“Matt, dude, what the hell?!” Liam screams in slurred frustration.

Matt’s angled so that he’s blocking me from Liam’s view. His wide back seems even bigger with that oversized hoodie he’s wearing. The hood is up and his hair is brushed back under a black baseball cap while his bodyguard is nowhere to be seen.

Did he sneak out? Why? Wait, does he even live near here?

There’s a bag in his hand from the nearby gas station, seems there are some snacks inside so I guess he lives close by. If he wanted some snacks, why not take a car? I’ve seen him driving a black Mercedes so I know he has one, Mr. Rich and Famous.

“I should be asking you that,” Matt replies while pushing Liam’s arm away. The jerk stumbles back. His friends catch him before he topples over. “He apologized. Why are you trying to start a fight?”

“He started it!”

“Are you really that drunk, or just stupid?”

Liam growls. Matt turns away without a care. His blue eyes fall to me in a quiet stare. With his hair is brushed it gives an even better view of his stupidly attractive face.

Ah, wait, what’s he doing here? Why help me? I’d ask, but honestly, I rather he keep helping until I’m out of this situation. My chicken arms would snap if I even considered throwing a punch, let alone actually go through with it.

“Let’s go,” Matt says while swaying his head to the side in a gesture towards the street.

“Let’s...go?”

Matt doesn’t explain. He walks away without a word. The big question is, should I follow?

Seeing Liam out of the corner of my eye completely fuming and still very much drunk, I decide the hell with it, and bolt after Matt. Everyone is talking. I hear their chatter until we’re at the end of the street. Matt is walking a few steps ahead of me, head down, proving that he definitely snuck out and is trying to keep his face from being seen. If that’s the case, why help me? This will be the next talk of the school.

The great Matt Jeneviere helped the loser that spilled lunch all over his fancy shirt. Why? Maybe because he definitely wants his money so he can’t have the kid dying? Who knows! And what’s he doing out so late anyways? He definitely wasn’t at the party.

“Um...Matt?” I end up calling, earning myself a quiet hum in response. “Thanks, y’know, for the help.”

“Mm.”

Not much of a conversationalist, is he? I can’t complain, neither am I.

Silence falls between us. The occasional car drives past on the road. Sometimes Matt’s footsteps are heavy enough to sound like a stomp. The grocery bag crinkles in the wind and I clutch my ruined M&M’s. So much for not leaving empty handed. This is hella awkward, but we both end up walking until I see the local gas station. To get to the dorms we should turn right, but Matt ends up going left.

“Ah, I’ll s-see you around.” I’m not sure if I stated or asked that. Either way, it earns me a cocked brow from Matt when he turns to face me.

“We’re going to the gas station.”

“We?” I point to me then him.

“Yes. You’re bleeding.”

That’s when my body decides to recognize pain. A pain that shoots up my arm and causes me to hiss. Pulling said arm up, I find that my elbow has a pretty nasty burn from the sidewalk. Blood is dripping from the wound. I even left a trail behind us!

“The gas station is closer,” Matt says, like that’s enough of an explanation. Once more, he walks across the street simply expecting me to follow.

But I don’t want to follow. We don’t know each other well. Sure he helped me out, but being with Matt is asking to be in the spotlight. Everything he does is watched and discussed, like he’s an animal in the wild getting another documentary. Sighing, I end up following only because I would feel guilty otherwise. This whole situation is weird. I’m not entirely sure how to handle it.

“Hello!” The store clerk calls when we step in. He offers us both a smile but Matt is already heading for the bandages. I give the clerk an awkward smile and run after Matt.

“Uh, I can do this at home?” I suggest when Matt hands me a box of bandages.

He’s grabbing some antibiotic ointment when he answers, “Is anyone there? It’d be hard to do on your own.”

Ah. That’s right. I didn’t tell Tori I was leaving. Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone only to see Tori has messaged me stating that he wouldn’t be home tonight. Seems him and Chelsea really hit it off. Well, at least they aren’t coming back to do the dirty deed at the dorms.

“Nope, it’s just me tonight.”

Matt doesn’t respond to that. He’s heading for the cash register without warning. He does that a lot. I rush after him since I see that he’s reaching for his wallet. Before he manages to pay for it, I literally throw my wallet on the counter. Both he and the clerk stare at me in confusion.

“Ah, I got it,” I laugh nervously, quickly grabbing some money to hand to the clerk before he even rings everything up.

Matt is standing next to me with his hands in his pockets, but the moment everything is paid for he grabs it and asks, “May we have the key to the restroom?”

The clerk hands us the key and we head to the restroom. Hey, this feels oddly familiar. I don’t lock the door behind us though.

I start to laugh just as Matt washes his hands. While doing so he asks, “What?”

“We’re in a restroom again,” I explain, gesturing to the room around us. “At least this time it isn’t a crowded stall.”

“Ah.”

Ah? That’s his only reaction? Ah? Well, I thought it was funny. Boy clearly doesn’t understand good comedy.

“Put your elbow under the water,” Matt orders, gently pressing his hand to the back of my arm.

The water stings a bit but it’s nice to see the dirt clearing out. My arm is quickly cleaned and, once we both see the debris is out, Matt turns the faucet off. He hands me some paper towels that I use to dry off my arm while he opens the antibiotic and band-aids.

“Put some antibiotics on the next few days. Change the bandage at least once a day,” Matt says, which should be caring but his voice never changes. He almost sounds bored. Even his expression gives way that he’s annoyed, but if that were the case, why would he be helping so much? He even goes so far as to put the antibiotic on himself.

“You seem good at this,” I mutter, watching Matt work with such concentration that it makes my cheeks a little warm.

I never see him concentrate that much on anyone. In school he pays close attention, but to people? Not even a little. Those around him talk, he rarely responds. They ask him to hang out, he always says no. Matt is in his own little world, but right now, it feels like we’re sharing that world.

“At what?” Matt asks without looking away from his work.

“Just...this.”

Seems he understands because he nods.

“I guess. I have three younger siblings so—” Matt shrugs and, honestly, that is explanation enough.

“Wow, three? So are you the oldest?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m the youngest. I have an older sister.”

“Mm.”

Once Matt deems the wound treated, he gently puts a band-aid on. He’s so concentrated that I can’t stand looking at him so I stare at the floor. The tiles are nice. They’re surprisingly clean. Someone give the clerk a raise. This is the cleanest gas station restroom I’ve ever seen. Usually they smell of B.O. and trash, but I detect some scent of lavender.

“Um...y-you know you didn’t have to help so much,” I mumble. Matt stands up straight, finally releasing my arm so that it swings next to my side. I don’t know what expression he’s making because I refuse to look at him. “Jumping into the fight and even helping with a little scratch. We don’t even know each other.”

“Do we need to?” Matt asks without hesitation. “If you saw someone in trouble that you could help, wouldn’t you help them?”

“Well...I guess...I’d like to i-if I could so, that’s true.”

I scratch nervously at the back of my head. Not only am I not paying him back, but now he has also helped me out. I should at least treat him to lunch or something.

“I need to get going,” Matt suddenly says, grabbing his own bag. He’s heading for the door before I can even think of what to say, but before he goes, he looks back at me and shows the softest smile I’ve ever seen. Just the slightest upward tilt of his lips so he looks almost sly, but when he does it there is a slight sign of dimples. How fitting.

“Try to stick out of trouble on your way home, Dana.”

“Ah, y-yeah, I’ll try!”

Matt leaves without another word.

Is this real life? Somehow I went from spilling food on the campus superstar to being helped by him in less than a week. Holy shit, I even have his number. Not that I plan to tell anyone that since I’m sure some dumb ass will try to abuse that knowledge. Still, this...this can’t be happening.

Is this the Matrix glitching? It must be. Because there’s no way the Matt Jeneviere would speak to me let alone know my—

Dana.

He knows my name?!

Ah, well, I guess someone told him after all the drama. Obviously, haha...