Misfits 2

Chapter 6 - Matt & Mr. Monticello

MATT

I feel like I might die. My heart has been ripped from my chest and stomped on. How can she do this to me? How can she be so cruel? Do I really mean nothing to her? Am I dead to her? All these thoughts fill my brain and I can't get them out. 

I find myself walking to Cam's house because I don't know where else to go. He's my best friend. He'll understand. He has to. 

Cam is sitting on the porch when I get to his house. He notices my tears and red face and stands up, waiting for me to walk through the gate. I collapse on the bottom step. 

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asks, sitting next to me. I hand him my phone and he reads the texts from Tori. "So she cancelled?"

I sigh. "She . . . lied." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize I'm a hypocrite. How can I be angry with her for the same thing that I've been doing to her? I clear my throat. "I was standing outside of Scoop waiting for her. The thing is, she came . . . but she saw Mr. Monticello and she got in a cab with him. She's going to fuck him, Cam."

He says, "You don't know that . . ."

I wipe my face. "You hear the way she talks about him . . . , the way she looks at him . . ."

"I'm sure it's just a phase," Cam reassures me, putting his hand on my back. "You'll get back together."

I shake my head. "I think it's really over this time."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

Again, I shake my head. "No. I'll . . . leave her alone. I'll just . . . I don't know . . ."

At that, Cam stands up. "No!" He stands in front of me. "You're not going to let this happen! You are not going to let the girl you love slip through your fingers! That's what you're not going to do. You're not going to let our English teacher take Tori from you. You love her. You need to show her that you do. Show her that you love her and fight for her!"

I stand up and nod. "You know what Cam? You're right!"

"Of course I'm right . . ."

"What are you gonna do?" Cam shouts, pumping his fist.

"Get Tori back?"

Cam yells even louder this time. "When are you going to do it?" I shrug. "God, you're killing the vibe. I'm trying to be enthusiastic here."

I frown. "How can I be enthusiastic when I'm out of ice cream?"

Cam starts rubbing his temples. "You're going to get fat."

"I don't care."

He sighs and says, "Come on. Get in the car. We're going to Scoop." He reaches in his pocket for his car keys.

I stand still. "I can't go back there."

Cam rolls his eyes. "What? You think they're gonna be there or something?" I don't say anything. "Well guess what? If they are then you hold him and I'll punch him. Tori can be mad at me all she wants to." I laugh. "That's better. Now get in, asshole."

MR. MONTICELLO

My head hurts. I shouldn't have drank so much. Never again.

I recall the night in bits and pieces. Chinese food and Christina. Shots alone in the bar. Talking to the bartender. Leaving and . . . seeing Tori. God, she's beautiful. I honestly have no idea how I got home. I must've walked or taken a cab. But, thankfully, I'm safe.

I stand up and look in the mirror. I even look like I had a rough night. There are bags under my eyes, my hair is a mess, and I'm still in the clothes I was wearing yesterday. I stretch and sigh. Next time I go to a bar, hopefully I won't drink so much. I feel like complete shit.

I get up to go to the bathroom and hear noise in the kitchen. There shouldn't be noise in the kitchen since I live alone. Maybe it's a mouse. Maybe it's Christie. Did I apologize and bring her home with me? Maybe I asked her to drive me home. I don't know.

I tiptoe into the kitchen and find Victoria Cruz standing in my kitchen with a coffee mug. I have to be dreaming. This is a dream. It has to be.

"Good morning," she says. "I made you some coffee . . . I wasn't sure how you take it, so I put a little bit of cream and sugar." 

I'm dreaming. This isn't real. Tori isn't standing in my kitchen right now. 

I force words out of my mouth. "What . . . happened?" 

"You were really drunk," she explains, "so I brought you home. You told me where you lived and I brought you here. I wasn't sure if I should leave you or not, so I slept on the couch. You were pretty fucked up."

"I'm sorry."

"It's cool."

"And thank you." She nods. "You didn't . . . tell anyone, did you?"

She shakes her head. "No. Don't worry. I won't say a word."

"It's just that . . . this looks pretty bad."

She says, "I know."

"How about I order some food . . . as a thank you?"

"Sure." She walks over to me and hands me the coffee mug. "Some food might help with that hangover."

Deep down, I know that a thank you was sufficient, but I want to do nice things for Tori. She's so beautiful and sweet and caring. No one has ever done something so nice for me. I don't even think Christie has and we were together for at least two years. 

Christie is a nice woman but she's older than me by three years. She's twenty eight and I always felt incompetent. She had her life together when I didn't. She had stability when I didn't. We broke up because I wasn't sure of what she wanted. I know that she wanted children but I wasn't ready. I'm not ready to be a father—not yet. Maybe, in a few years, I will be. But not right now.

As Tori talks to me about the things I said last night, I push Christie out of my mind. Even with smudged makeup, Tori still looks beautiful.

What am I doing?

Next stop, THE BOYS!