The New Guy

Books Books Books

Mattie's POV

"Why are you so pissy today?" I asked Lovi as he stomped to the field.

"Because of that asshole of a snowman."

"What does that even mean?" Tino asked, raising a brow in question.

"Gilbert, that idiot, pisses me off."

"What did he do?"

"Existed."

"What's with the past tense?" I'm honestly worried. Lovi's capable of many things. I'm legitimately sure he would kill a man if he wanted.

"Don't worry about it." He held an evil smirk.

"Lovi..." I warned.

"Fine, fine, I won't kill the bastard."

"Lovi!" A sudden raspy voice called out. Lovi froze up. I could swear I saw steam come out of him. A ball of white and red came running over and latched onto the poor guy. 

"Get off of me!" Lovi awoke from his frozen state. "Fucker, what are you doing here?"

"I was reading in this lovely little thing called nature." The albino-what's his name-Gilbert let go. "I also heard that the band is pretty good so I want to listen."

"Don't you have class?"

He giggled, "Silly, silly, Lovi, I have a free period." 

"Go back to reading then." 

"I will, I will, I just wanted to say hi." He looked over at me. "Hey Matthew, how are ya?"

"I'm pretty good actually, you?" I replied like a regular person. I struggled to keep a straight face though with seeing Lovi fuming out of corner of my eye. 

"I'm testing myself by reading the entire Harry Potter book series in a couple hours. You think I can do it?" He has to be joking.

"Maybe." 

"Wow, you are just the most optimistic unlike this asshole."He pointed at Lovi and cracked a grin. I'm pretty sure the poor Italian was on fire by this point. 

"Why thank you." I chuckled. "You better get reading if you want to achieve your goal."

"Shit, you're right." Realization seemed to hit him as he dropped the smile. "Well, see ya later!"

And he dashed off. Rather fast, actually. He is tall though so that's probably why.

"Mattie, you bitch." Right.

"What Lovi?" I turned and smiled ever-so innocently.

"You're a traitor."

"What? No!" I chuckled.

"Fuck you."

~

Personally, I like Gilbert. I mean, I know I barely just met the guy but we have some things in common. Like the love of red and art. Among other nerdy things.

I've picked up on his weird obsession with Harry Potter. There's a story there that I might ask about in the near future.

Doubt it. Only time will tell though.

Right now, I'd rather not focus on that. No, I'd rather focus on him reading the book. Either he read ahead in material for history or he knows it because the teacher has paid no mind to Gilbert furiously reading what I'm sure is the last in the Potter series.

His thin brows we're furrowed in concentration, red eyes moved at lightning speed, hair hanging down close but not covering, jaw tightened at times, and his pale hands held the book as if would be taken away. I noticed there were scars on his boney hand. A big one crossing through his knuckles, contrasting against the pale. 

"I see my hand is really interesting." I blinked and realized that he was looking at me. A serious look was on him. 

"I guess, yeah." I swallowed as his eyes narrowed in what I could only guess was suspicion. 

"It's the big one isn't it?" I nodded in response at the question. He sighed. "I cut myself trying to cut a tomato a few years back. It hurt like hell. And you know what my dad said to do?" He cracked a grin. "'Put a band-aid on it.'" Something about it seemed like a lie. Maybe that's because I don't entirely trust him since I met him like a day or two ago. Probably.

"Reminds me of my dad, actually." 

"How so?" He raised a brow. 

"I have a burn mark on my leg after his boiling tea spilled on me and all he said was-and I quote-'One day you're going to look back and know not to fuck with my tea.'" 

"What the hell is your dad?" 

"British."

"Ah, understandable." 

"Do you know any brits?"

"My friend, Francis, from back home knows one."

"That poor guy." 

"I know right."