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“You want a drink?” Matty nodded in the direction of a small, cozy kitchen.
“Sure,” Ethan replied while taking in his surroundings. It was a small cottage with a homely feel to it. The kitchen was open concept, a large wooden island in the middle. The kitchen opened up to a small living room with a comfy navy-blue couch and a matching recliner, with a quilt in various blues hanging over one armrest. Magazines about lobstering and a few books lay scattered across the small coffee table. Ethan bent to look at one of the books which appeared to be a textbook.Advanced Math. Another textbook saidNorth American History, From the Pioneers to the Industrialization.
“I’m taking evening classes in Biddeford twice a week,” a mellow voice sounded behind him as Matty placed a Mountain Dew on a coaster next to the books on the coffee table. “I wanna get my diploma. Austin’s helping me with the homework.”
Ethan nodded as he reached for the history book, reading the back of the dust jacket. “That’s cool, man.”
“Yeah, math is still a fucking bitch, but history is okay.” Matty shook his head, grinning. “Shit, I never thought I’d say this, but I actually like going to school.”
Ethan looked at his friend, warmth coursing through his chest, tinted with an edge of anger, perhaps. Yes, it was anger.
“It was a fucking disgrace how they treated you back in school. A goddamn disgrace, Matty. I’m sorry.”
“What do you have to be sorry about, Eth? You made everything better. You always do make everything better… Anyway, what’s done is done, right? No need to spend your time stuck on things that can’t be changed anyway. It is what it is, right?” Matty shrugged, while he pointed towards the couch. “Take a seat, Eth.”
“Yeah, I know,” Ethan murmured. “I know…” He continued to look through the book. “It’s cool. You going back to school.”
“Yeah. And it’s fun too,” Matty spoke as he moved the quilt to the side before sitting back in the navy recliner. He took a long sip from his Mountain Dew before he continued. “The teacher, Mr. Masri, is from India. He’s our history teacher. He’s pretty cool. I don’t know…” Matty paused briefly, recalling one of the other students in Mr. Masri’s class. How he’d commented on the teacher’sfunny accentduring a break.Sure, Mr. Masri spoke English differently, but in a way, it wasn’t that different from Matty’s own Texan drawl when he got excited in class about something he’d read. Yes,read.Mr. Masri encouraged Matty to read now. Not just history even though he preferred those books. Some of the other students would snigger at Matty’s accent too, but he didn’t mind. He just focused on Mr. Masri’s encouraging nod and the fondness in his eyes, when Matty would struggle with a difficult word. Because he still struggled. Probably always would.
“You remember Mr. Pierce? From back home?” He looked at Ethan.
“Sure,” Ethan rolled his eyes. “Fucking asshole.”
“Yeah, I haven’t thought about him in ages, to be honest,” Matty shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t help thinking how different things could’ve been for me in school if the teachers back home had been a bit more like Mr. Masri…”
“What do you mean?” A questioning frown appeared between Ethan’s brows.
“I mean, instead of them always focusing on what I did wrong, they could’ve just encouraged me to be better. Try harder. Maybe it would’ve made a lot of things easier for me. Like Mr. Masri makes it easier. People may think that he talks kinda funny but to me it just feels… I don’t know… safe? You know what I mean? Like him being different makes it easier for me to put myself out there and not be afraid to stand out.”
“Yeah, I think I do…” Ethan trailed off, taking a hearty sip from his can. “It’s like…” He shook his head, resigned. “Nah, it doesn’t matter…”
“What? Spill it,” Matty grinned.
Ethan exhaled, the tightness, which had been lingering on-off in his chest since he’d left Boston, returning.
“It’s the same with Avery, you know? He’s so fucking smart, too, but he never makes you feel dumb or beneath him or anything…” It felt strange, talking about Avery with Matty. Speaking his name again.
“You got pretty close on the road, huh?” Matty raised a blond brow questioningly.
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, we just clicked, you know? Avery’s like that. He’s just himself. No pretense. No bullshit. He’s just… Avery, I guess.” He’d told Matty about his encounter with Avery this afternoon while they’d visited Will and Millie’s house. At first, he’d been reluctant to go into too many details about the nature of their relationship, but Matty must have sensed it anyway, because suddenly Ethan had told his friend everything. Well, almost everything. The tightness suddenly became overwhelming, and Ethan felt relief course through him as Matty continued.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Austin’s like that, too. No hidden agenda. No ulterior motives. Just an open book. If he likes ya, he tells ya. If he doesn’t…” Matty got a faraway look in his eyes, the blue glazing over momentarily.
“Shit, man, you’re so far gone, huh?” Ethan grinned.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Matty nodded, a dopey look on his face.
“It’s good. I’m happy for ya.”
Matty nodded, taking another sip of his drink, swallowing audibly.
“What about you? And Avery? Are you—”
Matty was interrupted by the sound of the front door nearly being blown off its hinges. Barging through the frame came Austin, broad smile on his face, grocery bags wrapped in his beefy, tanned arms.
“Hey, sweetheart, you know that hot sauce you like?” Austin’s voice came booming through the small house. “It was on sale, so I got you a whole case. Pretty fucking awesome, huh?”
Ethan nearly snorted his Mountain Dew, and a coughing fit took hold of him. The domesticity of the entire interaction had struck him like lightning.
