opia; matty healy.

6%

Matty says nothing as he returns with a box of fries. He places them in front of me and turns back to his food, sitting silently and ignoring everyone's stares and attempts to include him in conversation. Matty says nothing for the rest of lunch. I know he has a free period until the end of the day; our art lesson begins and ends at the same time. I assume he'll go to the library, and just as I thought, he gets up when the bell rings for the end of lunch and I follow closely behind him. He stops when the corridors begin clearing and I accidentally crash into his back. He turns around and grabs my arms to keep me stable.

"Sorry," I say quickly, "Thanks."

He says nothing, staring at me with a strange mix of concern and confusion on his face. He shrugs it off quickly and turns around. I take a moment to follow him, but eventually we reach the back of the library where we were yesterday. He takes a seat and pulls out a book while I sit there, staring at him with bewilderment.

Eventually he sets his book down upside down and sighs, "What?"

"Why are you like this?" I ask, sitting with my legs up on my seat.

"Like what, Isabel?" He responds with an annoyed tone, clearly not feeling any better than earlier.

"Like," I motion with my hands, "Grumpy and stubborn, and annoyed- it's getting on my nerves."

"I don't understand why you didn't just take the money?"

"Really?" I laugh, "This is still about lunch?"

"Yes," He says a little louder, but quietens down when he remembers we're in a library, "I was trying to do a nice thing."

"The polite thing is to decline..." I tell him, "Is it not?"

He sighs a little louder than the first time and leans back in his chair, his hands now resting on his legs, "Fine. Sure, it is."

"But you're still annoyed," I point out.

"It's just one of those days, don't worry," He smiles, and I buy it for now – he doesn't seem like he wants me to push it, and I think I've pushed it enough today.

"So what are you reading?" I change the subject. I'm thankful that there's no longer any annoyance surrounding us.

"Junkie," He tells me, "Burroughs."

"I've read Queer," I say, "But not that one."

His eyes light up when I tell him I'm familiar with the author and he smiles a little more, "You can borrow it when I finish."

"Sure," I smile back.

Instead of sitting here for an hour, I fish out the psychology textbook from my backpack; the only book that weighs more than I can carry. I read through the textbook, refreshing my memory with psychological terms, but in all honesty I feel a little overwhelmed as I attempt to process it all. I feel bad when I pull my head up and disrupt Matty from his reading, but I really don't feel like doing schoolwork.

"So what do you guys do at your place on Wednesday nights?" I ask.

He looks up without seeming annoyed, but I bite my lip in fear of him getting mad again; "Mostly just watch movies... it's pizza week."

"What is it other weeks?"

"Thai, sometimes Chinese, sometimes we just have pasta- Italian week."

I smile with a small laugh, "That's cool," and I want to say something more, but I'm stuck on how to keep the conversation going.

"You do eat pizza, right?" He asks.