opia; matty healy.

29%

I've been avoiding confrontation with Charlie since Wednesday night. After a thousand missed calls, I would think he'd get the message that I'm not interested in hearing his excuses. Erica has, instead, suffered most of my ranting over the last two days.

Seeing Bon Iver with Matty was easily one of the best nights of my life. He turned it all around by surprising me with the tickets, it was too easy for me to forget that Charlie had made me upset only minutes before. We both admired the music, basking in the moment and the night – Matty no doubt trying to forget all his problems while I ignored my own.

Friday afternoon has arrived quickly, although I should be heading to lunch, I've found myself at my locker rummaging through the mess I've managed to make over the last few weeks. I pull out any trash, picking up a ripped paper I must have tore out of my workbook. Upon inspection, I see familiar writing scrawled on it and I panic.

And the panic, it turns to anger, and the anger turns to further rage and I'm slamming my locker and almost running to the cafeteria. His back is turned to me, but I know that when I see his face his nose will be bruised from his past mistakes and his eyes will fill with confusion as they always do to mask the guilt.

I grab his shoulder, holding back nothing, "You're a fucking asshole, you know that? What more does it take for you to fuck off?"

"What-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about!" I raise my voice and slam the paper down on the table, watching his eyes hover over the writing.

They open wider than before now, the expected confusion returning as he stands, "Look, I want to explain everything."

"Then tell me," I accuse, "Tell me now."

"It's your boyfriend," he tells me, in a manner that speaks for itself – as if I should already know that it was Charlie. But Alex is a liar, as I've learned.

"You're not shifting the blame onto people close to me anymore Alex," I threaten, "Tell me the truth."

"I'm telling you everything you want me to, Isabel!" He pleas now, and I feel his words hit me with a pang of sympathy for the boy, "Your fucking crazy boyfriend who's been diagnosed with bipolar schizophrenia, chronic depression and an anxiety disorder told me to leave the notes! Bet he didn't tell you that, hey? I'm surprised Matty didn't steer you clear of the guy in the first place, considering they were best friends for years."

I turn around to follow Alex's gaze, my eyes filling with tears as my mind runs wild, "You're lying," my voice breaks.

Matty stands behind me, not moving an inch as I notice everyone in the cafeteria has stopped to stare at us and listen in on the conversation. He looks at me with glossy eyes, denying nothing but not confirming anything either as I fill with rage, remembering my insecurities as they flood back all at once.

"I'm not lying, Isabel," he speaks calmly and I can feel my bones filling with humiliation and anger, "Can we talk about this outside?"

"You're not going anywhere with her," Matty speaks, stepping in and grabbing my arm.

I pull away from him, grabbing his arm now, "We're all going outside."

With my hand gripping Matty's upper arm I lead him through the cafeteria doors that lead to the back of the school, assuming Alex is following. I try to wrap my head around all of the vague information Alex has spilled to me, but none of it makes sense and all I need right now is answers.

I stop near the bleachers, turning to them both, "Why didn't you tell me?" I ask Matty.

"About Charlie?" he asks.