opia; matty healy.

5%

Matty meets me on Wednesday, my third day attending school in Wilmslow, at my front gate once again. Only this time my father walks down the front pathway with me. At first he gives me a quizzical look, but I return it with one that says, "don't worry" as I roll my eyes. I introduce him to Matty, who admittedly looks a little terrified when I leave the house and I'm not alone.

"So how long have you lived in Wilmslow?" My father asks out of curiosity. He's never been one to question boys as my friends; both my parents have always trusted me to tell them if there is ever anyone of importance. Matty is not of that importance.

"Since I was seven," He replies quite casually and I admire him for keeping his cool after what looked like a mini internal panic attack.

They make small conversation for a minute or so before my father asks me if I'd still like a ride to school. I look at Matty who has pleading eyes and a soft smile.

"That's okay, I'll walk with Matty."

"Okay," He says without a second thought, wishes me a good day and walks towards his car parked by the sidewalk.

"Shall we?" Matty asks when I turn back and I nod, his arm instantly wrapping around my shoulders as I turn back to see if my father's left the street yet.

He hasn't started his car yet and I feel a little awkward with Matty's arm around me, as if my father might see. I've never had to explain anything like this to them before, and I know if my parents see they'll be curious as to why Matty's arm was around me. So I brush his arm off, grabbing it with my left hand and dropping it behind me.

"What's that for?" He asks, a hint of hurt that I'm sure is playful and innocent.

"My dad's still behind us."

"So?" He smirks, "What's that got to do with me putting my arm around you?"

"He might suspect something." I reply with a nonchalant tone so he won't suspect my own overthinking.

"And...?" Matty stops on the sidewalk and turns to face me.

"And I'd rather he didn't!" I tell him, pulling his arm along with me as I continue down the sidewalk in the direction of our school.

"No." He stops again and I groan, "I'm offended."

"Don't be a child," I whine, "We're gonna be late if you keep this up."

"So what if he thought we were- what? Dating? Do you not want to be seen with me?"

"I swear to fucking g-"

"I'm just messing with you," He cracks, a grin spreading across his face almost instantly, "You're so easy to rile up."

"You're just an ass," I respond, linking our arms together before he can bring his arm back to my shoulders.

"This is new," He looks down at our linked arms, "I'm not sure how I feel about it. I think I prefer it better my way."

And he quickly removes his arm despite my attempt at a rough grip, and puts his arm in its previous position, draped across my shoulders with his hand hanging off beside my right cheek. I roll my eyes as he presses himself a little closer than usual, and at the same time I attempt not to blush.

We both walk into home group a few minutes after it's started, quietly apologising as we move towards the back of the classroom to sit beside Erica. She smiles politely, not speaking until the teacher has finished reading out the morning notices and re-capping on the week, dragging it out by asking students about their weeks so far. Frankly, I want to tell her, no one wants to hear about anyone else's week, nor would anyone like to share, and I'm positive she doesn't care either.