Fell In Love In Stages // a matty healy fanfic

Ghosts

The first bell rang, meaning five minutes to class, and like Pavlov's dogs, people started rushing around, filling up the hallways. We packed our belongings and made our way to class. Halfway through, Matty tugged the back of my cardigan, which made me raise an eyebrow at him quizzically. He subtly slowed his pace and I followed suit until we gradually halted to a stop. George and Sophie were engrossed in an argument about their respective football clubs, which was heated enough to distract the group from noticing our separation.
I knew these halls so well—and finally it was starting to feel like they knew me, too. We stood there as the third bell rang and the crowds dwindled. Only then did he grab my hand and lead me out the main door.
"I really don't want to get in any trouble," I told Matty when we get in his car.
"If you didn't, you wouldn't have waited until now to say something"
"Let's just please not get in trouble," I said. "I mean, I want to have fun and everything, but not at the expense of, like, my future."
He looked up at me, his big brown eyes as sparkly as ever, and he smiled just the littlest bit. "I think it's cute you care about that shit"
"Huh?"
"Getting good grades. Getting into a decent college. Building a decent life."
I started to say something, to say that he obviously cared a little, because he had good grades and was going to the Academy of Contemporary Music next year, but he just said, "cigarette", and handed me a lit one.
"Don't mind me asking, but how does a girl like you end up with a mug like that" he says, pointing at no one in particular but there's only one person he could be referring to.
"What's a girl like me?" I laugh
"Competent" he deadpans. "How does that happen?"
"Well, he's been my only consistent... erm, friend."
We spent the next hour and a half talking about my dad and Charlie's dad and all the places I've lived in and all the friends I'd made, and eventually lost touch with. He just sat there and listened, smoking in-between questions.
"So basically, you cling on to Chevy-"
"Charlie", I correct him
"-because", he continues, paying me no mind, "you're afraid to lose the one person who you think really knows you"
"When you put it like that..."
"Yes?"
"Yes"
He pauses, bites his thumb deep in thought, takes a long hard pull of the cigarette and says
"Is it so bad?"
"What is?"
"To be alone?"
"Oh you have no idea. You have three brothers and you're all in a band together so you wouldn't get it"
"Hmm. Truth be told, I haven't spent a single night at home in months. I usually couch surf at one of my mate's. And there was that one time, at yours. Enormous house. Fun times."
"Yeah about that, you seemed reluctant to head back. Why is that, may I ask?"
"My parents..." he trails off
"Do they argue all the time?" I ask
"See, that's the thing, they rarely fight. But mostly they spend their time pretending the other person doesn't exist. And as a result, I end up feeling like I don't exist. Three people live in my house. But in a truer sense, not a single soul lives within those walls. Just three ghosts trying not to cross paths. Talk to me about being alone." He scoffs and lights another.
"Do you have any siblings?"
"If you couldn't already tell by my constant need for validation and attention", pause for dramatic effect, "I am an only child. They were definitely taking the piss with this one", he points both fingers at himself.
The final bell rings and I'm snapped back to reality.
"Shit" I whisper
"What happened?"
"I promised Mr. Morad I'd help him out with his dumb creative writing club"
"Excellent! I'm headed there myself"
"Wait. You skip classes but attend the after school program?"
"Writing fiction is a great way to practice creative writing outside of the tight constraints of lyric writing" he shrugs
I stand there shaking my head, befuddled. "I have no words"
"That's why you need this class" he says cheekily before taking off running.