feather

four: so i can have seventeen favors

"Hey Matthew!" Delia blushed, then said, "I think that's my ride. See you guys!" and rushed off. The backstabber. I said she was crafty, didn't I?

Matthew stared at me, and I knew what he was thinking.

"Okay, sorry, sorry. We were wondering if you've ever kissed anyone. Have you?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Matthew smirked (which is actually quite common; I'm beginning to suspect that one side of his mouth has more muscles than the other because his smiles/smirks always tilt towards the right) and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Damn it, Matthew," I teased, smacking him on the shoulder. "How do you not know?"

He shrugged again. Seriously, this boy.

"Anyway, I'm gonna get straight to the point. Delia thinks you're attractive and wants to make babies with you one day. Are you in or naw?" I asked him.

Fortunately for me, Matthew was already used to my direct speech. He looked at me. I understood what he wanted to ask.

"I'm totally okay with it, and I think this would be a good experience for you," I told him, and then popped my knuckles as if to say 'if you don't go out with her I'll beat you up!' but then again he was a full six inches taller than me so I don't know if that would've turned out well for me. "It will involve a lot of smoochies, a little cuddoodling, and maybe even canoodling."

He shrugged again.

"So you'll do it? Thank you thank you thankyou thankyouthankyou!" Victorious, we fist-bumped and I drove him with me over to a Starbucks to buy a coffee since he was feeling tired.

"What kind of coffee would you like?" the barista asked, bored.

"Black like my soul." I deadpanned, and she gave me a weird look before scribbling down the order on the cup. "Just kidding, it's his soul that's black," I said, and pointed at Matthew.

"Name?" she asked with a single exhale. I didn't understand how her eyes didn't pop out of her head for how much she was rolling them.

Matthew grinned and said, "He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

The barista just sighed and pushed the tip cup towards me once she finished cashing in our order. I graciously put in a quarter so she wouldn't spit in our drinks, and we went over to the counter to wait. 

"Heads or tails?" I asked Matthew, showing him the rusted penny.

He blinked at me.

"Okay, I guess I have heads then." I flipped the penny and caught it in my left hand, showing the penny to him. "You won. Lucky boy." 

Matthew smiled and chuckled a little bit, keeping his eyes on the ground. "Jamie, we really need to talk..."

"Not necessary," I said, smiling at him and patting his arm, which was usually very soft and kind of fuzzy but currently covered by his long-sleeved soccer warmup shirt. I always told him it really showed off his manly shoulders. "We're okay. You're okay. I'm okay. We're all okay." 

He stared at me for a little bit, his gray eyes flickered down towards his hands then back at me, before smirking again (I actually am willing to bet he practices smirking in the mirror). "Thanks," he said, then cleared his throat and stoof up straighter, shifting his backpack a little. "I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one, pretty boy. More like, seventeen," I informed him, then pushed him towards the counter because one of the Starbucks guys had called for "Voldemort's" order. "The first one you can count as going on a date with Delia tomorrow afternoon!" I called as he walked towards the counter. "If you kiss her I'll even count that as another favor!" 

"Alright, alright," he conceded, setting down my cup of espresso in front of me. It was dark and bitter, just how I liked it. "I'll go on the date, Cupid."

"Will you kiss her?" I asked, attempting to wiggle my eyebrows. They probably looked more like squirmy caterpillars than anything else since I couldn't exactly wiggle them in unison.

He put fingers on my eyebrows to pin them in place, and chuckled a little. "Maybe."