by Tucker, RH
“Nothing,” I whisper.
“So?”
He stares at me, that slight grin across his lips knowing I’m about to cave. If this were under normal circumstances, I might not be so conflicted with having him over. I mean, I’ve brought friends over before, and Veronica and Cindy are over all the time. I’ve even brought a guy home to meet my dad a couple times. But this isn’t like any of that. Matt has a secret, which I’m fine with if we’re just friends. But we aren’t just friends. I don’t know what we are. Then an idea hits me.
“Okay, fine,” I agree, making his smile spread from ear to ear. “But, you have to stay for dinner.”
“Done.”
“With my dad.”
His smile evaporates. “Excuse me?”
“Those are the terms. You want to see the sausage made; you gotta stay for dinner. We usually order pizza on Mondays.”
“With your dad?”
“Yeah,” I bat my eyes, smiling. Now it’s my turn to act like I don’t have a care in the world. “What’s the big deal?”
“Isn’t that like …”
“Like what?”
“You know … a boyfriend thing or something?”
“It can be.” I suppress a laugh. “I mean, I introduced him to my last boyfriend.”
His attitude suddenly shifts as he straightens his shoulders. “Your last boyfriend?”
“Yes, Matt. I have had a boyfriend before. Being Mr. President doesn’t mean you’re the only guy that goes out with the girls at our school.”
“I-I know that.” I have to bite my lip in order to not laugh at how self-conscious he gets.
“Don’t worry, I won’t introduce you as my boyfriend. Wouldn’t want the rumors to spread about you dating a nerd girl,” I tease.
“I wouldn’t care about those rumors.”
“That’s right. You’d only care if the rumors were about you.”
He tilts back, sending a groan into the air. “I thought we were past all this.”
“We are.” I smile, pulling out my phone. “Fine, here.” I send a text to him with my address. “How’s five sound?”
“Sounds good to me.” His grin returns.
I start my car and pull out of the parking lot, wondering how I can be smiling today when last week I was balling my eyes out.
It’s only a few hours until Matt’s supposed to show up, but the time drags on forever. Getting home, I let dad know I invited a friend over who’s interested in how I make my videos. Hey, it’s partially true. He nods, as he works away at his computer desk, the multiple screens displaying different programs he’s running. He runs his own computer support business, so there’s always computers and computer parts all over his office.
Doing a quick sweep of my room, I organize my shelves and dresser. I’m not a neat freak, but I do try to keep things in order. Well, except for my desk, which is where I film and edit and have papers strewn about, post-it notes, and other pieces of scratch paper littered everywhere. I organize as best I can before doing one more scan of my room. I think back to Matt’s room, and how everything seemed to be in perfect order and I’d followed him home with no advance notice. Then again, he does have a housekeeper. Did she organize his figures and his desk and everything? I shake my head, trying to come to my senses.
Matt isn’t my boyfriend. As pleasant an idea as that is, he can’t be. He isn’t free to be who he really is, and that’s because of him. I pull my comforter over my bed, straightening it out. I wonder if we’ll end up on my bed the same way we ended on up his–No. Izzy, stop thinking about that. I turned him down to going out and to prom. I shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him again.
Only, the thing is, I do want to go out with him. I was so shocked when he asked me to prom I nearly blurted out yes right then and there. But going with him, being with him, means I have to keep his secret. I’ll have to pretend he’s someone else. Someone who everyone in school thinks he is, when I just want him to be who I know he really is. How in the world the significant others of superheroes keep their secrets, I have no idea.
“Hey, Isabel?” my dad’s voice calls out, a tone that sets off alarms.
He usually calls me Iz or Izzy and only saves ‘Isabel’ for when I’m either in trouble or we have to have serious talks. I walk into the living room and see Matt standing by the door, looking more nervous than I’ve ever seen before.
“Oh, hey,” I wave, before catching my dad’s concerning look. “Daddy, I told you a friend was coming over.”
“Yes, you did.” He nods. “You neglected to tell me it was a boy friend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” I reply, and Matt looks at me with a small quirk of his lips.
“Fine, a guy friend.” Dad folds his arms, staring at Matt.
“Yes, sir.” Matt flashes his confident smile and extends his hand. “I’m Matt. Matt Hillard.”
His smile seems to wane, as my dad keeps staring at him. I’ve seen this before. The last time I brought a guy home to meet him was last year, my last boyfriend. Dad made it a point to act standoffish.
“And you’re interested in Isabel’s YouTube channel?” His arms stay crossed, not believing it.
“Yes, sir.” Matt nods, dropping his hand. “I’m kind of a geek myself.”
“Oh,” Dad seems to ease, unfolding his arm. “Oh, so you’re into all that stuff.”
“Yes.”
“Oh, all right then.” He finally extends his hand to Matt, who shakes it with a confused look. “I’m Charlie.”
Dad moves to the side and motions for Matt to come in. I wave for Matt to follow me and turn to walk down the hallway. Looking behind, I see Matt looking at the pictures we have on our walls, and I wonder what he thinks of my house. His place was immaculate, and while ours isn’t dirty or anything, it just seems like a standard home to me. Cozy.
“All right, McFanboy.” I toss a smirk at him as I motion to my door. “This, as they say, is where the magic happens.”
I hear him chuckle as I open the door and let him walk in first. My dad’s office is on the other side of the house, next to our living room, but I still want a bit of privacy. Why, Izzy? Nothing is going to happen. I shake the thought away and shut my door, so it’s only cracked open.
Looking back, Matt watches me and grins. “What?”
“Nothing.” He turns back around, taking in the room. “Okay, before I dig into all this, I have to ask; what was that about?”
“What was what about?”
He nods at my door. “One second your dad looked ready to tear my head off and as soon as he found out I’m into all this stuff, he thinks I’m harmless?”
“Oh.” I laugh, leaning against my desk. “He thinks nerds are harmless.”
“Really?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Yeah, well, anyone I’ve brought over to see all this,” I wave around the room, “is usually a girl. One of my friends. Like, Cindy and Veronica.”
“Oh.”
“And the last guy that came over was my ex-boyfriend, last year. He wasn’t into this stuff at all.”
“How long did you guys go out?” Matt takes a step back, sitting on my bed. My eyes shoot from him to the bed, as memories of his room hit me. “Sorry.” He gives me a nervous look. “Is this okay?”
“Um, yeah.” I look away, pulling out the chair by my desk.
He’s on your bed. Be cool. Don’t stare at his lips.
“So?”
“Oh, um, a couple months.”
“And he wasn’t into all your geek paraphernalia.”
His grin infects me, and I smile back. “No, definitely not. I mean, he didn’t mind it, but it just wasn’t his thing. He was into sports and the normal guy stuff.” Matt raises an eyebrow at me. “You probably know him. Sean Tate?”
“Wait, hold up.” Matt puts up a finger. “You went out with Sean Tate? All-state running back who got offers from UCLA, USC, and Oregon State last year?”
“That’s him.”
&
nbsp; “Wow, Iz. Dating older guys. I’m impressed.”
“Shut up.” I laugh. “He might’ve been a senior last year, but he was only eight months older than me.”
“Why’d you guys …” He looks away. “Never mind. None of my business.”
“What?”
He scratches the side of his head. “Why’d you guys break up?”
“He ended it,” I say, feeling totally at ease with the subject. I was really hurt last year when it happened, but the more time went on, I came to realize we didn’t have much in common. There was an attraction, but other than that, nothing.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I wave him off. “He used the long-distance thing as an excuse, but I kind of saw it coming. If I’m being honest, there wasn’t ever really a spark or anything there. He asked me out, we went out for a while, and that was that.”
Matt keeps his eyes on me, intently focused, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Does the fact that I went out with someone he used to know change things? I turn around in my chair to face my desk, trying not to think about that because it doesn’t matter anyways. We’re not dating.
“Anyways, this is my main setup here,” I say, flipping open my laptop. “I record most of my stuff on my iPhone or my laptop and use editing software to edit the videos.”
I open a folder of older videos I have saved and open the editing program. I’m not exactly sure what I should show him or if he knows how the software works. As I open a past video, I hear a click and turn around to see him browsing one of my book shelves, holding a Trigun figure.
“Vash the Stampede.” He smiles. “Nice.”
“He was my favorite before I discovered Spike and Cowboy Bebop.”
“Good choice.” He looks over at me, before perusing the books lining my shelf. “Wow, a bit of a Marvel fan, are we?”
“Hey, I saw your books. You’ve got just as many.”
“True.” He moves across the room. “Okay, you’ve got me beat when it comes to being a Whovian.”
I follow him over to the shelf I have lined with different Doctor Who collectibles.
“That’s right; you didn’t have much Doctor Who stuff. Not a fan?”
“I like the show, but haven’t really watched the old stuff. Just the new ones when it started back up.”
“Are you caught up?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then, favorite Doctor?”
He flashes that smile again and as if on cue, the warmth spreads inside. Stop it, Izzy.
“Eleven. Definitely Eleven.”
“What?” I scoff.
“Don’t tell me; you’re Ten?”
“Of course.” I walk over and grab my figure of David Tenant in his Doctor Who pinstripe suit, wearing 3D glasses. “Ten is the best.”
“No way, Matt Smith is awesome. Geronimo!” he yells, making me laugh.
“You just like him because you guys have the same name.” I giggle. “Eleven was good, but Ten will always be my Doctor.”
“Fair enough.”
I put the figure back down as Matt keeps his eyes on me. I should take a step back, but as I lean forward, my arm brushes against his and a current zips through me. My body betrays me as I look back up at him again, finding his lips. Why do I keep staring at his lips? Oh, that’s right, because they felt amazing on mine. He leans closer and my body freezes. I want to take a step back, but I also want to take a step forward.
“Pizza’s here!” I hear my dad call from the front of the house, but Matt stays locked where he is.
“We should probably go out,” I finally eek out only to see Matt smile and raise his brow. “I mean eat. We should probably go eat.”
“Okay,” Matt agrees with a half-smile.
“So, Matt, school’s almost finished. What do you plan on doing?” I’ve seen Dad give guys the third degree, but his tone is friendly, which keeps me from getting too nervous. Matt seems more comfortable than I thought he’d be as well.
“Um, I’m not exactly sure.”
“Really?” I perk up. “No future in politics?” I laugh, as my dad gives me a confused look. “He’s the class president, Daddy.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” Matt answers. “But, no. No politics. I just did it to appease my dad.”
“Oh?” Dad takes a bite of his pizza.
“Yeah, he’s a lawyer. He wants me to do something along those lines and wanted me to do mock trial or something that would give me some experience, but law doesn’t really interest me. So, this year I told him I’d run for ASB because it’s at least something.”
“So, no politics. No law. What are you interested in?”
Dad’s question is harmless, and as he sets his slice down to take a drink, he patiently waits for Matt’s answer. Matt squirms in his chair, and I can read the unease on his face.
“I’m not sure,” he answers, looking down at his plate.
His brow knits together as if he is trying to think of something, but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. I know that’s not what my father is trying to do, even if he feels like it.
“Matt plays football too.”
“Really? What position?”
“Wide-receiver.”
“Great.” Dad smiles. “I played when I was in high school. Running back.”
“Oh, running back.” Matt looks over at me with a teasing smirk.
“Yep.” Dad takes another bite of his pizza. “And don’t worry about not knowing what stuff you’re interested in right now. You’re young still. I didn’t know what I wanted to do until Izzy was a couple years old.”
Matt looks at my dad, suddenly very interested. “Really? You didn’t know you wanted to work with computers?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “I mean, I always liked them. But, I puttered around, job to job, still unsure. It pissed my parents off, me not going to college right away. ’Scuse the language.” Matt smiles, waving that it’s okay. “But, yeah, I really tried to focus on something when Isabel came along. And the more I worked on computers and helped friends and family out with them, the more natural it felt. So, don’t worry about it. Which colleges did you apply to?”
“Um.” Matt’s apprehension returns. “I actually didn’t fill out any applications.”
“You didn’t?” I spit out.
I don’t mean for it to sound so shocking, but it truly catches me off guard. I know he has good grades. He has the extra-curricular activities that would impress anyone looking over a college application. And just on the outside, it looks like his family can afford college for him.
“No.” Matt shakes his head, not meeting my eye line. “I’m interning at my dad’s law firm this summer, but after that, I’ll probably just take some classes at IVC.”
“That’s still a good plan,” Dad says, sounding more encouraging. I watch Matt as he tries to smile. “You’re planning on going to IVC still, right, Izzy?”
“Yep,” I answer. “Get some credits out of the way and maybe transfer for my bachelors. But I really like my channel too, so who knows. Probably take some marketing stuff.”
“That’s cool.” Matt smiles, but it seems forced. “You’ve got a plan, that’s more than I can say for myself.”
I’m suddenly hit with a thought. “Have you ever thought about costume design?”
“Costume design?” Dad gives me a curious look, as Matt stares blankly.
“Matt was in New York, at the comic convention. He designed this incredible Iron Man costume.”
“It was okay.” Matt looks away, and it almost looks like he’s blushing.
“Nu-uh,” I smile at him, then turn to my dad. “It was amazing. He won first place.” Looking back at Matt, he seems to stare at me with appreciation. “You’re really good at it.”
“Might be something to think about,” Dad adds. “Izzy’s got a good eye for all that stuff.”
Matt gives me that smile that melts my insides again, and I have to forcibly r
emind myself that I’m sitting at the table with my father.
We all talk a little bit more, and I actually get to learn more about him and his family. We haven’t really talked about personal stuff, so it’s nice getting to know the real him.
We even venture into a little more serious talk when Matt asks about my mom. I tell him about how she died when I was five. I remember crying a lot, visiting her in the hospital when she was going through chemo, but it’s so long ago that it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. We briefly discuss how my two aunts helped out when I needed ‘girl time’ or to figure out ‘lady stuff’. Those are the words I use too, because I really don’t want to talk about training bras or periods in front of Matt. Or my dad, for that matter, any more than he’s already heard over the years.
The conversation switches back to his parents and their divorce, and how he only sees his mom a few times a year.
“That’s why I was in New York. Isaac and I were visiting my mom for the week.”
“Other than the costume contest, how’d you enjoy the convention thingy?” Dad asks.
“Daddy, you know for being such a computer nerd, you sure don’t keep up with the real geek stuff.”
“Excuse me.” He rolls his eyes. “All I need to know is Star Trek: The Original Series and the first three Star Wars movie and I’m allowed to keep my geek cred for life.”
We all laugh, and it feels so natural. Matt seems to get more comfortable as dinner goes on, especially since we aren’t talking about his future, and dad is much more pleasant than he usually is in front of guys who’ve met him before. Probably because I told him Matt isn’t a boyfriend. And he isn’t. But every time I hear Matt laugh or watch him smile, whether at me or not, I question everything I’ve told him and tell myself.
“Well, I better get going,” Matt says, taking a look at the time on his phone.
“Matt, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Dad gets up from the table, extending his hand to Matt, who shakes it.
“Yes, sir. It was nice meeting you too.”
