𝗚𝗥𝗨𝗗𝗚𝗘 - 𝙼 𝚡 𝙺

10. Silent Thunder

𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂:

𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝟷𝟶:𝟹𝟺𝚊𝚖
ᴋᴀɪ
𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗍 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝗅𝖾𝗍'𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽.

Mattia's eyes slid over the words for what felt like the millionth time in the last 24 hours.

It was now 7:00am on Monday morning, and he was just preparing to leave for school, where he'd meet his soccer team and they'd depart for camp.

Kairi had sent Mattia that message early yesterday morning—the morning after the party. Mattia had been so hungover that he hadn't seen the message until later in the afternoon, when he'd first awoken. He wasn't sure how Kairi had managed to be awake and sending messages so early given that he'd also been in a bit of a rough state at the party.

Mattia wished so very badly that he hadn't gotten so drunk. Kairi wanted to 'forget it happened'—and that wasn't going to be a problem for Mattia, because as it was he could just barely remember what had happened anyway.

He knew vaguely what had transpired before he'd blacked out. His memory flashed with little confusing glimpses of the party:

Kairi's head buried in a red bucket, Mattia's hand on top of Kairi's smaller one, the words "he thinks you hate him, that's why!" shrill and unrelenting echoing off the walls of his mind.

But he had no idea what had lead to that—or what had really happened afterwards.

One minute he was trying to console Kairi. The next he was laying face down on Andrew's front lawn, feeling entirely heartbroken and not having a single clue as to why.

He also had a very brief, fleeting memory of Ale, leaning down towards him and promising to return with water.

But that was it. The rest of his memory had been completely wiped. God only knew what else had happened while he was out. He hoped with every fibre of his being that he hadn't done anything to further upset Kairi.

He didn't know much, but one thing that was certain about that night was the fact that someone thought Mattia hated them, and Mattia had a pretty good guess as to who.

Regardless, he hadn't found the courage to respond to Kairi's message. He willed himself to reply with something, anything, but every time he went to do so he found his throat begin to close up, his fingers stilling over the keyboard, unable to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. So he had left it.

Now his phone burned a hole in his pocket wherever he went—constantly a reminder that the message was still sitting there—unacknowledged and unanswered.

Mattia played with his fingers nervously, feeling entirely too high-strung for such an early hour of the morning as he sat at the breakfast table. He'd been sitting and moping for so long that his cereal had gone soggy.

He hardly felt hungry anyway.

The prospect of actually having to see Kairi again—which he would, in just under half an hour—made his heart beat almost embarrassingly fast.

He wasn't sure what to expect. Would Kairi be mad at him? Not that that would be any different from the past month of their relationship.

Maybe their friendship was beyond the point of salvation, but Mattia wanted this settled. Whatever 'this' was.