Georgia

“You’re going then?” Matt asks, feeling slightly betrayed. She stares helplessly at him, not sure what to say. “Then,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, looking away from her. “Then I’ll come with you.”
“Matt,” she breathes in protest. “No.”
“No?” He repeats.
“Matt,” she sighs, trying not to meet his befuddled eyes. They stand quietly.
“Oh,” he finally says, his heart sinking.
“Matt, it’s just,” she stumbles, “it’s just you’ve got plans.”
“I had plans,” he cuts her off. “With you.”
“Oh, Matt,” she cries, grabbing his hands in a burst of excitement. But she loses it, remembering why she’s here. “Matt,” she whispers. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay,” he mutters, pulling his hands out of hers, regretting her entirely. He wants to be angry. He wants so badly to be angry, but he’s just sad. He’s never been so sad. He can’t look at her. She presses her palm against his cheek, trying to look at him, but he steps back. “I’ll see you around then,” he says, waiting for her to leave.