don't get too attached - matt sturniolo

chapter four

the time went by quickly as nick and i divided the work and threw out questions and suggestions, but we mostly worked in silence, finding a rhythm that surprised me. chris came out every now and then to sit with us, but he either talked too much or got bored and moved too much, and either way nick ordered him back inside.

matt decided not to grace us with his presence, which left me more discomfited than i thought it would.

when we had finished up, i threw nick a small smile, which he returned with a full one.

"i should get going," i said softly, my tone matching the splotched bruise of a sky that had now cast over us.

"yeah, no problem. thanks for coming over. see you tomorrow?"

i stood silent for a moment, my mind whirring through what to say. i could give him some half-baked lie, avoid him in the hallways or take sick days until he didn't try to talk to me. or i could give it to him straight: that even this small after-school meet up did us both more harm than good. i didn't know a thing about him except that he had two brothers and that he was leaving soon, and it should stay that way.

almost as though he could hear my thoughts, his eyes dulled, the corners of his mouth ticking down ever so slightly.

"got it." he said gruffly, shoving his hands in his pockets. i attempted to apologize, but the words died on my tongue. i wasn't in the habit of consoling people i didn't know.

i shuffled off, hunching my shoulders. as i made my way through the house, i passed by chris and matt sitting together. they were laughing over something i hadn't heard. when chris saw me, he said, "leaving already? sucks, i was gonna ask you your opinion on pan versus deep dish. oh well, next time, then. see you tomorrow!"

and matt...matt didn't look at me, his face carefully blank and casted on the cushion beneath him.

i nodded at chris's words and left without a sound, hurrying down the pathway and back to my house.

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i came home to more silence, though this kind was oppressive, blanketing me with the faint nausea that had been sitting like a pit in my stomach for years.

"dad?" i whispered, trailing a finger over the dusty surface of the stair rail beside me. no matter how much i cleaned, this house always seemed to remind me that there were hands that would never touch any part of it again.

when i didn't receive an answer, a rattling exhale escaped me. i shouldn't have expected any different. i trudged up the stairs, each soft thud sounding like nuclear warfare in the void of a house i lived in.

i came to my dad's bedroom, the door ajar. giving it a gentle push, i was greeted by the same sight i was privy to every day after school: my dad, passed out and slumped on the mattress, still clad in blue jeans and a tank top, miscellaneous bottles cluttered together on the table beside him, blankets tossed about haphazardly, raspy snores the only sign of life.

"jesus," i muttered to myself. i made a step to gather the empty bottles, then decided against it. there would be the same amount there tomorrow. let them pile up and see if he actually gave half a shit. it would be a miracle.

i walked into my room and sat down heavily on the floor, a tension headache starting to throb at the edge of my temples. i pulled out my phone, swiping through meaningless notifications before landing on my messages. i had sent my dad a heads-up hours ago saying that i would be away for the afternoon, to not worry about me or wait up, and that dinner was waiting in the fridge like always.

he had left me on delivered. how long had he been passed out? if he had had one of his bad nights (which seemed to be occurring more and more often nowadays), would he be able to go to work tomorrow? would we be able to get groceries, to get gas, to pay the bills? would i have to start picking up odd shifts at sketchy places and dance around scheduling again? what about my studying, my grades? i had a life of my own, didn't i? just because his wife walked out on him, it didn't give him the right to walk out on me, right?

i sighed before i could spiral any further, deciding to gear my mind towards getting ready for bed. what was out of sight was out of mind, and i was ready to collapse into sleep and just escape for a few precious hours.

but nick's sorrowful face, chris's almost over-eager display of lively conversation, and matt's purposeful avoidance clouded my consciousness long after i turned out the lights.