“Then you finish it with someone your own size,” he said. “Or you walk away.”
There was a pause. A beat where I thought maybe they wouldn’t.
Then they did.
They muttered something under their breath and backed off, walking fast, not quite running. Matt waited until they were gone before he turned to me.
The shift was immediate.
“Jesus,” he said, softer now. “You okay?”
I nodded, even though my chest still felt tight and my elbow throbbed. Matt stepped closer, careful, like he didn’t want to startle me. He took my arm gently and turned it, examining the scrape.
“You’re bleeding,” he said.
“It’s nothing.”
“Yeah,” he replied, unconvinced. “That’s what you said when you broke your wrist too.”
I scowled at him. “I didn’t break it.”
“You definitely broke it.”
“I definitely didn’t.”
He snorted and let go of my arm, then looked at me properly. His eyes lingered on my face, checking for tears I was pretending weren’t there.
Then he smirked.
“You throw punches like your girlfriend, Claire.”
I froze.
He knew I liked her. Of course he knew. Everyone knew, apparently.
I shoved his shoulder hard. “Shut up.”
He laughed, loud and easy, the sound bouncing off the brick wall.
I laughed too, because the tension had cracked, because the moment had passed, because he’d shown up when I needed him and didn’t make a big deal out of it.
That was Matt. He just showed up.
I remember how we walked home together after that, him carrying my backpack even though I told him not to. I remember him stopping at the corner store and buying me a soda with the last of his cash, insisting it was “medicinal.” I remember how he talked about his plans, college, me leaving and getting out, likethe future was something you could map out if you wanted it badly enough.
I remember thinking he was invincible.
Standing here now, years later, with his name carved into stone, that memory hurt more than most.
Because I could still see him so clearly, fifteen and fearless, stepping between me and the world without hesitation. Because I could still hear his laugh, still feel the safety of it settling into my bones.
He’d spent his whole life protecting me.
And I hadn’t been there when he needed me.
The thought sat heavy in my chest, familiar and unforgiving. I wondered how many times he’d done that for me over the years, how many walls he’d put himself between me and something sharp without me even noticing.
I wondered if he’d known how much it mattered.
