You're So Pretty On the Outside

*Nicholls*

Curtis went his separate way, probably heading off to Sarah’s because I saw him head to the parking lot. Matt and I entered our room in silence. He seemed to have understood how I was feeling because he kept his mouth shut as I rummaged through my dresser, taking a pair of sweats, tee shirt and boxers to the bathroom.

I shut the door and stripped down, pulling on the clean boxers followed by the ratty tee shirt I’d picked. I reached and grabbed the sweat pants, slipping them on. I turned ready to grab my dirty clothes off the ground when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My eyes shot up and froze.

I gasped and leaned forward, looking at myself closely in the mirror. My cheek was already bruising, a huge bump on it. My jaw was sore, making it hard for me to speak properly. My hair was dishevelled. My eyes had bags under them that I hadn’t noticed earlier. All because of him.

I felt my eyes sting as I brought back the memory. I looked away from myself and leaned against the sink, my breathing getting quicker. I felt the stinging in my eyes strengthen by the second. I shook my head as I remembered what he’d said to me.

“I can’t believe he called me that,” I breathed, a tear slipping down my cheek.

I closed my eyes, willing them to stop. My body didn’t want to listen.

“Matt? Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while,” Matt called through the door. His voice resounded in my mind.

I gasped slightly, my emotions winning. A sob slipped past my lips. My hand shot up to muffle them as they continued. I fell to the ground with my back pressed against the cold bath, my knees pulled up against me.

“Matt? What’s going on?” he asked his voice panicky.

He tried the door. Thankfully I’d been smart enough to lock it when I came in.

“Matt, open the door! Please!” he begged. Worry, fear and panic laced his voice.

I shook my head and covered my ears, tears rushing out of me as I tried to ignore the boy. He banged at the door and called me for several minutes, finally getting the hint that I wasn’t opening up. He gave up. I uncovered my ears and stared at the floor. The T.V. was on, playing softly in the background.

I laughed as the lyrics became clearer. It was ‘When I look at you.’ It’s so cliché. I hated how I related to the fucking song but... I did. It was the perfect song to bring me down more. Matt was the one I always turned to! When something fucked up in my family life or with an ex-girlfriend, he always talked me through it. Now it was his fault. He was the reason I wanted to scream! He was the reason I wanted to break something! Not some slut who wanted me for attention! One of my fucking friends! God, Nicholls, you sound like a fucking girl!

I took a breath, trying to control my hysteric breathing. I rubbed the tears from my eyes and swiped at my cheeks. I got up slowly and moved to the sink. I ran the water and cupped my hand under the flow, lowering my face to splash some onto it. I rubbed my eyes and wiped at my cheeks, hoping it would hide any proof of my tears.

I sighed when I saw my still puffy red eyes and my cheeks stained with subtle tear trails. I sighed and dried my face off, looking back to see if it helped which it didn’t. I turned to the door and reached for the handle, unlocking it.

I took a breath and opened the door slowly, turning off the light. I nearly screamed when I saw Matt sitting up against the door. His head snapped around and he shot up, hugging me as tightly as he could. I gasped and tried pushing him away. Surprisingly, he obliged and pulled away, looking down at the ground sadly.

I walked past him, dropping my clothes on the floor. I crawled onto my bed, leaning back on the headboard. I stared at the T.V. I could feel him staring at me from his bed. I was positive my ignoring him was driving him insane. I had no choice but to ignore him though. If I looked at him I’d just burst into tears again. I couldn’t let that happen. Not in front of him.

He gave up waiting for me to acknowledge him. He stood and sat down in front of me keeping a safe enough distance from me. I looked toward the window, his head now blocking the television.

"Matt," he murmured. I kept myself from reacting. "Matt, please look at me."

I kept my gaze on the window again. He reached forward and gently gripped my chin. He was most likely anticipating me ripping it away from him. I sighed and closed my eyes, giving into him.

He turned my face so I was looking at him and leaned forward. He had a desperate look on his face as he opened his mouth.

"I'm so sorry I did that," he said, gently brushing my cheek. "Were you... crying?"

I looked away, not wanting him to know. He didn't need to know. I didn't want him to know, either.

“Matt, look at me,” he continued. “I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have punched you. I’m so
sorry.”

I sighed at the sincerity in his voice, shaking my head.

“What?” he asked confused.

“Do you really think I’m crying because you punched me?” I whispered, keeping my eyes
down.

“Well yeah, I guess,” he replied. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“I really couldn’t care less about that,” I admitted.

“But- wait what?” he frowned.

“I don’t fucking care that you punched me! I’ve been punched before by a lot of my friends,” I
replied. He flinched. “Of course they were all drunk at the moment they did but I’ve still
been punched.”

“Then why were you crying like that?” he asked, his pain showing in his voice. Take that,
you asshole!

“It’s nothing,” I sighed.

“No, it is something! Matt, tell me!” he pressed, leaning even closer to me.

My eyes widened and swivelled any which way, trying to keep myself from looking at him. If I did I’d give in immediately.

“Matt! Come on! What is it that I said that made you cry? Please!” he repeated. I closed my
eyes tightly and shook my head frantically. “Christ, you’re fucking impossible, Nicholls!”

I kept my eyes shut and breathed in, trying to control my insane emotions. I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to hug him, I wanted to punch him! I didn’t fucking know
what I wanted with him!

“Matt, look at me! What did I say?” he begged. Tears rolled down my cheeks again.

“Fucking shut up Matt! I don’t want to talk about it!” I shrieked. My voice cracked as I began to sob.

*Kean*

He just broke down right there, right in front of me. His arms wrapped around his knees and he hid his face. His frame shook wildly. I frowned, trying to figure out what was wrong. His sobs got louder and I felt my chest constrict, my heart breaking at the sound.

“Fuck,” I murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

I wrapped my arms around him cautiously, waiting for him to force me off. His arms
wrapped tightly around my body and he pulled me closer to him. He buried his face in my chest, my hands running up and down his back soothingly.

I sighed, leaning my forehead against his head praying for his tears to subside quickly. I didn’t like hearing him cry. It bothered me like hell! I’ve never liked seeing friends cry but he was like...like... holy shit I’d go into a depression if he cried for more than a few minutes!
After twenty minutes his sobs slowly subsided. I sighed and kept my arms around him as he slowly regained his breath. He breathed against my neck. I blushed as my body reacted of its own accord, shivering.

Nicholls pulled away and wiped his eyes, looking away. He shook his head as I leaned forward, leaning back against his bed. I stared at him sadly, wishing -no praying- he would tell me what was bothering him.

“I...” he started after a moment. I perked up at the sound. “I’m going to sleep. G’night.”

My heart dropped and I watched as he lay back in his bed, pulling his sheets over his softly shaking body. He turned his back to me, closing his eyes and breathing softly. His breathing evened out after a few minutes, letting me know he was asleep.

I sighed and shook my head at his behaviour. He was making it harder than it had to be, really. If he would just tell what’s up then I could help him somehow.

I got up from his bed and moved to mine, slipping off my shirt and pants before climbing under the sheets. I glanced over at him a few more times, my mind still reeling, running, racing, just trying to figure out what the hell was wrong.