feather

three: so i can play matchmaker

Of course, I being the good-girl (up until I tried to fall off of a building) I was, got there fifteen minutes early and brought cupcakes. I was nervous to see Delia again, so I ended up eating three of the six I'd bought from Kroger. I was definitely going to have to drag Matthew to go jogging with me again. Maybe not, though, because when we did it was just him pulling me by the arms and me going boneless on him.

Delia Von Baron's name sounded like it came from an evil Disney movie villain, and she might as well have been. She was cunning, manipulative, and cruelly beautiful. I was strumming my fingers in a beat against the bench when she finally showed up from her after-school cross country practice.

She looked out of breath, but stunning as always. Her long, silky black hair was dyed ombre at the ends, and shined even in the crappy fluorescent lights. Her slanted dark eyes gleamed and her high cheekbones made her look like royalty that was about to condemn their subject to treason: namely, me.

"Jamie you hoe!" she squealed, wrapping her thin arms around me for a hug. "I'm so glad you're back! Why didn't you call me girl?"

"Hi Delia," I patted her on the back. "Sorry, it's just been really dramatic, you know? I brought cupcakes?"

"Damn it," she whined, eyeing them longingly. "Coach told us no extra sugars because we have a race on Saturday. Daddy's been baking me sugar-free granola bars and cookies, but you know... they just can't replace the real thing."

Delia had been one of my closest friends since before the incident, but I didn't want to talk to her afterwards because I figured she would shun me like everyone else did and it would be awkward. Her mom, Lin Mei Ting was a business tycoon; fluent in seven languages (Chinese (both the Mandarin and Cantonese variations), English, Korean, Japanese, Spanish, French, and Italian: seriously, this lady was superwoman), she was invaluable and one of the head CEO's for their wine-manufacturing company. Her father was a stay-at-home dad who was really cool, descended from British royalty, and had an English accent.

All around, her family was just super awesome. As a plus (or maybe a minus, since I didn't really agree with what my parents said most of the time), my father really liked me hanging around her and her family since it was good for business.

"We have to have a sleepover movie night soon!" Delia exclaimed, then pulled her hair out of its pony tail. It fell straight down into a perfect cascade. "That is, as long as you haven't turned lesbian as the rumors say you have," she joked, grabbing her backpack and sports bag. "Walk with me."

"I think I'm still strictly dickly," I replied, sweeping my comparatively poofy and bland brown hair to the side. "I quite enjoy hot guys."

"Speaking of hot guys," Delia said, "do you think you could set me up with your friend Matthew? He doesn't know it, but he FINE," she emphasized the last word. I guessed it was true; to be honest, I was usually so fixated on having Matthew's a) eye color and b) athleticness to notice anything else.

Still, the idea of Delia and Matthew together made my stomach churn. He was sort of like that ONE cup that was somehow better than the others and you always have to drink from and hated letting others use it. But why not? Delia might help bring out a louder and wilder side in Matthew, which would be good for him. He really needed to let loose every once in a while. He was uptighter than my grandma, who was ninety-three and lived in a retirement home.

"Sure! You two would such a cute couple," I gushed, already trying to think of a cute ship name for them. "Mattulia. No, Detthew. OH! How about-"

"Stop, gurl," Delia placated. "You have many talents, but for real, ship naming is not one of them."

"Fine," I conceded, mainly because she was right.

"How far do you think he'll go?" Delia mused, spinning a lock of slick hair around her finger. "Has he ever even kissed anyone? Or done the nasty?"

"I don't know, actually," I realized. Matthew never talked to me about his personal life. Then again, he was a guy and guys usually aren't touchy-feely. "Maybe, I mean... you're right, he is pretty attractive so he must have kissed someone at one point. There's no way he's had a tumble in the sack though," I clarified, almost certain. 

"Are we talking about me?"