opia; matty healy.

34%

Despite Matty's absence in my life for the past week, things have been fine. There's always something strange about telling people you're "just fine". It's a neutral state; I'm nor good, nor bad. I'm doing fine, I'm getting on and most importantly I'm trying.

George didn't speak about Matty for the rest of the night, most likely to avoid making things awkward between the two of us. What he'd done had good reasoning behind it, but in the long run shouldn't have happened – I can't stop blaming myself for their childish behaviour since that Friday.

There's tension between everyone, yet they act as if everything is fine the following Monday, the last week before Christmas break. They discuss their plans as if George didn't almost break Matty's nose and Matty didn't almost break George's too.

Matty came in on Monday wearing an old t-shirt, a long sleeve peeking out underneath and a pair of old jeans. He looked effortlessly attractive and I my breath stopped for a second, before my brain reminded me that he didn't feel the same. My heart sunk.

"What about you, Issy?" Chelsea nudges my arm with her elbow, throwing me off from my thoughts for the first time during lunch.

"Huh?" I hum, unintentionally glancing at Matty whose eyes are conspicuously on me.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Erica asks from across the table.

"I don't think we're doing much," I shrug, "All our family is back in the States."

"You should come over," George says quickly, "I mean– your parents, too. Dad was going to invite them anyway, almost all of our families get together for dinner."

"Everyone?" I ask.

George nods, "Everyone except Ross and Chelsea."

"Okay," I nod with a reassuring smile, "I'm sure I'll be there."

I'm reminded by the invitation that Mum had taken me out to Manchester over the weekend. It's a busy time of the year, so the city was packed – still, I chose a few small gifts for everyone. It wasn't too difficult to find something that resembled what I knew of them in the short time I've been here. This is surprising, since I've rarely ever had to shop for friends in the past because, well, there hasn't been anyone there to buy for.

I found it exciting, barely holding back a smile as I wrapped them on Sunday night, that I finally have people in my life that feel permanent. Even if it's only for a couple of years. Even if one of them isn't speaking to me, and might never again. I have at least two friends at any one time, and that's enough for me.

"Should I be there on Wednesday?" I ask Chelsea, referring to Matty's house.

"Of course," she tells me, as if it's not a question I should have asked in the first place.

"It won't be weird?" I push.

"Only if you make it weird," she smiles, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

This is the conversation we have at the end of Monday, right before we part ways and I walk home. Ahead of me, Matty walks, and I keep my distance to make sure he doesn't notice me. I listen to the sounds of "Whispers In The Dark", wondering if he knows already that I am here.

My eyes travel to his hair in its usual mess, and his hands tucked away in his jacket, his rolled up sleeves exposing areas of his arm. I struggle to tear my eyes away, only turning my head upwards when I reach my street and stopping, waiting for him to disappear until he's out of sight once again.

We'd walk together, I remember, only a short few weeks and a routine had been engrained into my every day life. It was one of the only constants, but Matty couldn't even be that. He couldn't stick around, or be civil, and now I'm angry. I'm mad, because after such a short amount of time and practically still strangers, Matty didn't want to get to know me any more.