His touch feels good, proof that he’s not going to run away from me just because things got hard for a minute. “I usually just eat shit,” I answer. “But I guess seeing him mess with you pushed me over the edge.”
Matty smiles widely, his eyes bright, then pulls his hands away, walking us toward a wooden picnic table. “I guess I wasn’t wrong when I said that you’d protect me. I just wish your boss hadn’t gotten so mad.”
I rub my hand across my face. “Fuck,” I groan. “I really messed it up.”
“You think it’s bad?”
I take a seat on the bench. “I’ve never seen Caesar yell like that.” I chug from my beer, sick with the idea that I’d disappointed him. If Matty weren’t there, I’d probably stroll out and start looking for a different career tomorrow. It’s a lot faster than working at shit pay for another year only to get kicked to the curb.
I shake my head. That’s not what really matters, though.
Matty might be smiling, but I remember that look on his face when Jeremiah hassled him. It’s still paining me now.
“You looked upset,” I say, keeping my voice steady as some punk band warms up on the stage. “You sure you’re okay? I can go back in there and break a chair over his head, if you want.”
Matty looks at either side of the picnic table, then joins me on the same bench. “You really would do that, I realize,” he laughs.
I shrug. “Better to make an impression on the way out.”
Matty considers his beer. His cheeks are flushed in the cool air, and his lips are scrunched to the side. He looks beautiful like that, half under the shadow of the convention center as the sun sinks toward night.
“I was bullied,” he finally says, his eyes down. “Back when I still lived in Iowa. It got pretty bad for a while. I’ve dealt with it for the most part and moved on, but if I feel like someone’s targeting me like that…” He trails off. There’s a tight knot of sadness in his voice that I haven’t heard before, and it breaks my heart. “It can make me really anxious,” he finishes, finally glancing up at me.
My hands tighten into fists by my side, anger boiling again. “I fucking hate that someone did that to you.”
His face breaks open, and a smile comes up. “You do?”
“Yeah, I really do.”
Matty nods, satisfied. “That’s nice, actually.”
“I wish you would have told me, though. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have brought you around that guy. Bully is his main personality trait.”
He laughs. “It’s okay, really. I knew I’d feel out of place. But it’s good to challenge myself sometimes, prove the bullies didn’t win.”
It’s kind of amazing, actually, how quickly Matty bounces back. It sounds like he’s been through something hellish, but he’s still so bright and happy.
I feel like a moth drawn to a light when I’m around him.
Out of all the things I fucked up today, the fact that I let Matty get hurt feels the worst. “Listen, why don’t we call it good for today? I’ll have to slink back in there with my tail between my legs, but you’ve had enough. I can call you a car home, and you can enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”
Matty leans forward, one elbow on the picnic table and his legs spread on either side of the bench to face me. “As if. Didn’t you hear what I just said, Stone? No letting the bullies win.”
Heat builds between my legs. Something about the way he’s leaning in hits me like a bolt of lightning. He’s flirting again, and in the middle of the convention center, after what just happened with Jeremiah, I suddenly don’t know what to do with myself.
Except that I really want to flirt back. In all the confusing emotions, that one is loud and clear.
“What does that mean, not letting the bullies win?” I ask. The only way I know how to do that is to teach Jeremiah a lesson with my fists, but I know that’s not Matty’s style.
He takes my hand and stands. Both of us still holding our beers, he drags me away from the picnic table and toward the crowd again. “It means showing them you’re not bothered.”
The band is starting up, a guitar squealing over the drums, and as we walk, our bodies inch closer and closer together.
“Not bothered,” I repeat.
“Like Jeremiah doesn’t even exist.” Matty turns and drapes an arm over my shoulder as he takes a drink from his beer. “Do you see behind me, at the bar?”
I glance, and my eyes immediately catch on Jeremiah’s height. “I can’t get the fuck away from this guy,” I grumble.
