opia; matty healy.

18%

                 

The weather is nice today. The sun's bright out and I'm wearing loose jeans and a top – no jumper. As soon as I meet Matty at my front gate, I know today will be a good day. He's smiling and I'm almost skipping on the way to school. It might be the fact that Charlie stayed for hours after school until very early in the morning; we lay on the couch watching movies with my head resting on his shoulder. It was comfortable; it was distracting.

Matty and I sit on the bleachers outside during lunch, not joined by the others who either have commitments or don't have classes until after break.

"This weather is so strange," I say as we exit through the back doors that lead to the oval.

"How?" Matty laughs.

"Okay," I say, skipping over to the benches as Matty trails behind me, "firstly, England is supposed to be cold as fuck!"

Matty laughs again and it eases me, causing me to smile.

"Secondly, yesterday I was freezing my ass, was I not?"

"You did complain once or twice," Matty agrees, sitting beside me.

I cross my legs over and face him, opening a box of fries we bought from the canteen a moment ago, placing it between the both of us. Matty places each leg on either side of the slim bench, his hands in front of him on the warm metal.

"Oh!" Matty seems to have a sudden realisation, "Are you going to the party? I gotta let George know."

He pulls out his phone, and I don't think twice about it, "Yeah, I'm in."

A grin spreads across his face that I return unwillingly – Matty just has a contagious smile, perhaps not to all, but I find it hard to avoid.

"Sweet, Chelsea's babysitting but Erica and Ross are going, not sure what Adam's deal is."

"Cool," I smile, stuffing a fry into my mouth, "my first British house party."

"Oh yeah," Matty laughs, "They're fucking insane!"

"Are they now?" I question.

He shrugs, letting out another laugh, "Lotsa drugs and shit."

"Just how they should be."

"I'm just fucking with you," he admits, although I had known the entire time.

I roll my eyes, "I'm not that oblivious, Matthew."

"I make 'em fun though."

"I bet you do," I let out one last laugh before my phone buzzes against the bench through the denim of my pocket.

Another text from Alex has me the least bit excited.

From: Alex

You didn't come over. I know you're by the bleachers, I really want to talk.

"Fuck me," I mumble, wanting nothing more than to pretend Alex doesn't exist at this point in time.

"Is he still bothering you?" Matty asks, but all I can do is hold my phone out for him to see, "This has got to be some form of harassment."

I laugh a little, I admit, "I don't think so. Whatever, he's just- ugh! Why me, you know?"

He shrugs, "'Cause you're pretty? You attract attention?"

"I do not." I scoff, "That is not good reasoning for this."

"What?" He asks, "A guy who the entire female cohort is chasing after, pays attention to the new, hot American girl in his grade – you think that's not because you're just that? Hot?"