BLACKMAIL | MATT CHAMPION

DID YOU LOSE YOUR PEBBLE BRAIN?

"thank you!" i tell the lady selling me my ticket. i walk around the carnival, in hope to quickly find wesley.

the place is crowded, there's babies crying, little kids stuffing their face with popcorn, and some people on dates.

i know meeting wesley is a horrible idea, but why not give it a shot?

i look around for another few minutes, until i recognize his beanie. he's sitting on a bench by himself.

he sees me, "everlee!" he stands up.

i can't help but smile, "hey! how long have you been waiting?"

"not very long." he shrugs, "i saw that they have a cotton candy stand, wanna go? i remember how much you loved it."

how the hell does he still remember that?

i nod my head, and he puts his hand out, wanting me to hold it. i stare down at it, wondering if i should or not. i hesitate, but i do it anyways. wesley smiles at me, and we start walking to the cotton candy stand.

just holding his hand brings back so many memories, and now it's making me question if i should let him into my life again.

-

it's been an hour or two, and so far it really hasn't been that bad. we got on rides, and we've eaten a bunch of food. we're eating pizza, and sitting at a picnic table near the pizza stand.

"can i ask you something?" wesley asks, taking a bite of his pizza crust.

"sure," i wipe the grease off my fingers with a napkin.

"are you friends with, matt champion? you're always with him, but doesn't he like hate everyone?" he chuckles.

i nod, "we're friends, but he hates me too." i laugh, but it fades away quickly because the reality of that sentence was too real.

wesley begins talking again, but i zone out because i see something that i didn't expect at all. i see matt and the boys in line for pizza too. this really can't be happening right now.

they seem like they're having a good time, even matt.

"hey, are you okay?" wesley says, while i feel his hand wave in my face.

"oh, sorry." i apologize, then i try to discreetly put my hand up to my face to hide.

in the corner of my eye, i see matt separate from the group, walking somewhere else. probably went to use the bathroom or something.

"i think we should go." i suggest, gathering my trash.

"are you sure?" he asks.

"i'm super sure!" i start panicking. wesley gets up and does the same as me, i rush over to a trash can to throw away my plate.

i walk ahead of him, hoping he'll hurry the hell up.

"everlee, wait!" i hear him shout.

why the fuck does he have to yell out my name?

i turn around, and i see he hasn't moved at all.  i slowly walk back to him, covering my face.

"why haven't you moved? aren't we gonna leave?" i ask, kinda frustrated.

wesley sighs, "just hear me out, i'm really happy that you came out with me today," he smiles, "i'm glad you're letting me make up for my mistakes."

he leans in with his lips puckered. i squint, backing away slowly.

he suddenly gets yanked back, then i see matt holding him by the collar of his shirt.

"alright, baldie, what type of shit are you on?" matt scolds him.

"i didn't know you have a guard dog." wesley says to me.

matt ignores him, "what the hell are you doing, everlee? did you lose that pebble brain of yours?" he sounds angry.

"can i talk with him alone for a second?" i ask wesley.

he nods his head, and matt lets go of his shirt.
he walks away and i start explaining, "last night at the party we talked, he told me that he wanted to make things right again. he even apologized for everything."

"and you really bought that? what about all the things we were planning, and all the things he's done?" he raises his voice.

"i mean, everyone gets to have a second chance right?" i say, hoping he'll agree with me.

"listen to me," he points at wesley, "don't go back to him."

i cross my arms, "i don't understand why you care so much."

"i have to care, because you're going to get hurt again."

"but maybe he really did change?" i put the thought out.

matt rolls his eyes, and puts out his pinkie, "promise me that you'll leave him behind. he isn't good for you, and he's never going to be good for you."

"really? you're going to make me pinkie promise you?"

"i know that you like cheesy shit like this," he shrugs.

he's right. i really do like cheesy things.

"just please promise me." he gets a sad look in his eyes.

i sigh, shaking my pinkie with his, "i promise."

a/n:
why aren't gucci wigs a thing?