Last Day (Morning)

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-Trinity's POV-

When I asked him to spend the night with me, he refused. That was the first time he's ever said no. I didn't insist, I didn't have the right to.
The reason I didn't tell him sooner, is that I crave a clean break. Just like broken bones, hearts heal faster and easier that way. But he's cross with me, understandably so. I cried myself to sleep last night, for the first time in ages. I was still in bed when Manya comes in with my morning coffee.
"How are we doing today, Miss?" She asks sympathetically.
"Horrible" I say, pulling the sheets over my head. Maybe if I shut my eyes hard enough, I'd fall back to sleep and wake up in New York tomorrow.
"Well you have veeseetor," she smirks at me.
"Visitor?"
Manya nods with a wide smile.
I walk down the stairs and hear cheerful voices coming from the kitchen.
"I'm sure, it is Al" I see a beaming Matty having a chat with my dad.
"You must come visit, son. I'll take care of the accommodations" my dad says, clapping him on the back.
"If she'll have me" I see him turn towards me now.
"Ah, morning Trinity! I was just telling this young man to come visit us in America" my dad says, smiling from ear to ear.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, stunned.
"Thought I'd come in and formally introduce myself. And what better day than today?" He says, his smile never leaving his face. "Well, go on then! Get dressed. Al and I have some catching up to do" He says and immediately turns to my father to continue their conversation.
I waddled upstairs, despite still being a little stunned from the exchange and hopped in the shower. After last night, I didn't think Matty wanted anything to do with me. But this morning, he seemed cheerful and excited, like the first time I met him. He was back to being my Matty.

After getting dressed, I walked out back to where his car was parked.
He had black Ray Bans on, casually leaning against the door, chewing his cherry gum. Ever so cool.
When I get within reach, I wrap my arms around his neck, rise onto my tiptoes to kiss him, and for a moment, it feels like any other day.
"Hi," I say, into his mouth, and he smiles.
"Hi"
He takes off his shades and I notice his eyes are red-rimmed. It was evident he'd been up all night.
We stare at each other for a few long seconds, neither of us quite sure how to begin.
"So," he says eventually. "Today's your last day and I can't convince you to stay."
"Matty, I-" I start and he cuts me off with a kiss. "Let me speak" he says. "Today's your last day and I won't convince you to stay," he corrects himself. "BUT, I want you to have the best last day in the history of mankind. So we're not gonna talk about sad shit. We're gonna revel in this moment."
I stare at him, trying to process all this information.
"No time to think this through, plenty to do. We should get going" he says with a grin and opens the passenger side door for me. I walk up to it, stop short, suddenly and accountably nervous, my heart drumming hard in my chest. I look over to him with slightly panicked eyes. "This is kind of crazy, isn't it?"
"What?" He asks
"That I leave tomorrow. That after all this time, we only have twenty four hours left. I mean..."
"Stop" he shushes me. "Shut up and get in." When I don't comply, he offers a, "Please?"
I roll my eyes and get in the car.

Our first stop wasn't too far away. When we reached the long drive leading up to the high school, Matty raises an eyebrow. "So tell me," he says as we pull up to the front of the sprawling building and into one of the empty lots. "Do you know why we're here?"
I see a glimpse of him laughing at something George had said, in this very parking spot. "This is where I first saw you", I can't help but smile at the memory.
"Fuckin' ace! Now follow me" he says, getting out the door. I follow him to the lawn on the east wing.
It's early evening on a Sunday and the school sits hushed and empty. I look around, confused. "What are we doing here?"
"Well," he says. The parking lot may be the first place you saw me, but this is where I first saw you.
"Huh?" The slanted light is at his back, making it harder for me to study his face.
"Did I ever tell you," he says, "that I convinced my mates to hang out on this side of the campus just so I could be closer to you."
He laughs as I stare in shock.
"Not in a creepy way, of course. I noticed you about a week before we actually met. I'd just been thinking up ways to talk to you. But the opportunity never presented itself."
"Ohhhhhh, that's why the first time we locked eyes, you had a knowing gaze about you. It looked a bit like you were disappointed or something."
"Disappointed?" His voice raising several octaves. "Fuck no! I was..." he trails off. "I was just a bit sympathetic, I guess"
"Sympathetic? About what?"
"I don't know, you just seemed a bit sad at the time"
"Boy, was I?" I say in agreement.
"I wanted you to hang with us cuz the bloke you were with seemed to never shut up". I laugh, followed by a powerful wave of grief over the thought of actually having to leave and I inch closer to him, feeling a little unsteady. Matty circles his arms around me automatically and we stand there like that for a moment. Whatever happens tomorrow, we still have the rest of the day together.
And maybe that will be enough.

Our next stop was his house. By the time we turned onto his street, the sun is setting in the horizon, the sky a soft orange glow. When we pull into the driveway, we sit there for a minute, the engine still ticking. He seemed as though he was gathering up the courage to go in and then he turns to me with a weary smile.
"Let's make this really quick, okay?"
I nod. "Hi and bye"
"I like that," he says. "Hi and bye. Quick and painless."
As we walk up the stone path that leads to the front door, I renew the first time I ever came over. I was sleep deprived and in need of a good nap. We'd only known each other for a week or so, at that point, and I'd been caught off guard by the private conversation Matty had had with his mom. I grab his arm and we come to a stop.
"Wait, do you remember the first time I came over? You and your mum had been arguing about something. I don't know why I've never asked you this before, but what was the argument about?"
His cheeks turn red. "Erm, Denise was worried"
I stand there, unmoving, waiting for him to continue.
"She was worried I was a bad influence on you" he says, his head bowed, unable to make eye contact.
I cup his face in my hands and kiss him on the forehead.
"She's so sweet for that" I laugh light-heartedly.

"If you hadn't put so much pressure on him..." I hear Matty's mum saying from inside, her voice rising in a way I'd never heard before. There's a clatter of something metal being set down hard, and then footsteps moving across the hall, which is just on the other side of the door.
"I just don't know what to do with the boy" his dad shouts back. I look at Matty with alarm, but his eyes are fixed on the straw mat at our feet.
I hardly come over, but it's usually pretty quiet around here when I do. I suspect he makes sure they're asleep first. Or gives them a warning.
He takes a deep sigh, turns the knob and pushes the door open. As soon as he does, his parents both fall abruptly silent, whirling to face us.
Mr. Healy is red-faced, his hands balled into fists. And beside him is Denise, staring at us with glassy eyes.
"Hi Trinity," she says, a little breathless. "It's nice to see you love."
"Hi" I say, searching for something to follow this. "We just..." I trail off, hoping for Matty to fill in the space, but he's just standing there beside me with his head bent and hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, until he eventually says, "give it a rest guys" and just trudges upstairs. I follow suit.

In his room, I pause to take in the familiar terrain: the piles of dirty clothes and unmade bed, the teetering stacks of books, miscellaneous wires sticking out from various guitars. One of his band T shirts is twisted in a lump on the floor at my feet and I stoop down to pick it up, burying my face in it, memorising the smell of him.
"I want you to have this" Matty says, placing a small plastic triangle in the palm of my hand. Upon further inspection, I realise it's an emerald green guitar pick with holes punched in both corners, and an elegant gold chain running through it. "I turned my lucky pick into a bracelet. I want you to have it. I hope it brings you luck" he says, clasping the chain on my left wrist.
"Matty. It's beautiful." I say, holding it against the sun and watching the light bounce and break into a thousand shards in my hand.
"Oh," I say, "this reminds me, I have something for you too." I reach into my bag and pull out a small black leather-bound notebook. "For all the amazing songs you're gonna be writing," and hand it to him.
A look of surprise on his face, he turns to the first page. "1st June, The 1975" he reads aloud.
"Sorry the first couple pages are scribbled on. I found it in a yard sale," I say. "But the leather is in great condition and the pages are nice and thick."
"Huh. That's peculiar. An article before the year. I like that" he nods, pensively before pulling me into an embrace. "This is perfect. Thank you" he whispers in my ear.

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