by RH Tucker
“Sorry, I’m not allowed to help.” She grins.
“Read it again?” I say, and Matt pulls out the paper.
He starts reading under his breath until he gets to the bottom. “…given the spotlight. Just be sure to dress the part.”
“Wardrobe closet!” I yell. Cindy took drama freshman year, so I know there’s a huge closet somewhere in the drama building but have no idea where.
Flashing a worried look at the teacher, she smiles again. “That’s the key,” she says, pulling out a key and handing it to me. “Keep the key. Closet is on the second floor, all the way at the end.”
We both spin around and head to a small flight of stairs and run into a huge walk-in closet. Looking around, I skim through racks of clothing, looking for anything that looks like an envelope. It’s darker in the closet, with only one fluorescent tube lighting the area. Matt walks towards the end and scans another rack of clothes.
“I don’t see anything, do you?”
“No,” I answer, walking around a long line of different costumes.
At the end of the rack, there’s a mannequin set up with different colored boas wrapped around it and a hat on top. But attached to the chest with tape are two envelopes.
“Oh, here!” I call out, and Matt rushes around to it. “Only ours and Sam and Natalie's are left. You think we’re far behind?”
“Maybe, but we can still catch up.”
He reaches for our envelope and hands it to me again.
“Okay.” I open it and start to read it when both of our phones buzz. Worried eyes shoot to Matt, as he pulls out his phone, before giving me a slight frown.
“Someone finished?”
“Yeah.” He nods. “Sarah and Bret.”
“Sorry.” I fold up the envelope, slipping it into my pocket.
“Don’t be.” He reaches over and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry we didn’t get you those extra votes.”
“Yeah, right.” I snort, making him smile wider. “I definitely don’t need to be prom queen.”
“You should be,” he says, letting go of my hand and running it over some of the costumes. “See anything in here that would go with your dress?”
“Actually, I do,” I answer, keeping my eyes on him.
“Oh yeah, what?” He rummages through a few pieces. When I don’t answer, he looks back at me, and it registers what I mean. “Oh really?” He gives me a flirty smile.
“Maybe.”
“You know, I can see those smoldering eyes anytime I want now?”
I turn my head to the side. “How’s that?”
He pulls his cell phone out and unlocks it, flashing me the screen.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.” His grin encompasses his face.
I reach for the phone, but he jerks his hand away, raising it in the air. “Matt, you can’t do that.”
“Why not? You sent it to me.”
“Yeah, but …” I reach again, knowing I won’t be able to reach it but still clawing at his arm. “That’s private.”
“And it’ll stay private.” He laughs, wrapping an arm around me, keeping his other arm high in the air. “It’s for my eyes only. That’s why I locked my phone.”
I stop struggling for the phone but stay close to him. “Fine.” I pout my lips.
“You should feel honored.”
“Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because I replaced my Selena Gomez wallpaper with you.”
I scoff, trying my best to act like I’m insulted when I actually feel a little flattered. Not so much that he replaced his previous wallpaper, but that he even put my picture on his phone at all. Knowing he wants it there, to look at me whenever he wants, sends a shiver through my body. I look up at him, meeting his eyes, before finding his lips. Bringing my hand up to his chest, I feel his hold around me tighten. Somehow, the large, dim closet feels smaller. And darker. He slips his phone into his back pocket, before reaching up, his thumb brushing across my cheek then tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Reaching my hands up, my fingers slide across his jaw, feeling the stubble that he hasn’t shaven away in a couple days, before clasping my fingers behind his neck. Slowly, he lowers his head down, resting his forehead against mine.
“Iz,” he breathes out my name. “I … you …” His Adam’s apple bobs, as he closes his lips.
“What is it?”
“I …” he tries again, but his words falter.
I’m not sure what he’s going to say or why he’s hesitating. Maybe he thinks the same thing I do, and just doesn’t want to get into an argument again. Or maybe he’s going to ask me out again. No matter what it is, I’m fully intent on answering with a resolute yes to any and everything. But there aren’t any more words.
His lips find mine, and I let out an involuntarily moan, finally being able to savor his lips again. As soon as they touch mine, my body is on fire, and I never want the flame to go out. I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, wanting whatever space there is between us to disappear forever. His tongue slides across my bottom lip, and I welcome it with mine. His hands run up my waist and then down, clamping around my butt, sending even more excitement through my body.
His lips break away from mine for a moment, but only to travel down my chin, then along my jaw and down my neck. After one last kiss along my neck, his mouth finds mine again, and I take a small nibble out of his bottom lip. Our tongues find one another, as his hands roam up my back, my fingers running through his hair.
I could stay in this closet with Matt for hours, days even. But we’re interrupted as someone comes in through the door.
“I’m an overachiever, what can I say.” I hear Natalie’s voice coming towards us. “I know they won, but still—oh!” She stops in her tracks, looking between Matt and me.
“What is it?” I hear Sam say behind her, before finally coming into view.
“Sorry,” Natalie squeaks, before turning around and ushering Sam out.
Matt looks at me with a lopsided grin. “Always getting interrupted.”
I feel my face on fire, but know it isn’t from being caught with him. “We should probably get going.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he answers, keeping his gaze on me.
I walk around the rack of clothes, towards the door. As I get to the doorway, I turn around and see Matt still standing in the same place, resting an arm on the rack, biting his lip nervously.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “You go ahead. I, uh … I need a couple minutes,” he says as he shifts.
“Oh.” I pinch my lips together, feeling a new wave of heat flash over my face. “Okay.” I smile back at him as he keeps a playful smile on me.
Chapter 30
Matt
I think I’m falling for you.
Those are the words that I couldn’t get out. As soon as my lips parted, I got scared. And nervous. As much as I’m normally calm and collect around girls, Izzy does something completely different to me. Ever since telling Carter and Lucas about myself and her, I’ve been feeling like I should just do it. Just accept her prom ultimatum. Even if the rest of the school saw me and laughed their asses off, I’d still have my closest friends. And I’d still have Izzy.
I tried a second time to spit out the words, but we were past words by then. Only a couple seconds went by, but everything shifted, and I couldn’t stop. We couldn’t stop. Her hands were on me, my arms were wrapped around her, and I could smell that scent that always got me. Her lips tasted as good as I remembered. No, even better. And I didn’t notice exactly how worked up I got until Natalie barged in on us. Thankfully, she and Sam left quickly, and then I had to let my um … excitement, die down.
Even with that embarrassing tidbit, I’m ecstatic the rest of the day. And I’m not nervous about what I’m feeling anymore. I’m embracing it. I’ve known I liked her, but I know after the costume closet, it’s more than that. There�
�s something beyond words going on between us. So, screw my facade. I have to tell Izzy that I’ll go to prom dressed as Spike, or a Ninja Turtle, or however she wants me to go, as long as I go with her. As long as she knows how I really feel about her.
I head straight to the parking lot after school to find her before she leaves, grinning at just the thought of being able to spend time with her when we go to prom. The grin disappears as I see Oscar talking to her, leaning against her car. My feet freeze by the gate as I watch her eyes on him. First suspiciously, then she raises her eyebrows, almost in shock. A small smile creeps across her face, and he says something that makes her laugh. He leans closer to her, almost like he’s going to kiss her, but she pulls back, and he straightens up.
What. The. Hell.
His car’s parked two spaces over, and he walks over to it, getting in. Before he leaves, he rolls his window down and waves at her, saying something else.
I take a deep breath and finally get my feet to work again, heading over to her. She sees me and smiles, looking as if everything is fine. It’s been less than two hours since the costume closet, but I feel like everything has changed.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she answers, smiling.
“Were you just talking to Oscar?”
She looks to where he was parked then back at me. “Oh, yeah.”
“About what?”
“Nothing, really. It was weird, actually. He asked about prom.”
“About prom?” My brows shoot up. “Like, asking about it, or asking you?”
“I don’t know.” She chews on the inside of her lip, staring at me. “I think me.”
“He asked you to prom?”
“Yeah.” Her tone shifts, giving me an uneasy look.
“What’d you say?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” My voice gets louder.
Crossing her arms, I can tell she’s getting upset, but I’m already there. “Yes. I don’t know. It’s not like I have a date to prom, right?”
“Well, no, but …” I lose my words, shaking my head.
“But what, Matt?”
“What about us?”
Her arms stay folded as her eyes scan my face in confusion. “Us?”
The anger’s dying down, replaced by annoyance. “Yes. Us.”
“What about us? You turned me down, remember?”
“Isabel, I didn’t turn you down. If anything, you turned me down.”
“Really?” She tilts her head to the side. “Because as I remember it, I told you I would go with you. All you had to do was dress in a certain suit.”
“Fine.” I run a hand through my hair, taking another deep breath. “Then what about the other stuff?”
“What other stuff?”
My jaw drops. “Oh, I see. We’re just hooking up when no one’s around, making out in costume closets, but it’s no big deal.”
She looks as insulted as I feel. “You know that’s not true.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Really? I can’t even …” She looks at the ground, shaking her head.
“Oh, but you can with Oscar?”
A sudden jolt gets sent through me, and not the good kind, as her hand swings quickly across my cheek. “At least he’s real.”
“Yeah, a real dickhead.”
“Better an authentic dickhead than someone too afraid to be who they are.”
Aaaand, we were back to this again. Shit. How did this happen, when just a couple hours ago I was ready to confess my love to this girl?
But I don’t have any more words. She doesn’t either. She scowls at me as she gets in her car and drives away. Walking over to my car, I swing open the backseat door and throw in my backpack, then slam it shut. Letting out another sigh, I kick the tire, cursing under my breath.
I’m still fuming as I get home and it doesn’t help that today of all days, my dad decides to be home in the afternoon for once.
“Matt?” he calls out from his office.
“Yeah,” I answer, heading to the hallway, happy to just try and ignore him.
“Come in here for a minute.”
Dropping my bag on the couch, I head to his office. Pushing the door open, he sits behind his desk, a mountain of paperwork there as his pen glides over a smaller stack.
“What’s up?” I say curtly.
“You tell me,” he answers, not taking his eyes off the stack of papers.
“Uh, I just got home. I don’t know.”
“Okay,” he says as he sets the pen down and folds his fingers over the papers.
He’s a thin and fit man, late forties. My mom always said I look just like him, except he’s had this bushy mustache for as long as I can remember. I asked him when I was younger why he never shaved. He said it gives him a more authoritative look when he’s in the courtroom.
“I haven’t heard any more about the applications.”
Damn it. I was really hoping he wouldn’t notice that since no one knows. Well, Izzy knows, but I don’t really want to think about her right now. Actually, I do, and I don’t.
“Matt?”
“Oh, yeah. I think they’re still processing or something.”
“Really?” He eyes me, suspiciously.
My father isn’t a simpleton. One of the best defense lawyers in the area, he also knows when people are lying. I’m almost positive he knows something is up, but I’m hoping he just lets it go. Unfortunately, he doesn’t.
“Yeah,” I lie. “You know, admissions offices can take a while and—”
“Don’t bullshit me.” His tone is direct, and my mouth snaps shut. “Did you forget, I have a friend in UC Irvine’s admissions office. He said they never received an application from you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. What about UCLA? UCR? Hell, even Fullerton? Matt, did you apply to any of them?”
“Uh … no.” The word comes out as soft as a whisper.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why not, Matt?” His voice hits a stern note, making me look back at him.
“Because, I don’t know, Dad! I have no clue what I want to do.”
“Which is why I’ve been telling you to do those debates and mock trials at school.”
“I don’t want to be a lawyer.”
“It’s a good profession.”
“Yeah,” I scoff. “There’s no doubt about that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shake my head. “Look, you and mom get Isaac and me whatever we want. I’m thankful, okay? I’m grateful for everything, but I don’t want to do law.”
“Then what do you want to do?” My eyes find the carpet in his office, as I just shake my head. “Come on, Matt. You’ve got to have some idea.”
“I don’t!” I yell.
I’ve never been in an argument before with him, even if some of our conversations have been a little terse. But this entire conversation, after the shit-show that just played out with Izzy, is infuriating. He lifts a brow, giving me a silent warning.
“I have no clue what I want to do, okay? I’m sorry, but I don’t.”
The silence builds up between us. My eyes roam everywhere from the ground to the walls, to his desk, but he never says anything. Then, when I finally met his gaze again, he decides to speak up.
“I can probably pull some strings and get you into UCI.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was thinking of just going to IVC. Taking some classes, until I figure it out.”
“Irvine Valley? Matt, you’d just have to transfer to get a degree anyways.”
Taking a deep breath, I remember Izzy’s dad. How he said it took him a while to figure out what he wanted to do, but eventually he did. I also remember Izzy suggesting costume design. I’d never thought about that before, but I do like doing it. But I have no blueprint or outline. I don’t even have a rough draft of what I want to do with my life.
“
It’s the only plan I got.”
Meeting my gaze, he stares at me, letting the silence fill the room once again. I’m not sure if I should just leave or he’s waiting to say something. Right as I’m about to take a step, he unfolds his hands, picking up his pen again.
“Okay, son. If that’s what you want.”
“Yeah.” I turn around and leave his office.
Sulking all the way towards my room, I fall on my bed and stare at the ceiling. At least now he knows I’m not going to some high-priced college. My thoughts drift back to the dinner with Izzy and her dad again. She seemed shocked I didn’t apply to any colleges, but it didn’t seem like she was annoyed. Or embarrassed. Or even a little put off. She just accepted it. Even if my father said okay, I know he’ll probably try to talk to me about it later. But she just accepted everything about it. More than accepted, she embraced it, even when I didn’t.
Throwing my arm over my face, I clench my teeth, letting out a frustrated growl. I was such a jackass today and now I probably just hand-delivered her as Oscar’s prom date. The thought hits me to call or text her, but would that be enough? No, I have to do it in person. Tomorrow. I’ll apologize and tell her how stupid I am and hope she’ll still go to prom with me.
“Hey, dude.” Oscar comes up to me at the end of first period.
I’ve done a good job of ignoring him the entire class, hoping to just keep him out of my mind. I haven’t heard anything from Izzy, and I know she might still be upset, but I’m focused on telling her today.
“I just want to make sure we’re cool,” he says as we walk out of the room.
“Cool?”
“Yeah.” He raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t gonna do anything, because I thought you and that Izzy girl were, like, hooking up or something.”
I jerk to a stop. “That Izzy girl?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Dude, her name’s Isabel. Or Izzy. Not, ‘that Izzy girl’.”
He lets out a condescending chuckle. “Well, yeah, I know that. See, this is why I wasn’t going to say anything. You’re all, like, overprotective or something. Like you guys are going on out.”
“Well, we’re not,” I spit out, annoyed more at myself for not manning up already.
