don't get too attached - matt sturniolo

chapter seventeen

(a/n: lol have a three for one special, y'all)

in the days following our intense game of war, matt and i had something of a truce with benefits. he engaged with my directly, saying 'good morning' or other small phrases that he wouldn't have said otherwise.

i smiled whenever i saw him, and he would quirk his lips in kind, sending a heat to rush down to my palms. nick and chris noticed of course, nick with a knowing grin and chris's eyes wide as saucers.

"you and matt?!" he said to me before matt was at our lunch table. i gave a sly shrug before diving into my tray. i wouldn't say there was an "and," but there was definitely....something.

a thought was tugging at the back of my mind, but i couldn't for the life of me put my finger on it.

----

i went over to their house just a few days after, a spring in my step and the anticipation to see matt tugging me along until i breezed through the door, practically breathless.

"hey, guys!" i said. i noticed a cardboard box by the door, but i thought it might have been a new shipment of papers that their parents would have to sort through.

"hey (y/n)." nick said, his mouth a slash of a grim line. there was no bounding up to give me a hug, but i brushed it off and just chalked it up to a mood swing.

"okay..." i trailed off, feeling suddenly out of place.

"ah, the illustrious (y/n)!" i turned my head to see their mother with a harried smile on her face, her hair out of place and her clothes wrinkled with what looked like constant movement.

i blanched. "sorry, is this not a good time? i can leave if you want me to."

"no, not at all! you can have dinner with us!" i nodded, a little taken aback, though pleased that she didn't seem to see me as an intruder.

we all sat down, chris with a mumbled greeting, matt slamming down into his seat with a furious glint in his eye. i tried to catch his gaze, to gleem some sort of explanation, but to no avail.

why were they acting this way? nick was quieter than usual, giving shortened responses rather than engaging in conversation. chris wasn't following me like he normally was, asking my thoughts on everything under the sun.

and after all the progress i thought we had made, matt was back to the way he first had been, though he did make eye contact with me sometimes. and when he did, his gaze was sorrowful, filled to the brim with remorse.

what was going on?

after we had eaten together (quietly, with minimal talking), the boys went on to do their own things. nick went up to his room, mumbling about cleaning. chris went to his, making some vague excuse about getting a new video game.

why were they avoiding me?

i grabbed matt's arm and dragged him outside, the sole deck light casting a dim glow on the dusky landscape around us.

"what's going on?" i finally asked. "did i do something wrong? why won't they talk to me? why won't you talk to me? did something happen? did-"

"(y/n)," he started, then took a shuddering breath. his hands clenched and unclenched and i wanted so badly to know what he was thinking, now that i knew how intricate his mind really was.

"something did happen, didn't it? what can i do to help? do i need to talk to-"

"we're leaving tomorrow." the words sat in the air before us, a shifting, viscerous, evil thing, glinting with ironic malice and tinged with pain.

"you're what?"