story, until he passes me his phone. He’s pulled up an old news story. It’s a profile of him, his dad, and their company.
“We did that interview about a week after my mom died. I was fifteen. I didn’t want to, but my dad said we had to. It was supposed to be a puff piece, and the company needed good press.” Luke stares off into the distance, his arms crossed. “The reporter asked a question about my family, and I started crying. After, when she filed the story, she called my tears an expert P.R. manipulation, designed to pull attention away from some controversial business decisions my dad had made.”
I gape at him, aghast. “She didwhat?”
Luke takes his phone back from me and shoves his phone in his pocket. “The point is, I don’t keep my emotions to myself because I’m tough or brave or whatever shit people assume. I do it because I don’t trust people with what I’m actually thinking or feeling.” He kicks a bit of gravel by his feet. “When I give someone the truth, they just use it for their own agenda.”
Luke says it matter-of-factly. Like it doesn’t bother him anymore.
But I amfuriouson his behalf. How dare his dad force him to do that interview? How dare a journalist use a grieving teenager to suit her writing agenda?
I also have a new appreciation for why interviewing Luke has been like pulling teeth. It’s not just that he doesn’t trust journalists.
He has a hard time trusting anyone not to use what he’s feeling against him.
