I Can't Make You Stay

Matt had really good ideas. I don’t know how or why he thought of this carnival to attend for our second date, but it was a great idea.

I literally hadn’t been here since Adam and I were 10. It was a part of our summers together, with our families. Every year we went on some family trip, the Spencer’s and the Lazzara’s. It was weird because both of our parents were always working, but somehow managed to take off a month to torture us kids.

It wasn’t bad though, because Adam and I were best friends, and for some reason Julie and Nathan got along really well. I think they might’ve even liked each other, but age kind of got in the way. They enjoyed picking on Adam and I, which was probably what brought them together.

“Hey,” Matt nudged me. “What’re you thinking about?”

I shrugged and continued eating my Sno-Cone. We walked side by side towards the lake, each with a Sno-Cone in our hands. Matt had blueberry, and I had a mixture of lemon and cherry.

“Why do you like blueberry?” Yuck.

“Well why do you like lemon and cherry?” He asked, adjusting the huge green stuffed dog in his hands. “Who combines flavors?”

“Aubrey J. Spencer.” I fingered the little purple cat in my left hand and swatted Matt on the chest with it.

Believe it or not, I had won the bigger prize and Matt the smaller one. Matt claimed the fact that it was little was already an insult, adding to the fact that it was a cat made it worse.

He sniffled and pouted some more when the guy handed me the huge dog, and out of sympathy and the childish look of loss in his beautiful eyes, I agreed to switch. For appearance sakes and his poor little crushed ego, of course.

“Hey, don’t toss around Mr. Fluffy like that!”

I stopped and raised an eyebrow at him.

“You named him.”

“Yes,” Matt smiled over at me. “Everything deserves a name. Mr. Fluffy for my victory cat.”

I chuckled, “The guy definitely gave this to you out of sympathy, okay Matt? ‘Victory Cat’ sounds a lot better though, since, y’know, you lost.”

“Listen,” Matt tried to say in a stern tone, but his smile expressed his happiness. “How does it look for a guy of my size to be carrying around a puny little stuffed cat? This picture looks a lot more proportional.”

“Oh, so you’re thinking of it at a statistical, math sense?”

“Precisely,” but Matt couldn’t hide the smile evident on his face and in his eyes.

I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but he had dimples. Really cute cuts in his chiseled face that made his smile more apparent, more defined, more attractive. Matt had a look about him, which made him seem all-American, almost like he should be considered average. But his massive size and arms, accompanied by his tattoos and piercings made it clear he was anything but average.

“What are those called?” I asked him, gesturing towards his head.

“My…face?” We came to a stop at the edge of the dock, where we both sat and dangled our legs over. I took off my flip-flops, afraid they’d fall in the lake but Matt kept his Etnies on.

“No, these,” and I fingered the metal in his ear that extended his lobe.

“Oh, well I used to have a gauge piercing, which is when the hole is filled with the gauge itself as like…the earring. This particular one is called a tunnel, ‘cause it’s hollow.”

I nodded in understanding and thought of Adam’s nose ring. I’d always wanted a piercing, but that’s a little bit too rebellious, especially for my parents.

“Can I ask you something now?” Matt asked. “It’s kind of random but I felt like your question was too.”

“Sure.”

“What’s your middle name?”

I began to laugh out loud. “Why?” He shrugged. “It’s Jeanine.”

“Charles.”

I began to laugh hysterically. “Like Charles Xavier from X-Men!”

“Oh shut up,” he play pushed me. “My best friend’s middle name is Elwin. I think that’s a lot worse than Jeanine or Charles.”

“Aw, that is. I feel sympathy for your friend. My best friend’s middle name is Burbank, I say it as much as I can just to be an annoyance.”

Matt then started to laugh, and together we laughed about poor Adam’s middle name. It was funny though, you have to admit, but I thought it was cute for Adam’s sake. After a little we calmed down and drank the remainder of the juice from our icy snack.

“Poor kid,” he said suddenly. “Who is it, by the way?”

“Who?” I asked, feeling a buzzing in my pocket. I laid down my now empty container and fished inside for my lovely Red Berry.

“Your best friend.”

Isn’t your freakin date over yet, Aubrey? You’ve been gone all day with this guy. Jesus, when are you getting home?

“Adam Lazzara,” I answered absentmindedly as I quickly texted back to him a short ‘Idk’.

“Was that the kid you were waiting for when we first met?” He asked, biting anxiously on his lip ring.

My mind slowed down and went in rewind mode to the day I had met Matt Sanders. I was waiting outside of the Mathematics building at school for Adam to finish his final. Adam had a little trouble with Math, and took a lot longer on the Math B Regents then I did. I was sitting on the steps, waiting for him so we could go home and do absolutely nothing when Matt had tripped over me.

“Yeah, that was him.”

I had hurriedly apologized to him as he grunted in response and ran off. Then he popped up again and politely apologized properly, and we got into conversation. I wasn’t afraid of him, because he didn’t look all that scary to me. I’d gotten a look at his crappy flip phone as he texted someone, and for some reason had given him my number. When Adam finally showed up, he looked a little bothered to see me with Matt but in less than ten seconds, he forgot about it.

Typical Adam.

“Ahem, so we should probably head back. It’s about thirty minutes of a drive back home, and it’s getting close to eight-thirty.” He stood and I followed, slipping my flip-flops back on as Matt looked at his phone. “I do have a question though.”

“Shoot.”

I watched Matt take a deep breath and then exhale, “Well I don’t want to make a huge speech but it seems like I’m going to have to anyway. I really like you Aubrey, even though we’ve only been on two dates. But whatever, I’m just gonna go for it: would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I blushed and looked away, something I always did when I was embarrassed or touched by something. Or, you know, when I’m being asked out.

“Depends on if you want to be my boyfriend.”

“I do!” Matt exclaimed loudly, laughed, and then repeated himself in a quieter tone.

“Whoa, slow down cowboy. We’re only on the second date and you’re just asking me out, we can’t get married yet.”

Matt gave a hearty laugh at my attempt of joking during his little moment. I smiled up at him and said, “But yes Matt, I would like to be your girlfriend. On one occasion?”

He eyed me funny and clutched the stuffed dog tighter. “Name it.”

I handed him his ‘victory cat’, “You have to carry this back to the car.”

--

“Well, here we are again,” Matt, said as we drove up to Adam’s place. It was bordering 9 o’clock, and I was hoping Adam hadn’t left for Frisbee yet. “You know, I should probably be bothered at the fact that after our dates I have to drop you at another guy’s house.”

“I’ll explain, but all in good time. You haven’t gotten there yet.”

“I will soon though,” Matt grinned at me. “Guess what?” I looked at him expectedly. “I kiss on the second date.”

“And I also beat really big guys at carnival games,” I told him, but leaned over to kiss him anyway.

Met in the middle, our lips touched and I jumped a little at the sudden rush of cold given by Matt’s lip ring. Eyes closed, all I could feel was the spark of attraction brewing between Matt and me as we shared our first kiss. His lips were soft, and I barely felt the presence of his substantial fingers on my face, supple and comforting.

I will admit I was sad to pull apart, but told Matt goodnight and to text me when he got home anyway. With the stuffed dog in my hands, I ascended up the path to the Lazzara household and up the stairs. The door was opened, and I waved back at Matt’s car as he drove out of McKinley Court and shut the door behind me.

“You kissed him,” I heard from the kitchen around the corner. I rolled my eyes and slid out of my flip-flops, my feet padding against the wooden floor.

“How would you know?” I asked Adam, clutching my brand new stuffed dog close to me. I buried my face into the head and Matt’s scent hit my nostrils.

“You took too long to come inside. Your text message was short. You’re sniffing the dog, for Christ’s sake.” Adam leaned against the fridge, beer in hand. His hair was held back by one of my many missing headbands, lost in this house.

“What the fuck are you wearing? And why are you drinking?”

“It’s one beer, calm your ovaries.” He looked down at his white polo, green shorts and white soccer socks pulled up his calves. “And what, you don’t like?”

“You look like freakin’ Andre Agassi. And take off this headband,” I walked over to him and ripped it off his head. “You look like a tool.”

“Ow.” Adam nursed his head, and looked down smugly at the stuffed dog. “Did the big monkey win this for you?”

“No,” I snapped at him and pushed him out of the kitchen so we could get going to Frisbee. “I won it for myself.”