Did You Get What You Deserve?

Sasha and I stayed late after school so that when Lindsay got out of detention she wouldn’t be alone walking to Matt’s house. Lindsay’s always in detention. She just can’t resist smart-mouthing teachers. She even got a detention from Alec, and that’s hard to get.

We were hanging upside-down on the monkey bars, examining the graffiti and trying to locate the piece that Alec and his friends had put there fifteen years ago. Just when we had found it and were crowing over how rude it was, Lindsay appeared beneath us and, grabbing us by our hair, dragged us down.

“Come on,” she said, “we’re going to Matt’s.”

I scrambled to my feet and dusted myself off, glaring at her.

“What was that for?”

She was already walking away.

“Come on!”

Sasha and I hurried after her.

“What got your knickers in a twist?”

“That bitch of a teacher.”

She proceeded to tell us exactly what had happened in her detention. I zoned out, wondering whether Matt was finally going to tell us his secret.

“...And then she told me off for no reason!”

I nodded, even though I had heard absolutely zero of her story.

“We’re here.”

I knocked on the door. A moment later, it was opened by a woman who could only have been Matt’s mother.

“Ah, you must be Matthew’s friends. Come on in.”

We went past into the kitchen, where Matt and James were sitting on the benches, talking and eating. Upon seeing us, they leapt down, before realising we were not Matt’s mother.

“Oh, hey guys,” said Matt, “come on up to my room.”

We followed him up the stairs. It was obvious, walking through the house, that this was a musical family. We passed a bedroom where a girl sat at her desk, playing the violin. Matt poked his head in.

“You know the rule, Michelle, keep your door closed if it’s loud.”

She looked around, blushed, smiled.

“Sorry,” she whispered, before turning back to her music.

Matt closed the door and continued on up the stairs.

“That’s my sister, Michelle.”

“Older or younger?” queried Lindsay.

“Younger.”

Just then we were almost knocked over as an older boy came barrelling down the stairs.

“Sorry, Matt. Sorry, Matt’s friends.”

He paused at the bottom.

“Yo, Matt! Keep the noise down, Miriam has a headache.”

Matt nodded and led us on up. How many siblings does he have? Finally we reached a door with a wooden sign on it that said “Matthew.” Matt scowled at the sign.

“Every time I take it down, she puts it back up. Mum’s the only one who calls me Matthew,” he added, “And she knows I hate it.”

He opened the door and let us in.

“Sit anywhere you like.”

I sat down on the bed next to Sasha, picking up the stuffed rabbit that was there and putting it in the tuba leaning against the desk. James made an annoyed noise.

“That’s not very nice. Poor bunny.”

“Who are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, Way?”

“It’s still not very nice.”

“Um,” Matt tried to interject, “that’s where the bunny-”

“Answer the fucking question, James. Who the hell are you to tell me what I should and shouldn’t do?”

“Someone who cares about respecting other people’s property!”

“Shut up!”

We all looked at Matt.

“Shut up! Can’t you guys pull yourselves together and get along for once? I have something important to tell you, but if you’re going to keep bickering like a pair of old ladies I’m not going to tell you.”

I scowled.

“Sorry, Matt.”

James folded his arms, also scowling.

“Sorry, Matt.”

“Thank you. Now, I have something I want to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“This is very special and important. Are you listening?”

“Yeah!”

“I... got... a...”