“Alright, then.” As we stand in front of each other, I don’t really know how to greet him. I stare away, wondering if I should just shake his hand, or give him a hug like I used to. “How are you?” I ask, my tone coming off a bit awkward.
His eyes remain pinned on me and his face just as bright. Well, he seems way more comfortable than me. “I’m good—studying hard for the exams. And you?”
“Yeah, me too,” I find myself saying for lack of a better answer.
“You look great, by the way. The tan suits you.”
I drop my gaze at his compliment, it’s so weird when he says something nice to me like that. I never know how to react, so I just tuck some hair behind my ear, smiling at him. “Oh, thanks.”
“Well, um, I’ve got the study here with me.” Matt is already on his way back to the table to show me the stack of sheets of our study printed out. “So, I think we just need to draft a conclusion, and then we can review everything.” As I look at it, I notice the text is already filled with notes in red.
“You are already revising the study?” I ask him.
“Well, yeah…” He seems a bit uncomfortable as he says so.
And as I read the text he’s been revising, I can’t help but feel my nerves boiling. “You have been editing the whole part I wrote?” My tone comes off way more outraged than I wanted.
“Um, yeah, there were some mistakes, and I wanted to improve it.” What on earth? Last time we worked on the study, he had said my part was great ,and it was good to go.
“Alright,” I snap. “Give me yours.”
“Um, what do you mean?” he asks, confused.
“Give me your part of the study. I’ll start reviewing it now,” I tell him, already taking his red pen and siting down.
“Oh…” There’s a faint of a smirk playing on his lips as he pulls a chair and sits beside me. “You’re mad at me because I edited your lovely defense on Ayn Rand?” I couldn’t care less about Ayn Rand, but knowing him as I do, he edited it because he was the one personally mad at me.
“The text was fine. You told me that yourself the last time we met.” I hear the librarian uttering a ssshhh at me for speaking too loud. So, lowering my voice, I add, “Why did you change it so much?”
Matt shrugs, his lips in a straight line. “Because it wasn’t that fine.”
“So, why did you say it was?” I ask, annoyance thick in my tone.
He seems rather uncomfortable as I keep my eyes on him. “Because I wanted to be nice.” His words hit my ego hard, crashing it in two. But I would be lying if I say my heart didn’t also take a reel. Matt averts eye contact, and his attitude leaves me totally speechless. “I read it again during my birthday,” he finally confesses, a bit shyly. “I was mad at you for running away in the middle of the night. I felt betrayed, okay?” My mouth parts in awe at his revelation, and I blink twice. “So, yeah, I read your text not like a friend, but as someone who needs to get a good grade on the project.” Matt draws out a breath, running a hand through his hair, before pressing his lips together. “You have nothing to say?”
“Um, I’m sorry…” The words are merely audible as I’m still processing everything he just said. Well, that’s exactly what I thought; he revised it while being mad at me. I try not to squirm in my seat. “I, um, I know you were looking forward for me to be present at your birthday.”
“Well, I was present at yours, wasn’t I?”
The question feels like a reality-check, and I know perfectly well that Matt has always been a better friend than I had been to him. “You were, yeah…” I lower my gaze in embarrassment for the way I treated him. I should’ve known he’d still be mad at me for what I did. But somehow, I thought naïvely it was all forgotten. “Can we leave what happened behind us?”
His eyes widen in surprise at my question. “Why would I? You made it clear you don’t care about me.”
“Matt, don’t exaggerate…”
“Let’s just finish the study, alright?”
While Matt is already trying to read and review the rest of the study, I’ve got more to say. “You are supporting my mother. And she is trying to hurt me.”
He looks at me in the eye and ripostes just as fast. “She isn’t trying to hurt you, she’s trying to prevent you from ruining your life.”
“It’s my life,” I tell him. “I do what I want with it.”
“Fine,” he hisses. “Now, can we finish to review the study? I promise afterward you won’t have to see me ever again.”
“Don’t say that,” I find myself asking him.
“Why not? After all, you see me like your enemy, no?” I’ve never heard Matt speaking with so much annoyance in his tone. As we look at each other, I can see how hurt he is at the poor state of our relationship. And, just like me, I know he doesn’t have many friends to turn to. We used to get along so well, working at the library non-stop, talking about all sorts of subjects, but now… Now, I’ve got no idea what we‘ve become. I won’t go as far as calling him an enemy though, maybe just someone who has sided with the wrong people.
“You’re not my enemy. I don’t see you like that.”
“So, how do you see me, then?” His tone is just above a whisper, laced with genuine curiosity and for once, I can’t find any aggressiveness in it.
His question tightens my heart, so I look introspectively, trying to find the truth. “As someone who wants the best for me, despite being very naïve about my mom.”
I see a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and I do exactly the same. I relax myself a bit, as I can tell we’re easing into things a bit more. “At least we agree on the first part.”
With a smile hanging on my lips, I add, “Maybe one day we will agree on the latter, too.”
Putting aside our disagreements, we have been working for the past three hours to finish the study and, I must say, Matt and I managed to do a pretty good job. When we don’t talk about my mom or my relationship with Alex, we get along just fine. As I discreetly look at him, focused on his laptop and finishing to type in the conclusion of our study, I can’t help but say in a whisper, “It feels good to talk to you again.”
All of a sudden, though, he stops typing, his face lighting up with a smile. “I feel the same.” The warmth in his voice unexpectedly makes my face grow red, and his lips form a slow sexy twist while his eyes sparkle when they meet mine again. We know it’s getting awkward, so we both cut eye contact right away. “So,” Matt says, breaking our uncomfortable silence. “Is there anything else you want me to include in the study, or are we good?”
“I think we did a pretty good job,” I tell him.
“I agree, especially when we pointed out the flaws of objectivism.” I’m pretty sure he’s just saying that to piss me off. “That’s the part Prof. Reich will love the most.”
“You mean the part you wrote entirely on your own?” I ask, teasing.
“Of course,” he answers with a smirk, before leaning back on his chair to stretch himself.