Ridiculous: Mattory

4: Now That I Have You Standing Here

Mallory

Ridiculous seemed to be a good word for today.

I had been ridiculously wrong, for one. Memories of those stolen kisses—of the unspoken confessions they held—keep me up long after I should be asleep.

Also, I'm ridiculously nervous for tomorrow.

This had to be a date, right? Matt hadn't said as much, but what else could it be? After today, it had to be.

I sigh and roll over for the umpteenth time, running my thumb over my lips. Should we have done what we did today? Matt is one of my closest friends—probably the closest, if not for the fact that I've known Whitney since elementary school—and as enjoyable as kissing him might be, was it worth risking everything else?

I don't think I like either answer to that question.

We're friends and coworkers. I might freely admit, to myself if no one else, that I had nursed a bit of an off-and-on crush on him almost since we'd met, but it had never gone anywhere and I was okay with that. There was a difference between crushing on someone and actually loving them, after all.

For instance, I think to myself as the perfect example of that pops into my mind. Your secret admirer has a crush on you but certainly isn't in love with you.

The letter I had been reading when Matt found me this afternoon hadn't been the first, and for a little while I had entertained the idea that it might actually be Matt himself. I had dismissed that after only a few days, though. I know how he speaks and I know how he writes, and the voice of the letters fits neither, nor is the handwriting familiar. After a while, I'd relegated the occasional writings as the work of a particularly devoted fan, and enjoyed them as such.

I roll over again and sigh. Tomorrow would come whether I was ready for it or not, but I want my wits about me during this... date. If it is a date.

Eventually, the thought make their way to the back of my mind and I finally drift off to sleep.

~~~

My phone rings about ten minutes before Matt is supposed to pick me up the next afternoon.

I scramble to get it out of my pocket and feel a burst of surprise when instead of his name, it's Natalie's that is displayed across the top.

"Hey, Nat," I greet, trying to keep my voice casual.

"Hey, Mal. You busy?"

I peer at the door automatically, though it's just as still as it has been. "Yeah, actually. I, uh, have a date." If it is a date.

"Ooh, really? I didn't know you were seeing anyone!"

"First date," I manage. "Er, maybe second. Sort of."

Natalie drops her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "Is he cute?"

A lopsided grin comes over my face. I'm not ready to talk about... whatever this is... to the rest of the cast, but I can't resist the urge to tease a little. "He's very cute."

"Well, if things go south, just text me, and I'll get you out." I appreciate the offer, even though I don't foresee 'things going south' today.

Before I can make a response, the knock on my door I've been waiting for finally comes. "Oh, he's here. Gotta go," I squeak to Natalie.

"Have fun then," she says, though she breaks off when Matt knocks again and calls my name. "You know, your date sounds a lot like Matt."

"Yeah, well, guys' voices, you know. They all sound the same. Talk to you later." She starts to say something more, probably to refute my ridiculously lame excuse, but I hang up before it comes through. She'll text me if it's important, I figure. Phone safely back in my pocket, I proceed to open the door.