“Honestly, what?”
“Honestly, it killed me, okay? It shattered me.”
Silence settled over the table, a tense, awkward silence that felt so quiet I could hear my heart pounding in my ears.
“But then I saw you with Jason,” Matt continued. “At the restaurant tonight, and it brought out an entire new hurricane of emotions.”
“How come?”
“Because if you were on a date with Jason, maybe that meant that nothing was going on between you and Jake. That nothing was serious yet.” He took another deep breath and stopped talking, focusing again on his hands. “And I thought it might be easier, you know, to have a chance with you if I wasn’t trying to steal you from my best friend.”
Bestfriends, Matt, I think with an inward shiver.If only you fucking knew what sweet little Renee has been up to.
But I didn't say this. I didn't say anything. I watched him instead, noticing how the tired lines on his face danced with his many changing expressions.
“Matt, is your mom okay?” I asked finally, hoping we could avoid the best friend conversation altogether. “She looked ... well, she didn’t look good.”
Matt hesitated, and for a second, I was sure he wasn’t going to tell me anything like maybe I’d stepped into something far too personal, but then he rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head, defeated.
“Cancer. Lung cancer. Stage two.”
“Jesus.” My hand fluttered over my mouth, shocked, and Matt looked away, unable to hold my eyes. I couldn't blame him. Forcing my shock to the sidelines, I reached over without thinking about it and placed my hand over Matt’s, squeezing. I expected him to pull away at once, but he didn’t. “I am sorry,” I said quietly. “I am so fucking sorry.”
“Yeah, well, that’s life, right?”
“What is her treatment plan? Her chances?”
“She has been in chemo for over six months,” Matt said. “The doctors think it was working okay, but it makes her sick, too. She is nothing but skin and bones now.”
“The cigarette,” I said, remembering something suddenly. “You said it was a metaphor. You never lit it.”
“Yeah. My mom smoked for the majority of her life. I used to as a teenager as well. When she got her diagnosis, I just started doing it as comfort. It stuck.”
I didn’t say anything to this. There was nothing to say. I didn't ask about Matt’s dad, either, because I already know the story. Most of our senior high school class did, actually. Matt’s loser dad had taken off when he was little after beating his mom unconscious and trying to load Matt up in his truck to take him away. I didn’t know the details, but I didn’t need to. It was a horrifying ordeal; if I’d ever given myself a reason to feel bad for Matthew Nelson, that would have been it.
“Look, Matt ...” I started to pull my hand away, figuring it was beginning to make him uncomfortable, but I was shocked when he grabbed hold of it to stop me, squeezing it gently. I relax and leave it there. “I am sorry you found me in the apartment with Jake. We were just talking.”
“They like you too, you know,” Matt said, chuckling darkly. “Both Jake and Aaron. I guess we all do, really.”
“Yeah, I ... I think I know that.” I dropped my gaze again because I couldn't seem to face him for much longer. Being with him, at this moment, together in the warm silence of the library, I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to lean over the table, press my lips to his, and hold onto him until I felt safe again. Matt has always given me that impression ... security. It was a comforting thought.
I wanted to tell him everything. I really did. I wanted to tell him that I’d already been with Jake and Aaron and that it was a mistake because I never intended to hurt any of them.
But I was afraid to tell him anything. Afraid of how he’d react.
And I realized right then that I was afraid of how he’d react because I might have feelings for him, too.
No, scratch that. Idefinitelyhad feelings for Matthew Nelson, and my feelings for him were just as intense and overwhelming as I had for his friends.
And it was clear now, as I slowly pulled my hand out from under his, trying not to get lost in the dark, shadowy eyes, that this man sitting in front of me was the third and final nail in my inevitable coffin.
I had an early morning shift rotation at the hospital the next day, and I was awake by four-thirty so I could get to the ER in time to do rounds before I had to be ready for class. I stayed up too late, so I was exhausted, and every passing second quietly berates me for thinking I could handle boy drama, class, and work all in one.
“Heads up, Lyon, we have multiple fire victims en route,” Doctor Shaffer called. “The fire department is bringing them in.”
“Got it.” I pulled some gloves over the sleeve of my gown and followed Doc Shaffer to the ambulance bay, where an enormous fire truck was rolling up, lights flashing. An ambulance was already parked, and two people got out. One was a woman I didn’t know, and the other was Aaron.
“I was wondering when I’d see you here,” Aaron said, pulling open the back of the bus doors to unload the first patient. “This is Samantha Daniels, thirty-three years old. She has second-degree burns on her arms and torso, but her breathing has been stabilized. She had plenty of smoke inhalation when the building went up.”
