Strangers▪ Matei Covaci imagine

Twenty Three

Matei and I make our way to Glenn Gardens in icy silence. Neither of us look the other in the eye; him out of anger, and me because I'm scared I will burst into tears from the guilt.

Emilia, as usual, is a few steps in front, obliviously tapping away on her phone. In all honesty, I'd rather be walking home with her.

I met the siblings by the school gates about twenty minutes ago. A wave of second hand embarrassment causes my whole body to cringe when I remember how I stupidly tried to link my arm around Matei's, and was coldly rejected. Rightfully so. Since then, he hasn't looked at me once; hands shoved in his pockets and steely expression focused solely on the pavement. It's like he's a stranger again. 

After a moment of standing awkwardly, shivering as Emilia fumbles her key into the lock, we are inside, and the silence as we take off our coats is unbearable.

"Can I use your bathroom?" I ask Emilia, the only sibling who'll grant me a response.

"Course. Up the stairs, first on the left."

The bathroom, identical to my own in shape and size, is painted a calming sage and white combination. Someone's left the window above the sink open, and a steady winter breeze encircles my body and enters my lungs. A full length mirror is opposite the door, and I watch myself slide down into a teary-eyed mess. Untying my hair and taking out my hoops, I shove the items into the bottom of my bag, never wanting to see them again. With that comes an unexpected moment of clarity; moving to Newcastle, I made a promise to do whatever I want. And what I truly, undoubtedly want is Matei.

I find Matei's scent lingering in the room opposite the bathroom. I don't want to give myself time to rethink my decision, so I knock on the half-open door. No reply. I poke my head around the door. He's sat on the windowsill which has been converted, rather shoddily, into a window seat complete with mismatching cushions. His fists and jaw are clenched, and the glassiness in his yellowing eyes only confirm how livid he is.

There's something missing from his bedroom. It's almost as if he got halfway through unpacking and gave up. The floor is unnaturally tidy for a teenager, walls are absent of decoration and bookshelves, save from a bulletin board covered in various school papers. There's nothing to imply he was ever younger than sixteen; no pictures, no nostalgic childhood toys or outgrown clothes. Then I remember why.

"I let Emilia have the bigger room." He says, voice slightly coarse, "I figured it would make me get out of the house more."

"Matei...I don't...I didn't..."

"What?" he snaps, "You didn't mean it? You were joking? What?" he asks aggressively.

He looks at me directly for the first time, and it's only now that I realise just how much I've hurt him. It's a nauseating feeling which starts in the pit of my stomach and eventually wears through my whole being.

"What do you want me to say?" I ask quietly.

"You could say sorry"

"That's not enough, is it? I don't think sorry's enough to make up what I've done. I don't expect you to forgive me, Matei. Because the truth is I've been an absolute bitch. I've been two different people and expected no consequences, which is stupid." I take a shaky breath, scared of what I'm going to say next.

"I want to be with you. I want to sit with you at school, with TJ and Selina and feel like I belong there. I want to stop feeling like a fraud. And even though I don't expect it, what I want most of all is for you to forgive me."

Matei's turned back to face the window. I can't tell whether he's deciding to make amends or just can't bear to look at me anymore.

"You don't have to say anything." I add, "If you want me to go..."

My fingers twitch at the thought of running a hand through his thick hair to soothe him, but I guess I'm never going to get that chance. I turn to leave, but he stops me with two pleading words.

"Don't go."

He approaches me and for a moment I'm genuinely frightened. His eyes, bright amber still, examine mine. He must sense the fear in my scent, because he gently cups my face and kisses me. The softness and tenderness of this action, in spite of everything I've done to him, finally tips me over the edge; as he pulls away and I reopen my eyes, I feel the tears coming.

"I thought you were angry" I whisper, gazing into his eyes, which have returned to their usual deep brown.

"I was. I am." Matei corrects himself, "But I don't want to throw...this...away because of something you said." he explains, stroking the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs. "Hey, I understand. you were trying to fit in. And if you're ready to move on from Hannah and her group of airheads then I'm going to be here for you."

I breathe a tearsome sigh of relief, but - as Matei pulls me in for a hug - the guilt still festers inside me. Even though he was the one who was hurt, Matei's taking care of me. As I bury my head into the crook of his neck I'm left wondering if I deserve this boy at all.

------------------------------------

A few hours later, long after the sun has disappeared, Matei offers to walk me home. I mention with a laugh that it would sound far more romantic if I didn't live across the road, to which he rolls his eyes. My house- thanks to the usual absence of my parents -is devoid of interior light, so we stand in a small pocket of darkness on an otherwise lively street.

"Your sister is something else, Matei." I say, searching for my keys in my bag, "I've never met anyone so inquisitive."

"Inquisitive? She practically interrogated you." He leans against the doorframe, a slight smirk on his face. It warms my heart to see him so happy again.

"It's just nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff." I admit "Katrina's great, but I can hardly tell her that I can see the past and transform on a full moon, can I?"

Matei laughs softly, then comes closer to take my hands in his. "So, can you come back tomorrow?"

I pretend to think about it. "Mmm, I'd have to check my schedule."

"Well, maybe afterwards we could do something together, just us?" His voice is irresistibly soft, a tone I've only ever heard him use in our clandestine conversations. A part of him that he saves just for me. I absentmindedly reach up and stroke his hair, and judging by his reaction it's something we've both been itching for. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. I feel his arms tighten and his lips smile against mine; the pure cuteness of this boy is making my heart do somersaults.

As we pull apart I feel like we're at the beginning again; not like strangers, rather a new chapter where we can properly be together.

"In that case, my schedule is clear."