I Hate Cliché

Veintiséis

"How are you feeling," My mum gently wakes me setting down a glass of orange juice and some pills.

I wake up and sit up right streaching, "Better. My head still hurts though." She hands me the pills, Tylenol I pressume. Taking a sip of the orange juice I swallow them.

"Matthew's mother called," She whispers sitting down at the end of my bed.

This wakes me up.

"She explained what happened. He's coming over in a half hour to talk."

A little sooner than I wanted to talk to him, but alright.

"I have to get dressed," I mumble getting up.

My mum sighs, "Alright. Don't be too long."

I leave my room and head into the bathroom. I look like an absolute mess. The bruise is much more prominent now. Some of the makeup that didn't come off is smudged like no other. I literally have to yank the pony tail out of my hair its so tangled. A quick shower should fix everything.

Thankfully it did. Once I was dressed and my hair was tamed dry. I look in the mirror at my bruise then down at my makeup. It's going to to take a lot but I'm going to cover it up.

After several layers of concealer and my foundation its finally less noticible. I hope. I didn't really try that much but I don't want to look like a slob. So I put on a pair of jeans and a shirt. Grabbing his soccer sweatshirt I head down the stairs.

My parents and his are sitting in the living room. Matt has his head down and sits as far away as possible. Their conversation is hushed and all the adults are staring at me.

"I'm fine. Quit staring at me like I've died and come back to life," I snap. "Sorry."

"Matt came over here to apologize," Shelia says.

"Can I talk to him alone? Maybe so its less awkward and actually private," I ask.

My dad tenses up, "No way am I leaving you alone with this boy." He raises his voice.

"Luke," My mum warns. "Shelia would you like some tea? Tim, Luke can show you his fascinating guitar collection in the basement." My dad is about to protest but Mum gives him the meanest glare I've ever seen before leading Shelia into the kitchen closing the door. Dad gives me a quick glance before heading into the basement with Tim.

Matt finally looks up.

"Here's your sweatshirt," I say setting it on the couch beside him.

"Why don't you hate me?"

"Better question," I say. "Why don't you hate me?" I plop down on the other side of the couch looking at him.

"I told you I like you too much Rose," Matt sighs. "But I see how much Alex likes you and how much you like him."

That hurt. Because I know what it's like in his place.

"You deserve an explanation." I can see a shine to his blue eyes. "Alex and I have had a thing for a while."

Matt his the couch making a smacking sound. "I knew it."

"But." I stop his hand from hitting anything else. His eyes flick from my eyes to our hands a few times before he makes it so we're holding hands. "It was before we had anything. I have a small confession to make. Ryan isn't real. I'm Ryan."

"W-what?"

I nod clearing my throat. "I'm Ryan Smith and you are?" I say in my boy voice. Matt is in shock.

"Wow. You're a really convincing actor." He breathes. "But wait that means I've hit you twice? Oh my God. Rose I'm so sorry." I hold up a finger telling him to be quiet.