He says the last two words like he’s entirely repulsed, making it abundantly clear just howwonderfulhe thinks it is. Nevertheless, he opens the binder he’s carrying and pulls out a sleek, glossy invitation. You’d think he paid for it himself with how reluctant he is to hand it over, but hand it over he does, and I pass the invite to Holly after giving it a look.
“I’ll email you further instructions,” Gabriele then says, turning on his heels and heading for his desk that’s parallel to Lorenzo’s office.
“Well,” Marco says once he’s out of earshot, “he’s a peach, isn’t he?”
Back at the apartment it’s well past eleven when I sneak out of Marco’s room, quietly closing his door for fear of waking anyone. After rambling about the party for the past two hours and making me reenact Holly’s and my tarot reading more than once, Marco finally crashed and I’m partly delirious with my own exhaustion.
I’m halfway down the hall and just a few feet from my door when Matt suddenly appears at the top of the stairs, sweaty and breathing heavy in a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt. He stops when he sees me, his eyes going a little wide in momentary surprise. He pulls out his earbuds and his expression returns to impassive, seeming like he just might turn around and run an extra mile rather than talk to me.
“Hey,” he says, remaining on the landing without coming closer.
Instead of taking the last steps to my door, I stay where I am, too. “Hey. Sorry, I was just on my way to my room.”
He wipes at his forehead with his wrist. “And you felt you owed me an apology for that?”
Rather than groan, I opt to let out a defeated breath. “You can never let things be easy, can you? I’ve had a long day and I’m not in the mood for snarky swordplay at the moment.”
“I’m not trying to argue,” he says. “I’m just reiterating the fact that you don’t have to apologize for everything. You’re staying here. You’re allowed to walk in the hallways whenever you want.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” Matt doesn’t respond, and I take a tentative step forward, reminding myself that he and I made an agreement to be civil. “So,” I venture, “did you enjoy your run?”
He seems cautious but moves off the landing and enters the hallway. “It was fine. I usually run in the mornings, but it was too hot today.”
It isn’t easy to observe him with the hall being as narrow and dark as it is, but looking at him now, I can see that he has a runner’s body. It makes sense. Matt seems like a person who has to burn off his annoyance and frustration with the world, and I doubt he’d relax in a crowded gym. But running with music blaring in his ears as he blocks everyone and everything out, that, I can imagine.
“What do you listen to when you run?” I ask him.
He looks at me like he’s surprised I asked. I guess we both are. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you can guess.”
An interesting wager, but one that I’ll never win. I think for a split second before answering, “TheTeletubbiestheme song.”
“You have a very odd sense of humor,” he tells me.
I shrug and we both move to lean against opposite walls as we stand facing each other.
“What are you doing up so late?” he goes on to ask. “You guys are all usually passed out by nine.”
“Marco wanted to hear my thoughts on what he should wear to a work party tomorrow. Thoughts that he ultimately rejected, of course.”
“Of course,” he repeats. “Are you talking about the Gia Luca party?”
“That I am.” Matt folds his arms across his chest and I’m only just realizing how defined they are. Maybe push-ups are a staple in his angry exercise regimen.
“I’ll be there, too,” he says. “Whenever I’m home, my mom makes me go to as many events as possible.”
“I’m sure you love that,” I tease.
“What’s not to love? I don’t know if you can tell, but I thrive in social situations.”
I can’t stop the chuckle that tumbles out of my mouth, and I try not to react when Matt smiles slightly at the sound of it.
“If you don’t want to go then why bother?” I ask.
Matt straightens up. “Because it’ll make my mom happy. I gave her enough trouble as a kid, so I like to do what I can to make it up to her now.”
“A wayward youth, were you?”
Matt pauses. “As pleasant as I am now, take that and imagine me as a teenager.”
