SETTLE DOWN, matty healy

Chapter 5: Talk!

Song Selection: Suit No. 3 in D Major by Bach

Today marked a slow day to be Eastwood's T.A., leaving me to put my earbuds in and write in my journal instead of doing homework that really needed to be done. My focus in my own work caused me to drift away from the classroom for a second, picturing myself amidst an array of trees. It was fall now and the leaves were beginning to change colors and fly away from their branches. My heart ached picturing the beauty of it, circling the image around Bach playing in the background.

Violin Concerto No. 2 in E Major to be exact.

A smile spread across my face without me realizing it and I fixed my glasses before setting a coherent idea onto the paper, drifting away from the drawings I had set beside it. "Emma, the bell rang a few minutes ago already?" Eastwood questioned in front of me, snapping me out of my relaxed state. I took off my ear buds, nodding without a response and began to grab my things. She sighed, holding up a hand to stop me. "I obviously interrupted an epiphany you had. Go on Emma, keep writing. Just make sure to lock the classroom once you're done."

I smiled graciously, taking a seat. "Thank you Mrs. Eastwood." And she bid me adieu before leaving. Turning back down to the phrases I had begun, I slowly continued and allowed for the music to flow back into my concentration. The strokes of my pen seemingly mimicking the violins being played by the instruction of their conductor. Leaves were falling again, the skies were blue, and I began to be rid of the dullness that seemed to occupy my waking day-

The door opened in front of me and I looked up briefly, expecting to find the janitor to only find a Mr. Healy encompassed in one of his novels. My trance faded from view as he stood at the doorway looking to me confused. "Sorry, I didn't know Mrs. Eastwood had already left."

I stared at him for another few seconds before realizing that I needed to actually respond to him. "Yeah, she left a few minutes ago actually." He nodded somberly and went on his way. "But, I can pass on the message." My seat had left me as I was standing on my feet again.

He shook his head and raised his hand. "No, that's not necessary. I was just going to discuss with her an idea I had on-" Mr. Healy stopped himself and smiled, "It's actually about Frankenstein and I'm not too sure you'd be too interested to hear me go on and on about it so I'm just gonna leave it at that."

I couldn't help to chuckle at the thought and leaned on the desk awkwardly. He pointed to my phone, clutching the book in his hand. "I hope I didn't interrupt your writing."

"No, it's fine. I was just finished actually," I said and started to grab my things, "You'll just hear it the first meeting anyways so it should be done by then."

Mr. Healy nodded and I was about to make my way out-

"In my opinion, a poem with all the errors is the rarest and purest form it can take. Don't spend your time editing it, the piece won't be as unique," He advised me and I turned to him surprised, making him chuckle, "I'm sure whatever you've written has turned out as art already as all writing should be seen as."

Fuck me dude, get the fuck outta here and go back to reading with your expensive ass coffee and nice hair.

I shuffled my hands awkwardly. "You know, I'd actually like to hear your thoughts about Frankenstein," I said and he raised a brow to me, "I'm- actually planning to be a literature major in college. I've had my heart set on it for awhile, kinda why I'm a T.A. for Eastwood and the only extracurricular activity I'm in is Poetry Club."

Mr. Healy chuckled and nodded, clutching the novel to his chest to let out a deep breath. "What I'm gathering from this, which is why I also assigned for the whole Mary Shelley biography thing to the class, is the comparisons made throughout the book. Such as the fact that Elizabeth could be taken as a representation of the fact that she craved a daughter despite her continuous deaths of children during their infancy and only having one son to live," He said in almost a rush, taking a seat in one of the smaller desks in front of me. His eyes were widened, showing off how dark their color really were. His curls bounced when he explained to me, causing me to slightly be distracted at how enthusiastic he was to have someone to listen to him.

"Well, actually, I took her implementation of her own backstory to not only be in Victor, obviously, but in Victor's family dynamic. The way in which they explained his family structure is essentially Mary explaining the circumstances in which her and Percy found themselves in before marriage," I explained instead, earning a wide-eyed response, "It seemed pretty evident to me at least but I can see how you interpreted Elizabeth, it's clever."

Instead of gaining a praise, Mr. Healy leaned back in his seat to tilt his head at me amused. "Now I'm beginning to wonder why you don't actually share any of this in class. You seem to comprehend the literature in essays, but I don't see why you don't talk in class and share these ideas." He raised his hands, exasperated. "Hell, you're complimenting me out of self pity it seems."

Fuck. Shit. Abort. Abort. I reached into my backpack and looked at my phone, pretending to be surprised. "Oh, well, it seems my dad has been messaging me that he's here to pick me up. Sorry, have to head off. Have a nice day." Grabbing my things, I rushed out the class embarrassed while Mr. Healy looked on as I left the class.

***

"He's right you know, why don't you talk as much in his class?" I held in my words at the back of my throat as Anna and Ryder looked at me from their phones as we FaceTimed one another.

I tried to pick out a good response, failing to do so as it was all an excuse. "Because I don't think my ideas are up to par?" I lied, causing the both of them to roll their eyes.

"No one even uses the phrase 'up to par' besides you, now I know you're just kidding yourself," Anna said and tilted her head, "Are you seriously that nervous around him?"

My thoughts drifted away for a second to Mr. Healy this afternoon, eagerly explaining a new found epiphany he had with connecting the literature to a piece of rhetoric. Then myself, who could so easily explain to him, in the moment, what I thought of the piece of text myself. "I don't think it's him per say, it's just- I don't even understand myself to be quite honest with you." I really don't, now that I've put some thought into it, which only made the situation a bit more unbearable . Those eyes do prove to be quite the distraction, that's for sure.