Leaving The Friendzone

Chapter 20

Matthews Dunlop.

I stared at the tray of a cheese sandwich, fries, and a carton of milk before me. I had lost my appetite. Not today. Yesterday, after Elena had said what she said. I realized I had lost it at night though when mom placed my favorite lasagna before me and I couldn't manage even a bite of it. And this morning as well, when the bowl of cereal I normally had right before I went to school was left untouched before me, the cereal getting soggy by the second because of the milk soaking it up.

"Eat your cereal, Matt," my mom had said, "or you won't like it anymore and we'd have to throw it away."

"I'm not in the mood." I'd told her.

"And I've asked you already, what is the problem, but you've still refused to talk to me." She stood in front of me worriedly.

"It's nothing," I muttered.

She sighed. "Matthew, I'm your mother. If something is bothering you, you know you can always tell me. You know I'd and can never do anything to hurt you further, regardless of what it is."

I wanted to tell her. Right then, at that moment, I just wanted her to know it all, but the moment I opened my mouth to let her know why my mood had been sore all night, a forceful thought came to my mind, "No."

"It's nothing," I breathed, looking up from my bowl of cereal to her.

"Is it, um, is it about your sexuality?" My mom asked, raking a hand through her hair.

I frowned at the first expression that'd come to my face aside from the moping one I had been carrying all through yesterday. "Sexuality?"

"You're not straight?" She held my gaze but I could see a slight tint of pink on both sides of her cheeks.

"What?" I blinked. "No, mom. I'm straight as a board."

"Then what is the problem, Matt?" She asked. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"It's nothing, mom, really," I said, still holding her gaze.

"Fine," she held her hands up in the air. "Have it your way, since you've refused to let me in."

I wish I could, I'd said to myself.

"Either way, finish up your breakfast," she added.

I drew back my seat, stood up, and grabbed my book bag. "It's soggy already, and I'm late for school anyway."

"Cereal is getting costlier, Matt," my mom grumbled as I turned away from the bowl of cereal and headed toward the front door.

"Bye, mom!" I called. "I love you!"

"Love you too, sweetie!"

So, there I was staring at my full lunch tray, my stomach grumbling in protest but my appetite seeming to be forever quenched. I had to eat anyway. I didn't last night and this morning, missing this afternoon might lead to serious problems health-wise and I didn't want to impose any extra charges on my family because of my best friend. Someone I thought was my best friend.

Elena looked me in the eye and told me to fuck off. It still felt surreal to me that she thought all I'd told her was some type of bullshit story I came up with to keep her away from KJ. Like I even had the time of the day to dedicate towards making up too good to be true stories. But aside from that, Elena has known me for eleven years. Not one, not two, eleven, and we've been best friends for seven out of the eleven years. Did she think I'd make that up? After knowing me for so long, that's what she thought? After knowing me for so long, she'd take me for a liar?

To say that I was highly disappointed in Elena wouldn't be putting it lightly. I'd never, ever in my next life, expected nor thought that Elena could be this way; all her judgment, all her reasoning clouded by the physical looks of some boy she'd barely known for two months.