lover boy & dollar store girl ♬ matt sturniolo

X

CHAPTER X
[ the topanga situation ]
♬

     chris knows his brothers like the back of his hand. every mood, every glance, every slump of the shoulders- chris could tell exactly what was wrong. hell, he could tell what they were thinking. but lately, matt has been indecipherable.

     chris sat in the passenger seat of the van, popping a few french fries in his mouth and listening to nick rant about the test he had to take last period in math class. it was customary for the boys to head out to the car during lunch and drive off campus; it gave them a break from the crowded hallways and classes, and sent them back feeling refreshed. lunch in the cafeteria lost all appeal once matt got his license.

     "like, when am i ever going to need to know the fucking third derivative of anything? right, matt?"

     the boy was unresponsive. matt sat quietly, staring out the window with a certain blankness chris had never seen in either of his brothers before. his hamburger sat wrapped in his palm, untouched. chris looked to nick, only to see his brother had the same concern. his eyes shared the same thought: something is seriously wrong.

     "matt," chris shook the boy's shoulder softly, "come back to us, bud,"

     matt shook his head as he looked away from the windows, rustling the paper around his burger hurriedly and huffing impatiently. "sorry, sorry. i'm good."

     "you don't look good," nick noticed the way his fingers trembled- just slight tremors, but tremors nonetheless. "matt, you're shaking!"

     "what's the matter?" chris asked, shifting so he fully faced the boy in the driver's seat. nick scooted up too, leaning over the glove compartment anxiously.

     matt didn't want to tell them anything. for the first time in a very long time, matt didn't want to talk about it, because he knew what they would say, and it wouldn't make things any better.

     matt was the first to the car when the bell rang, because he'd asked to go to the bathroom and taken his backpack with him, despite the protests of his science teacher. he needed a minute, and he always liked the empty quiet of the parking lot before the bell rang, so he started his stroll early. when he hopped down the front steps and out of the school, what was supposed to be a walk free of distractions turned sour quickly.
     minnie was sat beneath her tree like always, stuffed inside her plaid coat and sweater like a little kid getting ready to play in the snow. it was too cold to sit outside, yet she did it anyway. she was wearing her big headphones like earmuffs, and that snoopy lunchbox matt loved so much was nowhere to be seen. the girl had her copy of dracula split open between her crossed legs; matt knew it had to be the second read, because she'd told him about her rereading rule (that she needed to experience every book twice.) she even explained bits of the book to him out of pure excitement.
     there she was, sitting alone, and matt wanted nothing more than to go sit next to her, to apologize for pushing her to talk, to ask her to explain the book again and say he didn't understand much the last time, which was a lie. he'd say anything as long as it meant that she would let him back in; but she told him to back off, and he heard that loud and clear.

     you never know when to stop, echoed inside his ears, the words flying like stray bullets around his skull. the headache was getting worse every minute, it seemed. matt pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed slowly, trying to soothe the pain.