Flat-Out Love (30 page)

“No, I don’t know what I’m dealing with. I don’t understand anything, because none of you will tell me! Why are your parents never here?” she exploded. “Why does she have Flat Finn? Why won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t, Julie! I just can’t! It’s none of your business. How many times do you have to hear it?”

She looked helplessly at Matt. She’d never seen him like this. “OK. OK. I’m done.” She held her hands up. “I’m out of it. I just…I just wanted to help. I shouldn’t have.” She was quieter now, giving in. “You’re right. You handle this however you want.”

“Obviously, Julie, you don’t like the way I do things, and you don’t like me the way I am. Fine. I couldn’t care less. But stop trying to change me. You don’t get to pick which parts of me you find acceptable and throw away what you don’t. I’ll never be what you want. You don’t like me? Then stay out of my life.”

She was so confused. This conversation was all over the place, and she didn’t even know what was happening. “How could you say that? I do like you, Matt.”

He turned away and walked toward his room. “I’m exhausted.
You’re
exhausting me.”

“Matt, please—”

“Go to hell, Julie.”

Frozen, Julie could not move from her spot in the hall. She could barely breathe. What had happened? How could Matt have said all those things?

Maybe she
had
been pushy and nosy and should have left things alone. Just because she was staying in their house didn’t
mean she had the right to meddle into their affairs. Truly, her intention had never been to be intrusive or disrespectful. But she obviously had. Her professor had pointed this out to her too.
Why do you have to be the fixer?

She didn’t. She shouldn’t. She was just a guest here. A boarder, a babysitter, a driver.

Eventually she found herself in her room, lying on top of the blankets, unable to sleep. Finn’s room felt different now, empty and lonely. Her emotions were on overload, and the sounds of Celeste’s cries and Matt’s awful words echoed in her head.

He could be right about her father. It was true that she had given him far too many chances, only for him to prove over and over again that he was a dreadful parent. He had never given her any real reason to love him. But she had.

It was different with Finn, though. Matt was wrong about him. He did care about her.

She checked the clock. It was almost four in the morning. The night had been so peaceful until that phone call. Now everything was in shambles.

After another forty-five minutes of anxiety-ridden attempts to sleep, she gave up. She checked her computer, and there were no messages from Finn. Of all the times for him to disappear. Her heart ached. She missed him and needed him now. Summer couldn’t come fast enough. Finn
would
be here, and he’d stay here. And Celeste would be better. Maybe not completely, but she would be better.

Roaming the room and staring out the window at the night sky got her nowhere. She couldn’t tolerate this. She hated fighting. It made clear thought impossible for her. Everything was in chaos.

Julie left her room and went into the dark hallway. She hesitated for a moment before she knocked lightly. There was no
response. She couldn’t stop herself and opened the door anyway. “Matt?”

Julie walked softly across the floor and sat down on the edge of his bed. “Matty,” she said.

The moonlight was enough that she could see he was awake, just not answering her. He was on his back, one hand folded under his head and the other resting on his chest. He turned to look at her. At least he looked as miserable as she felt.

“I’m sorry. Please. You have to forgive me.” Her voice was breaking. She knew that she was on the verge of falling apart, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she kept repeating. “Matty, please. You can’t be this mad at me. I can’t take it.” Julie leaned forward, dropping her head onto his chest and slipping her arms under his shoulders, trying to make him hold her. The Matt she’d seen earlier tonight had been a stranger. She hugged him tightly, wanting nothing more than for him to come back to her, to be himself again.

A few minutes passed, and then she felt his hand on the back of her head, gently stroking her hair. She closed her eyes.

“Shhh…” he said. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean any of the things I said to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Julie turned her head, resting her cheek against him and listening to his breathing. His voice was soothing, his touch relaxing, and Julie’s pain began to lighten a hint. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing, staying where she was as his hand continued to move through her hair and then to her back. He lulled her into a place where nothing hurt anymore, and this whole dreadful evening started to feel like a nightmare that she was coming out of. His stroke traveled over the straps of her tank top, brushing against her skin, making her shiver and curl into him more.

“I was awful,” he continued. “Your relationship with your father is none of my business. Of course you love him, and you have every right to. What I said was unforgivable.” Matt was sincerely upset. She could hear it. “You’re the best thing to happen to Celeste. She was lost before you got here. As if she didn’t belong anywhere. You’re saving her. I
never
should have said what I did.”

“No, I pushed her too much,” Julie said quietly. “And you. It won’t happen again.”

“You’ve been perfect. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know. That’s all right.” She kept her tight hold around him, as if letting go might break his absolution, and he would again let loose with more cruel blame.

The rush and tension from their earlier scene had started to wane, and she was feeling drowsy, settled into a postfight haze. Like she’d been drugged with relief.

The air felt chilly, and his touch was giving her goose bumps. Julie shivered again.

“Cold?” he asked.

“Yeah. A little.”

As Matt moved his legs over in the bed, she eased in next to him, sliding under the blanket, onto her side and into the crook of his arm. His hand was still on her back, his fingertips starting to trace the curve of her shoulder blade, moving up to brush the nape of her neck, then traveling up and down her arm. She took his free hand in hers, intertwining their fingers, and squeezed.

He squeezed back.

“So we’re still friends?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said after a moment. “We’re still friends.”

He didn’t hate her. They were fine. Celeste would be fine. This would all work out, and there was no irrevocable damage. Nothing else mattered.

Now fatigue took over and Julie yawned. She was so completely tired and so emotionally spent. The night had drained her of any ability to reason, but she felt peaceful for the moment, grounded. Eventually Matt’s touch against her skin slowed, and his breathing changed, and she knew that he’d fallen asleep. It was impossible to fight the heaviness that was drawing at her now, so she let the sound of his slumber pull her into her own.

Later—still in his arms, her hand still in his—she stirred.

She felt him lightly kiss the top of her head and say something. He was so quiet that she could barely hear him.

Julie sleepily tilted her head up.

“God, I’m so sorry, Julie,” he said.

“Me too.”

And then without realizing it, without thinking, she inched up just a little until her mouth was close to his. She had no idea what she was doing, as though she were following some instinct that she couldn’t control. Maybe she was still asleep. Maybe this wasn’t happening. She moved a tiny bit closer, barely touching her lips to his. His mouth was warm and tempting, luring her in. Neither of them moved.

Then his hand was firmly on her side, guiding her body up higher and bringing her mouth closer to his. Matt pressed his lips against hers, and he kissed her.

His mouth was soft and unhurried. Teasing, even. His tongue just brushing hers and making her tremble. She kissed back, tasting him, breathing him in. Julie was dizzy and shaky and inundated with his heat. He made her temporarily lost, not able to see beyond the way this kiss felt. In the moonlit light,
it was smooth, easy, instinctive. She moved her leg over his, bringing them closer together.

She couldn’t possibly be awake.

Her chest was pressed against his, his hand on her lower back, his fingers digging into her skin. She didn’t want this to stop. She moved one hand to the back of his neck, kissing him harder.

But then Matt tightened his hand around hers before gently resting his head back onto the pillow. He pushed the hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Julie didn’t move for a second.
This was nuts
. She lowered her body and nestled back into his chest. As bleary-eyed, stunned, and out-of-it as she was, part of her knew that she should get up and go back to her room. Even though that was the last thing that she wanted to do. And part of her knew that what had just happened was unexplainable. It must be a dream.

It had to be.

But she didn’t care too much, at least for right now, because the horrible rift between them was healed. That was the most important thing.

I should go
, she told herself.
I’m supposed to leave
. Julie shut her eyes.
Why don’t I want to leave? Why don’t I want to leave?

But she simply couldn’t stay awake long enough to persuade herself to get out of his bed. Julie surrendered to sleep, letting her body shape against Matt’s as he held her closely.

Matthew Watkins
took the “Which random number are you?” quiz and the result was: 3. Which is lame, because 3 is, like, the least random number there is
.

Finn Is God
So much for Earth Day. I totally screwed things up and started celebrating the wrong planet. Now I have to collect all these stupid trademarked dog figurines that I distributed all over the yard. At least it’s better than last year’s mistake when I had butt statues everywhere
.

Julie Seagle
I like the gritty intensity of
Jaws 4.
There is a simple honesty to the storytelling that is utterly compelling. Plus, the shark roars
.

Julie rolled over and opened her eyes, squinting against the sunlight that blasted her in the face.

Holy…

She was in Matt’s bed. Alone, thank God. At least there was no tragic wake-up-in-each-other’s-arms moment. She yanked the sheet up over her head and ran over what had happened last night.

This didn’t have to be a big deal. They had both been emotional, and so things had taken an unexpected turn. Nothing
major. People hook up all the time, right? And not that she and Matt had even really hooked up. A tiny little kiss between friends.

Shit
.

“Julie?”

She pulled the sheet down and peeked out. Matt was leaning into his room and quite obviously avoiding making eye contact.

“Celeste is cooking breakfast.” He cleared his throat. “You went for a run, and you just got back. That’s why you weren’t in your room when she went to wake you up.”

“When exactly did I take up running? I never knew this about myself.”

“Next time you can come up with something better.” He paused. “Not that there’s going to be a next time. I just meant… Maybe you should…you know…”

“Got it. Getting up now. I was never here.” Julie rubbed her hands over her face. “Tell Celeste that I’m in the shower, and I’ll be right down.”

“OK.”

“Wait a minute.” She sat up. “Celeste is making breakfast? She’s feeling all right?”

“Apparently.”

Matt disappeared, and she scrambled to her room. Julie made a face at her unruly reflection in the mirror, grabbed some clothes, and hit the shower. Hopefully Celeste had made a giant pot of coffee too, because four hours of sleep was not going to cut it.

By the time she took a seat next to Flat Finn and Matt at the kitchen table, the smell of a full breakfast had filled the house. She eyed the bowl of cut-up strawberries, the tray of scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage, and the butter, syrup, and carafe of
coffee suspiciously. The table had been set with the good dishes and cloth napkins. Why was Celeste in such a good mood?

“Good morning,” Celeste chirped as she ladled pancake batter onto a skillet.

“Good morning,” Julie answered hesitantly. “This is very nice of you to cook all this.”

“I wanted to. Let me finish with the pancakes, and then we can discuss things.”

“Looking forward to it,” she lied.

Julie kept her head down and pretended to be captivated by garage sales listings in the newspaper.

“Go ahead and start eating. The pancakes will be ready in a second.”

Julie and Matt both reached for the eggs at the same time, causing a flurry of apologies and “go aheads.”

Ta da!
This is why you don’t kiss platonic friends whom you live with. Or sleep in their beds. Or let them run their hands all over your arms and shoulders and make you tingle inappropriately…

Julie stuffed her mouth with food so that she wouldn’t have to talk and continued not reading the paper. There was a way to make sense of what had happened last night: After months of being all fired up about Finn, she had transferred her pent-up physical frustrations to Matt. And Matt had probably been in the mood because of his date with Dana the night before. Of course it was sort of disgusting and tacky that she’d kissed the same guy her friend had been making out with the night before. What was wrong with her? And what the hell had Matt been thinking? Perhaps Matt was just a big old slut who ran around Boston kissing every girl he met, and he’d been waiting for the right time to add Julie to his list. At least that way, the kiss would be as meaningless to him as it was to her.

She glanced up for a second and caught him looking at her.

This is all understandable
, she reasoned. They
did
have a certain comfort level with each other, so it was not completely freakish that they had blurred the lines for a moment after an emotionally trying evening.