A Foreign Touch

The One Where They Get Cut Off {14}

                                    Matt's POV

We arrived at my house with little conversation, just simple small talk. I feel that we tried so hard to make it not awkward, resulting in it being awkward. I mean, we had just met, I had burst into his house on him whimpering about his "twisted ankle", and now he was coming to my house. What are we supposed to talk about? 'Oh, yeah, thanks for busting into my house uninvited due to a racing thought so you could eventually invite me to your house because you think my dad is beating me. Appreciate it...' Like, that's wild.

Anyways, we get to my house, I explained to my mom (possibly lied, but she couldn't tell) his situation.

"Listen, mom, I know I should have told you-"

"Matthew, it is a school night!" she whisper-yelled into my ear harshly, "Plus we don't have a place for..."

"...Ryan," I said looking down.

"We don't have a place for Ryan to sleep."

"Yes we do! The spare bedroom! Uncle Fungus stayed there."

"Jesus, for the last time, don't call him that! Beside the point," she sighed, "That's the storage room now. It's a disaster."

"Hey, um, I mean, I can just sleep on the couch. It's not a big-"

"No," my mom and I said at the same time.

"You two can figure this out. I'm tired," she murmured, climbing back up the stairs. Right, okay. Seems about right.

"I mean, you can sleep in my room," I say slowly. I process what I just said in my mind. Wait-that's not what I meant to-

"Uh, I mean, like, what do you mean by-"

"Oh, nonono, like not in the same bed I mean-"

"Ah, right, but like, it wouldn't be a bad thing if we-"

"I mean, yeah but you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the, ya know, the floor," I finally get out.

"I'm okay with it if you're okay with it."

I nod my head reassuringly and we both begin to saunter up the stairs, to my room. He threw his stuff on my floor, me instantly regretting not actually cleaning my room.

"Oh, sorry for not picking up. It was kind of an impulsive decision to, ya know..."

"For breaking into my house, implying that my home life isn't safe, and then being my white knight and saving me?" I look at him with pure fear in my eyes and expression, "Nah, man. I'm just kidding! I appreciate it!"

"Oh, hahaha, yeah," I breathe out. Wow I think almost went into cardiac arrest, "I guess just situate yourself, maybe we could just talk or whatever until we get tired."

"Yeah, okay. That sounds good," he smiled at me.

While he was getting situated I decided to make up my own little bed. I collected every blanket I could find, every pillow I could find, and every sleeping bag that we owned. Granted, it would still be rather uncomfortable, but you gotta make lemonade with lemons. Now, everyone always goes all willy-nilly with laying down the blankets and such, but there's a science behind it. There needs to be the perfect ratio of thick blankets on the bottom, but still enough on top to keep me warm. I laid down the thickest quilt that was way too hot for me to sleep under, a super thin sheet, and then a sleeping bag. I sat there for about three minutes deciding what to put next when I noticed Ryan staring at me.

"What'cha doing there, Matty?" he smirks.

"I'm trying to find the perfect ratio of thick and thin blankets for maximum comfort, duh," I retort back.

"Alrighty then," he joked, hands in the air.

After twenty minutes of me trying to find the exact balance of heavy and thin blankets, I found it! It didn't last long though, because that bastard Ryan fell directly on top of it. I mean, I'm not mad at the fact that he was on it, but I was mad at the fact that I didn't get to feel my masterpiece first.

"Hey, asshole, that's my bed," I huffed loudly, trying to push him away, "You have my actual bed! Get off, loser!"

"Wow, I am hurt," he says monotonously. Try as I might, I could not get this boy off of my makeshift bed.

"Okay, let's make a deal," I bargain, giving up with my pushing method.

"... I'm listening," he says slowly.

"How about you sit on you bed and I sit on mine but... we watch Friends."

"Well, why didn't you just say that?!" he laughs, getting up from my bed and rolling onto his.

I pulled up my Nextflix account and started the first episode, ya know, The One Where Monica Gets a Roommate.

"Okay, I'm gonna say it, I hate Ross," Ryan opined.

"What!? How could you hate Ross??" I gasped.

"Ugh, don't even get me started! All of the problems always start with him. And his whiny little 'oohh I don't know'" he mocked.

"It's not his fault that his high school crush just suddenly appeared in his life again! He's trying his best, Ryan!"

"He's just so problematic!" he drew out the "o" in so, that dramatic bastard.

"I'm sorry but I'm going to need you to get out of my house," Ryan shrugged, stood up, and started to walk towards the door, "No! I was kidding, please come back!"

"Well... okay, but only because you asked oh so nicely."

We ended up watching Friends until I heard Ryan snoring above and a little to the left of me. I stood up, turned off the TV, and changed into some pajama pants with little Super Mushrooms on them. As I was turning off the lights I went through all of the events that happened today. It started off good, then bad, then good again. I smiled to myself as I drifted off the unconscious dream world.