I spent the weeks following the event at the park hanging out with Matt. He was more than happy to spend time with me - I think he thought it made him "cool" to be friends with an older kid - and seeing as I didn't know anyone else except the douche from across the road, I saw no reason as to why I shouldn't get to know the kid better.
I learnt that his last name was Webb, and, as it turned out, he played guitar. And he played it damn well. In fact, I'd go so far at to say that Matt was the best 13 year old guitar player I had ever met. When I say this kid could play, I m not exaggerating.
We sat in his basement most days, and I would watch as he played songs I had never even heard of. He'd tell me each and every band after finishing the song, telling me I should listen to blink-182, Foo Fighters, Bowling For Soup, and even more. Whenever he played their albums, I was impressed by just how mature this kid's music taste was. Whereas back in Alberta me and my friends would listen to the latest top 40 pop hits, this kid was two years my junior and loving songs that had been around for years.
"September?" he asked one day, legs draped horizontally across mine as he strummed chords randomly into nothingness.
"Yeah, Matty?" I responded, looking over in his direction. For the past few minutes before he had spoken up, we had been sat in a comfortable silence.
"Do you think we'll still be friends once school starts?" he was picking at the side of his guitar now, concern evident in his voice. "It's just, I'm not too good at making friends. Nobody really likes me, and being friends with you would mean I'm not alone. It's just... I'm scared you'll find new friends."
"Of course we'll still be friends, Matt" I reassured him, rubbing his arm and giving him a sideways smile to let him know it was okay. "Even if I get a hundred new friends, you'll still be the first friend I made in the 'Couve."
"The 'Couve?" he laughed, his worries now faded away. "I've never heard anyone call it the 'Couve before."
"Now you have" I beamed, pushing his legs off of me and standing up. "C'mon, let's go do something, I'm bored."
We rushed up the stairs, passing Matt's mom on the way. She was quite suspicious of me at first, given the fact that I'm 2 years older than her son, and obviously much more mature. It didn't take her long, however, to realise that I was not in any way a danger to her son, and now she was more than happy for us to be friends.
"Mom, we're going out for a bit, is that okay?" he asked, stuffing water bottles and a few chocolate bars into his backpack.
"As long as you're back before nine, and you take your phone, I don't see why not." She smiled, patting me lightly on the shoulder as she passed me.