Matt's Story (7 page)

“You got everything, right?” my mom asks for the seven thousandth time.

“Yes, Mom,” I say, closing my car’s trunk. “Everything is packed—oh wait, crap, hold on.” I remember something important and run back into the house. I reach under my bed and grab my bass guitar. I’ve missed it. I take it out of its case and feel the cool strings against my fingers again. They’re familiar, like an old friend coming back. I put it back in its case and run outside.

“How’d you forget that?” my dad asks, opening the trunk again. My car is small, but we fit almost everything in. The rest is in my parents’ car, which will be following behind
me. Thankfully I’m moving into a furnished apartment, so I don’t have to worry about pink or purple microwaves and the like.

“I’m going to miss you so much, sweetie,” Mom says, pulling me in for a hug. Dad looks on awkwardly, not one for physical contact. But he’s
here
sending me off, so that’s something. It was another argument, another talk, but eventually he came into my room and said he was proud. Eventually he had a conversation with Chris that didn’t involve yelling. Eventually he decided to be a dad, and explained that
his
father never was one, so he never knew how to do it. I haven’t seen it much yet, but he’s coming on this trip, so that’s a start.

“Mom, I can’t breathe,” I say, and she releases me. I hear a car and turn around to see Delilah’s parking in front of our house. Chris opens the door and steps out.

“You didn’t think I’d miss Matty-Matt-Matt’s send-off, did you?” he yells, walking from the car to me.

“So glad the nicknames are continuing,” I drily say as he grabs me in a hug, and I smile so big. Because this is my brother, with all of his faults. This is the guy who taught me how to ride a bike, and helped me when I fell. Who introduced me to all his friends at school, and checked in on me during the day. This is the guy who helped me plan my next move, as scary as it is. He’s not perfect, he’s not a role model, but he’s my brother, and that’s enough.

“You’ll be okay, yeah?” he says into my shoulder.

“You know it.”

“And if anyone bothers you—” he says, and I pull away and shake my head.

“I know, I know. And you’ll be okay?”

“Now, yeah,” he says, putting his arm around Delilah. He’s starting up school again next semester at a local community college. I helped him apply right after he helped me decide my future. He’s still going to live at home. They’re small steps, but they’re something.

“I’ll be back to visit soon, okay?” I say.

“You better. And if not, I’m coming to get you.”

“Don’t doubt him, he’ll actually do it,” Delilah says, breaking in to hug me good-bye. I look at her and, this time, I’m happy she stayed with my brother. I really am. He needs her.

“Okay, we should get going before it’s too late,” Mom says. “We’ll be right behind you. Just flash your lights if you need anything. NO CELL PHONE.”

“I know, I know. I’m a good driver, you know,” I say, and she whacks me in the head.

“Are your friends coming by before we leave?” she asks, and I’m reminded of Orlando, when she asked me the same thing about Ella. But this time, I did say good-bye, and I do plan on staying in touch.

They took me to pick out new glasses yesterday. “New start, new you!” Cindy had said, holding up at least two dozen pairs for me to try on. I’d settled on a pair of black
wire-rimmed ones. Like always, it took a few minutes to adjust to new glasses, but they fit my face perfectly, and they did look new and cool. More mature. I was going to college as the same Matt, only new and improved.

We threw a going-away party for the three of us after at Kat’s while her mom was out. We had champagne, again, and I left when the girls started making out. I figured it was my cue to leave. But before I stepped out, I turned around and tried to thank them for what they did, for being there, for bringing me back to life. I wanted to say so much, but I only got out “thank you” before they tackled me with a hug. It’s nice, having them. I know we’ll go our separate ways over time, but I want to know what happens; I’m not ready to lose them yet. Maybe a slow end of a friendship isn’t as bad as I thought—maybe just having something, for however long, is enough.

“Okay, all ready?” Dad asks, banging on the top of the car.

I look at the house that was never really my house, and at my parents who, despite everything, were always there for me. I look at Chris, who’s now leaning on Delilah, and give him a high five. I take a deep breath in and nod.

I get in the car, turn on the engine, and load the playlist Ella made me so long ago, because I want to hear it. I’m ready to see her, and move back there to Orlando. I’m not running away this time. She said yes to me once before, so maybe she’ll do it again.

Maybe. Just maybe.

The Night We Said Yes

Matt’s Story

MATT’S STORY
. Copyright © 2015 by Lauren Gibaldi. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition © July 2015 ISBN 9780062391551

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