//Apartment 102//

//midnight, car lights//

Shit. Pregnant? I had no idea what to say to Matty. I had no idea how to calm him down from this state he had worked himself into. Never before had I had a friendship in which someone trusted me enough to confide in me their problems. I was in uncharted territory.

Still, I felt the need to do something to comfort the messy haired boy on my couch. I lit another cigarette and rested my head on his shoulder.

"You said you fucked up, on the phone... what did you mean by that?"

He sighed, lighting a cigarette of his own. "I just... did something I shouldn't have."

Well that's vague. I inhale the smoke from my cig, and hold it up, offering it to him. "You know, I've gotten into some shit in my day, there isn't a whole lot you could tell me you did that I would judge you for."

Matty takes the cig from me and puts it to his lips. We stay like that for a moment, in silence, my head on his shoulder.

I break the silence, deciding to give him a little encouragement.

"Do you wanna know why I moved to Manchester?" I pause, so I can grab the cigarette as he offers it to me. "I ran away. I ran from everything. I ran from people. I ran from things. Fuck, I ran from myself."

Matty had become a really good friend of mine, as had George, but I still was not entirely comfortable disclosing the majority of my past and my reasons for coming to 102. However, Matty had called me at his moment of weakness. He trusted me in his fragile state. I owed him something. Plus, maybe if he could relate to me in some way, he would be more inclined to actually tell me what the fuck had happened to him.

I finish the cigarette, snubbing it out in the ashtray before continuing. "I did a lot of shitty things, hung around alot of shitty people, and made a lot of shitty choices. I didn't want to be that person anymore, so I ran. My point is, we all fuck up. I'm the queen of bad fucking decisions."

Silence filled the room again, the only noises being our breathing, and the constant ticking of the clock on my wall. His head came down to lean on mine.

"I used to get into some shit" he starts, his voice is quiet and shakey, as if he's nervous. "Sniff, mainly. Quit it awhile ago." He pauses. "Until last night."

"I've gotten into my far share of shit too, Matty.... it's gonna be alright." I pause, thinking of what I could possibly say to make him feel better. "How long ago did you and Gemma break up?"

"Been about 5 months."

"And she just now realized she was having your kid?"

"She said she's known, just didn't know how to tell me."

"You know, Matty, 5 months is a long time. It might not even be yours."

"But it still very well might be."

I didn't know what to say to that. He was right. However, being a girl, I don't understand how you could know you were pregnant for five months and not tell the guy who knocked you up.

Matty's voice sounds so weak. If he was doing coke all night then he probably hasn't slept, or eaten. The boy probably feels like shit, physically and mentally.

"Are you hungry?" I move my head to look up at him.

"Not really."

"You probably feel like shit, do you wanna shower or something? I have sweatpants and t-shirts that I'm sure would fit you. You said you didn't wanna see George... you could stay the night here if you wanted."

"I don't want to be a bother."

"It wouldn't be a bother at all, Matty." I smile "I just want you to be okay" I add, quietly.