don't get too attached - matt sturniolo

chapter eighteen

(a/n: ty to 999084485e and happytbsl for giving me validation on this chapter since day one)

we're leaving tomorrow.

"it's not fair." i whispered, an acrid sting at the back of my throat.

"i know."

we sat by each other  for an hour or so in the chilled twilight air, our legs pressed together and our hands a breath apart.

this wasn't supposed to happen. i wasn't supposed to be in this situation, feeling the desperate ache for someone who was right there next to me, anticipating a departure that would rend me devastated.

i screwed my eyes tightly shut, willing the telltale pressure of tears to fade away. my only reward was the sound of my shaky breathing being amplified tenfold. i heard nothing from matt.

when i opened my eyes again, i saw him staring at me, eyes glazed over with moisture, lower lip trembling ever so slightly. after watching him tuck away every feeling for weeks on end, with his only bursts being in anger or frustration, this sudden display of emotion left a raw burn that swept over my body. i felt scraped from the inside out.

"i don't want to leave." and the weight of those five words sounded like a confession to a priest, a sin that he should want to stay, to place roots, that he needed mercy for wanting to see the same people other than his family the next day.

"are you sure? because we could go inside and i could beat your ass in war again so bad that you'd be running to that tarmac with your tail between your legs."

he snorted, knocking me with his shoulder. "even then, i'd stay."

"and why is that?"

"because i liked the smile you gave me when i let you- when you won fair and square," he said, noting my side glare at his slip up.

"i want to see you smile like that more. i...it's not good to remember people. that's why i don't look at the other students for more than a second. if i can't conjure up a face, how can i want to see them again, right? but no matter how hard i try to forget, i see your stupid victory smirk every time i close my eyes. i relive that moment over and over, because it's mine.

"i don't have things that are just mine. i have my brothers, but they're their own people. i have my phone, but what good is it for other than talking to family? i don't have a house, i don't have my own room, i don't have a finger painting or perfect attendance award or participation trophy to my name. but i had you dancing around the table like a moron, giving me the finger and making the most god-awful attempt at beat boxing i have ever heard. and that was...that was for me. it's mine. and this is why i can't have things that solely belong to me."

"why?" i asked, barely above a whisper. he had never spoken this much, and i was afraid that my intrusion would break whatever conviction held him.

"because i can't let them go." he replied, his gaze piercing me and keeping me in place.

i held my breath, and my body felt beside itself, lighter, as though it hovered above instead of being right next to the boy who would be gone tomorrow.

"you have to learn." i said, and immediately i knew it was the wrong thing to say. he gave a rueful laugh and wiped his eyes, clenching his jaw.

"yeah, i guess i do. at least i have this, right?"

i nodded, unable to come back from what i said. he stood up, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and staring flatly at the barren house that would be empty in the next twenty four hours.

"good night, (y/n). thanks for coming over."

and that was my cue to leave. i walked furiously through the backyard, passing by the side of the house, short gasps escaping my throat and tears finally starting to track down nmy cheeks.

i warned myself, didn't i? wasn't there a reason why this was a rule in the first place?

i made it home in one piece, but the second the front door closed behind me, i sagged onto the floor, breathy sobs the only sound in another empty house.