c h a n g e -o f- h e a r t

• c h a p t e r t h r e e •

I look at my reflection in the mirror, frowning. I had on my favorite high waisted jeans, the black ones with the ripped knees, and an oversized orange sweater. At least my hair was finally cooperating and fell nicely around my waist in deep brown waves with a tint of red. I felt awkward. If I were my sister, I would exude confidence. I would own the outfit, not caring what anyone thought of me in it.
But, instead, I'm me. And I'm insecure as hell.
I push my round, thin framed glasses back up on my nose. My head hurts, which means it's a glasses day. I kind of need them, but I can see without them. But whenever I get headaches I have to wear them, as it's usually the eyestrain that's making my head hurt.
I'm not really sure why I'm so focused on my appearance today-it's not like I'm going anywhere. I'm snapped out of my worry by a sharp knock at the door. I walk over and open it to reveal none other than Matty Healy. He's wearing black jeans and a white t shirt under a leather jacket. He looks good. Suddenly I'm glad I've changed out of my pajamas when I did. "Hello," he says, hands clasped behind his back.
"H-hello," I answer, unsure of what to say. He's probably looking for Rose, who had to rush off to work this morning, "um, Rose isn't here right now, I'm sorry." I tell him, "she'll be back around four though."
"Well good thing I'm not looking for Rose," he says with a smirk.
"Oh?" I'm too awkward for this.
"Do you have plans today? I thought maybe since you're pretty new, I could show you the city. The parts Rosie didn't show you," he winks and my knees weaken. All he has to do is wink and I'm sure all of the girls fall at his feet.
"Oh, uh, no. No I don't have plans today," I reply.
"Great, get your shoes," he commands.
I fast walk to the closet and lace up the same combat boots I wore the first time exploring the city.
"Will I need a jacket?" I ask him.
"If your sweater is as thick as it looks, you'll be fine," he says, "now hurry up and let's go exploring!"
I tuck my wallet and phone into my small crossbody bag and pull out the keys. Matty waits right behind me as I lock the door. I turn around and he takes several steps back and shoves his hands in his pockets, "ready?"
I nod.

Matty was right. Rose's tour of the city was amazing, but this was better. I saw so much more of the local sites. Matty took us to a small coffee shop lit by the light streaming through the windows. It was a nice place, white walls adorned with shelves of books and green plants in hanging pots. I take a closer look at the books and smile. Virginia Woolf, Hemingway, Brontë, Fitzgerald, and then, to mix it up, some Stephen King and more contemporary novels, some by authors I don't recognize. But there are so many. Throughout the shop. There are children's classics as well. And I love it.
"Do you like to read?" His thick accented voice sounds behind me, startling me out of my daze.
I nod, "I love to read. Rose and I have a little ritual where, after dinner, we sit and read a book with a cup of tea before we go to bed," I say.
His eyes hold something unfamiliar in them as he says softly, "cute," then he clears his throat and looks at me, "fancy a coffee?" He asks.
"Um, I don't really drink coffee, but if you're getting something then I'll get myself a tea, I guess."
"Don't be an idiot, I'm getting your drink," He scolds.
"Matty..."
He shushes me and practically drags me to the counter, "the mugs here are really big, which I love," he says.
I smile. My mug back in my sister's flat is huge. i made sure to bring that over. If I'd left it at my aunt and uncle's, I don't think I would have been able to handle it. The mug was incredibly special to me. I love tea and I can only ever drink out of that huge cup. I have an incredibly specific way of taking tea, so I opt for a chai tea instead so that I don't come off as high maintenance about the regular black tea I usually drink. Matty orders some sort of coffee beverage and pulls out his wallet to pay.
"Are you sure?" I ask him, uncertain, "because I have money and I can-"
Matty turns and silences me with a single look. He doesn't even need to tell me to shut up. His eyes say it all. Sighing, I look down and shuffle my feet. I hate when people pay for me. People can turn favors into transactions quickly, and I don't like owing people money.
As our drinks are being made, Matty walks over to a far table by one of the giant windows and motions for me to sit down across from him. He leans forward on his elbows and props his chin on his hands, "so, Violet, why are you really here?"
I look at him, startled, "w-what do you mean? I told you last night...?"
He shakes his head, "no, I caught onto that bullshit right away. It's something else, or at least there's more to the story than you two let on."
He's a total stranger. Why should I owe him any explanation at all? What right does he have? And yet I find myself wanting to tell him the truth. But maybe I'll share the sugar coated version first. I don't want to talk about the hospital, the bloody knuckles, and the pills. Not yet.
"Um," I clear my throat and look down, hating this bit. Everyone always feels sorry for me or something and I hate that. "Well our parents died a few years ago and Rose is all I have. When she moved here I was devastated, but she told me she wanted me to join her. She just didn't want to stay in that town any longer, she couldn't. And I was finishing up high school, so it's not like I could leave. And then I did a few years at another community college, since it's cheaper and I could work full time as well, to save up to come here. Plus, uh," I take a deep shaky breath, hating to talk about this bit. Before I can continue however, the waitress sets our drinks down in front of us. Matty was right. The mugs are more like bowls and I am here for it. "Thank you so much," I tell the woman as she takes the sign with our order number away.
She smiles at me, "of course sweetie. Let me know if you two need anything else," and then she trots off back behind the counter.
"This looks amazing," I say, "and you were right about the mug. It's huge and I adore it!"
I look up at Matty who is watching me with a small smile before realizing I've caught him. He wraps his slender fingers around the handle of his giant mug and takes a sip of coffee, sighing in satisfaction. I smile at the sight of it.
Then his gaze is back on me, "so continue," he motions for me to keep going with the reason why I'm Here. I gulp. I hate this bit, but I'm going to minimize it as much as I can. It really isn't all that bad anyway, I just don't like talking to strangers about it. And I don't want Matty to look at me weirdly, like other people do. "Well, so, um, there was this guy that I dated. Well, he sort of dated me and I went along with it because I was too scared to do otherwise. He was kind of The Worst," I look down at the table, trying to shove everything back in my head, "but, uh, yeah. I kind of came here to get away from that too. And my aunt and uncle weren't exactly winning any guardian of the year awards," I finish. That's it. That's all I want to say for now. He doesn't need to know about the nights in the hospital, the little white pills, and all of the other things. I've said all I want to say to him now. I think he senses this because he nods and takes another sip of his drink.
"Alright, so why did Rose leave you then?"
"W-what?" I ask, startled that he would ask that question. Nobody asked that question. I had once, and then buried it deep down, feeling selfish for even thinking it. It was because she had been presented an opportunity to get out while she could. And, being smart, she took it.
"If she knew about what was happening, why did she leave you there with them?" Matty repeats slowly as if I'm a child.
I shrug, "I don't know, but it's okay. I mean, she was, she is, happier here, you know? She deserves that."
He looks at me quizzically, "it's selfish of her," he states, "if she knew about everything happening, and I suspect it's a lot more than you're letting on, and she still left you, she's selfish."
I shake my head, vehemently, defending my sister, "no, Matty. No it's not. It's fine. I obviously handled it okay and I'm here now, so..." I trail off and take a sip of my tea to ease the awkward silence. He continues to gaze at me quizzically and then shakes his head, mostly to himself, and sips his coffee.
We sit in silence for a bit, drinking our tea and coffee. It's not an awkward silence, even though I can sense Matty's eyes on me, perhaps trying to figure me out, perhaps trying to figure out why he even wasted his time taking me around the city, but the silence surrounding us is calm. "So what has been your favorite part about today?" He asks, his eyes lighter again.
I smile, "I don't know, everything I suppose."
"wrong," he smirks, "you're supposed to say hanging out with me."
He winks at me and I chuckle, "I assumed that was a given."
We ease into pleasant small talk and Matty tells me about the band and the shows they play and what the crowds are like. He invites me to a show sometime and tells me stories about playing on tour in different countries and everything. I'm almost envious of the life, but I know it means I'd never be able to settle down with anyone and for that I feel bad for him for. He doesn't seem to mind it though. He doesn't seem like a one-woman-man.
Suddenly Matty's phone beeps and he pulls it out, a frown forming on his pretty face as he reads over the message. He looks up at me, a weird look in his eyes, "it appears I have an emergency studio session," he says, "I'm sorry to have to cut this short. I can walk you back before I leave, or you can stay here and finish your tea, it's up to you."
I stare at the bottom of my mug, "it's just the dregs," I say, "we can walk back to the flat," I stand up and gather my things.
The air shifts strangely between us into a tense, awkward feeling. Or at least, that's how I feel. We reach the flat both far too soon and not soon enough. Matty shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a step back, not meeting my eyes, "Well this is where I leave you, I guess."
I nod, "thank you for taking me on a tour of the city and for the tea," I say, "it was very kind."
He gives me a curt nod before offering a small wave and then turning around and walking down the block, around the corner, and out of sight.