Fix You // Matt Healy

6

"Okay," I tell him awkwardly, confused to where the situation was going. I wasn't sure of what to expect. Part of me was expecting him to tell me he never wanted to see me again. All of me was hoping that wasn't the case.

He frowned slightly before guiding me to the couch and sitting me down. "I lied," he tells me numbly, avoiding eye contact and desperately looking around the room. 

"What about?" I ask Matt quietly, the list of possibilities reeling through my mind quickly. 

The only time I've ever been hurt through lying was when I was nine. It sounds childish, but it devastated me. My parents were just heading to the airport with their luggage, excited about the vacation my father surprised my mother with. Carter and I were forced to stay home and "focus on our studies". Pretty lame excuse if you ask me, for I was only nine. Do nine year olds really accomplish anything at school anyways? We watched them drive off as our old neighbour chattered with excitement about the activities we would be doing for the week. When they got back the following Monday, they promised me when I turned thirteen, after I graduated eighth grade, that they would take us all on a vacation to the Bahamas. That never happened. It never will. 

I keep a jam jar on my dresser in my room, full of spare change I don't need. There's only like 400$ in the jar but I'm hoping one day I'll have enough. 

"Ginny's not my girlfriend," Matt mumbles, and continues after I remain quiet, "She helped me make you think she is, so that you wouldn't become attached to me." 

I scoff, not believing the words coming out of his mouth, "You're pretty full of yourself if you thought I was getting attached to you." I twirl a piece of my hair around my finger, trying to calm myself down. 

"I also lied about weed, I do it occasionally," his expression is pained as he tells me his secrets, slowly opening up to me, "Let's not forget that I spent the night in jail because of a party I was at. I was about to hook up with this random girl." 

Matt searches my face desperately for a reaction, anything to tell him I haven't gone into shock. I can't believe the words I'm hearing, it doesn't sound like the Matt I thought I knew. 

"Say something," he begs, running his hands through his wet hair. 

Instead of speaking, I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling him stiffen uncomfortably, but I don't let go. 

I hugged him for almost ten minutes, listening to his heart beat erratically. 

"Why did you lie?" the words leave my mouth involuntarily as he draws patterns on my upper back. 

"Didn't want you to think I'm scum," he mutters into my hair. I feel slightly guilty knowing he was too scared to be honest with me. I should probably feel anger right  now, or maybe sadness, but I can't. Matt needs someone to fix him, not push him away like everyone else surely has. 

"You're not scum," I respond, taking his head in my hands, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, "You're slightly broken, but I'm going to fix you."