Reasons Not To Be An Idiot

I sit down in my favourite armchair, pulling my legs up underneath me to get comfortable and watch as Matthew sits down delicately on the couch just to the right of where I am. He coughs awkwardly and turns to me.

“So, Liza – where’s your dad?” He asks and I lean my head on the back of the armchair, puffing out my cheeks, just to let the air escape them seconds later. “You don’t have to answer, I’m just curious.” He adds cautiously at the end due to seeing response. I bring my head back forwards and shake it lightly.

“He’s gone to Madagascar.” I state simply, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. Which, I guess, it isn’t. He nods and looks down at his hands, which are situated in his lap, his thumbs rushing in and out of each other, making invisible patterns that only he knows and understands.

“How long for?” He asks, looking up from his hands as he does so. I shrug again, not knowing what else to do.

“Didn’t say.” His small smile turns into a frown at my answer and I just shrug again. “Why the frown? I’m used to it – I never know how long he’s going to be gone for.” I hear him sigh quietly as I stare at my hands, pulling at the loose threads at the bottom of my dad’s jumper.

“Is that his?” I look up at him questionably, and he quickly explains. “The jumper, I mean. Is it your dads?” I let a small ‘o’ shape form on my mouth and I nod my head, closing my mouth in the process. He also nods, lighter than what mine was, and I smile slightly, letting my gaze fall back down to my hands.

“He gave it to me when I was 12.” I mumble, unsure as to why I’m telling him. “It was the first time he left to do a job that was longer than a day or two. My mum was never around and I was always left either at a friend’s house or with a babysitter. I hated it.” I glance to see a sad look spread across his face as he listens to me. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.” I mumble, my forehead creasing in confusion. I look up at him. “I don’t even really know anything about you.” He stares back at me, with a look in his eyes that I can’t make out.

“What do you want to know?” He’s still staring intently at me, and I still can’t work out what the look in his eyes is. I crease my eyebrows again in confusion, the feeling of unease creeping across my mind slowly, engulfing it almost entirely.

“How old are you?” I mumble, breaking the lock between our eyes and staring down at my hands, barely able to see any part of him at all.

“Twenty one.” He pauses. I see him pick up his coffee out of the corner of my eye. He puts it back down again, I see, before adding, “Almost twenty two.” I nod my head in response and move my eyes to look at him, avoiding eye contact.

“When’s your birthday?” I ask pathetically.

“Six months time, roughly.” I nod again, half expecting him to carry on and tell me the date. He catches on and shakes his head lightly, laughing slightly at himself. “The fourteenth of April.” He smiles and I can’t help but smile slightly too. “When’s yours?”

“Fifteenth.” I mumble, moving myself to sit cross-legged on the chair. I realise quickly that I haven’t specified what month and I curse under my breath, adding a rushed, “Of June. My birthday is the fifteenth of June.” I feel my cheeks heating up, causing me to cough and stand up awkwardly. “I, uhh… Do you want another coffee?” I ask sheepishly, trying to cover my face.

“No, it’s fine, thanks. I still have some left.” He smiles. I nod and turn to walk out of the room.

“I’ll be back in a second.” I mumble, loud enough for him to hear, as I rush out of the room. I quickly run up the stairs, taking them two at a time as I bite my lip in an attempt to stop myself crying. “Pull yourself together, El.” I whisper in a hushed tone to myself as I enter the bathroom and quickly shut the door behind me, locking it and leaning my back against it, letting myself slide down it to sit on the floor. I groan and place my head in my hands, shaking my head angrily from side to side. “Why are you even crying?” I mumble to myself and lift my head, wiping my eyes furiously with the end of my sleeve. “I’m so pathetic.” I sigh. Now I’m even talking to myself – proof that I’ve completely lost it. I drop my head down onto my knees and stare at the floor around my feet. I let my eyes slip closed as my mind wanders into a daydream, completely forgetting about the incredibly sexy guy sitting in my living room.

*

“El? El, are you up here?” A knock on the door jolts me back into reality and I jump slightly, my back arching away from the door in surprise, my eyes shooting open. “Are you – are you okay in there?”

I push myself up off the floor, spinning around at the same time to face the door. “Yeah, I’m fine! I’ll be out in just a second.” I shake myself awake and brush down my clothes, saving a mental note to never sit on the bathroom floor again, and turn the lock on the door, grabbing the handle with my free hand and pulling the door towards me. I take a step out the door, taking a sharp left and come face to face with stubble. My breath hitches in my throat and makes me cough.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?” Strong hands place themselves either side of my shoulders and I nod quickly, bringing my hands up to my chest, clutching the ends of the sleeves tightly. I raise my head slightly to see his eyes, and my heart races slightly faster in my chest.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” A small smile graces my lips, and his thumbs rub my upper arms softly. “I just didn’t expect to see you standing so close.” His worried expression switches to a smile, the corners of his eyes wrinkling attractively. “So, uhh… Shall we go back downstairs?” He removes his hands from my forearms and shrugs.

“I saw some photography pinned up on the wall just down the hall – is it yours?” I cross my arms over my chest casually, leaning on the wall to my right.

“All the photography in the house is either mine or my dads.” He smiles and nods, turning slightly.

“Can you show me some of your work?” I shrug, pushing myself off of the wall and walking past him, towards my photography room.

“It’s just this way, if you want to follow me.” I see him nod from the corner of my eye as he follows me down the hallway and around the corner. I stop short of the door and groan in frustration as I look down at the floor to see my camera and props where I left them earlier. “I know I forgot something!” I complain and bend down to pick them up.

“Forget something?” I turn around to see Matthew smirking at me knowingly. I roll my eyes and nudge open the door with my elbow.

“Shut it, you’re a guest in this house.” I smirk at him, and his falters the slightest bit. I walk into the room, still holding my camera and props, and stand against the door, indicating with my head for him to enter the room. Upon walking into the room, he pauses in front of me, smiles, and takes the camera from my hands. I transfer the props from my left hand to my right hand and outstretch my left arm to hit his arm as he passes. He stops walking and turns back to me.

“Did you just hit me?” He raises an eyebrow and I nod, moving away from the door to let it fall shut.

“You took my camera.” I state simply, placing the props on the desk to my right and crossing my arms over my chest in defence. He shrugs, smiling at me, then turns his attention to my camera.

“This is a really good camera.” He looks back up at me and I shrug, not thinking much of his statement.

“Really good photographers use really good cameras.”

“You reckon you’re a really good photographer then, eh?” I nod once, the left side of my mouth twitching up into a smirk. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He winks and I drop my gaze to the floor, a blush instantly coating my cheeks in red.

*

“They’re good – average.” He turns his head to me and smiles, placing his hands on the desk in front of him and standing up. “I was doing better when I was your age, but they’re not bad for a seventeen-year-old girl like yourself.” He smiles again and I scoff, utter disbelief traced all over my face.

“Since when did you become a sexist, ageist prick?” I say angrily through clenched teeth.

He raises his eyebrows at my, a look of shock etched on his face. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me! Who the hell are you to critisise my work? I don’t even know who the hell you are! Seriously, who are you? How do you even know my dad, or where I live? What are you; some kind of stalker? I don’t know why I ever thought yo might be nice a guy, or why I thought you were really fucking good-looking! You’re just a prick. A sexist, ageist, inconsiderate prick!” I whisper the last word, my hands bllaed up in fists at my sides as I stare at him, staring at me. He opens his mouth to speak. “Don’t say anything. You came over to drop off a package, and you’ve done that. So you can leave.” He opens his mouth to speak again and I turn away, walking to the door and holding it open for him. “First you can walk through this door, then I’ll open the next one for you. Either you leave by yourself or I’ll, quite literally, kick you out of the door. Your choice, Matthew.” I say bitterly, spitting out his name as if it’s poisonous.

He stares at me in disbelief, pushes the chair away from his legs and walks out of the room. I follow suit straight after him, angrily walking around him and walking quickly down the stairs, reaching the front door and yanking it open. Seconds later, he reaches the bottom of the stairs, grabs his coat from the banister and walks throught the front foor.

“I’ll tell my dad you popped round, don’t bother coming round again and, in future, you can post packages to him, or get someone else to drop them off.” I smile sweetly at him and wave, waiting for him to move out of the doorway so I can close the door and get rid of him.

“Whatever you say, El.”

“Don’t call me that.” I say harshly and he raises his hands in defeat.

“Sorry.” He backs away from the door and I roll my eyes, pushing the door closed with one hand. Before the door clicks back into place, it stops abruptly and I whip round to the door, ready to shout at Matthew again if it’s his fault. “So, you think I’m ‘really fucking good-looking’ do you, Elizabeth?” He winks, removing his foot from blocking my door and I roll my eyes at him, shouting back my reply as he walks away, towards his car.

“I did think that, yeah. Past tense, you fucking idiot!” I hear him laugh as he turns around upon reaching his car.

“See you later, beautiful!” He shouts back, his voice full of confidence and I can tell from here that he’s smirking in the cocky way that I’ve already noticed he has. I slam the door shut and stomp back up the stairs to my photography room, slamming the door shut behind me and grabbing my camera, roughly putting the strap around my neck and setting up my props.

“Average photography my fuckin’ ass.” I mumble as I put my camera into the settings I want and snap a few tests shots. I’ll show him ‘average’ photography.