Nothing Like You and I
Chapter Two
Oli cannot help but feel slightly sorry for their new passenger, seeing as Jona has taken the opportunity to chatter nonstop about the fight that landed him in jail the previous night.
"So then this giant cocky fucker takes a swing at me, but I'm smart, y'know? So I just ducked under it and punched him in the gut. He didn't seem to be affected, giant troll that he was, so then he goes and-"
Oli cuts him off. "Jona. I'm sure that last night was fucking exciting, but I don't think Matt wants every, let alone any, detail. Leave him alone."
The smallest hint of a smile appears on Matt's face. People don't stick up for him often.
Those damn intense eyes of his wouldn't leave Oli alone, seemed to be hiding something. A past, a complex personality, perhaps something more. Whatever it is, Oli is polite enough to not ask.
After about twenty minutes of driving the car pulls into a small restaurant parking lot. Oli and Jona usually stop here after Oli bails him out, but Matt has never been there, and looks around curiously as they enter. The inside has got a very rustic look to it. Oli and Jona take their normal seat, a booth near a large oil painting of a rural landscape. Matt sits alone on one side, plucking at the skin on the back of his hand. Oli is the first to speak.
"So, what landed you in jail in the first place?"
Matt looks up at them from behind the bangs that have fallen into his eyes. "This guy...he owed me some money, and he didn't want to give it to me. So we got into a fight out on the street, and then I ended up getting arrested. The guy ran for it."
There's obviously more to the story. Before either Oli or Jona can question their new companion further, a blonde with smokey green eyes comes up to their table, order pad in hand and a pen stuck behind her ear.
"Hey Oliver, Jona! Who's your new friend, I haven't seen him before."
Any sense of comfort in front of Matt is completely drained from Oli's mind. His cover, his beloved cover, blown with a simple hello. Jona bites his lip and runs a hand down his face.
"Aww, fuck..."
Matt looks Oli over now, scanning over his curves and breasts.
"Oliver? Oli is short for Oliver?"
The girl's smile falls away as quickly as Oli's sense of comfort. She threads her tongue nervously through the ring in her lip.
"Oh, I messed up, didn't I?"
She backs away slowly, muttering, "I'll be back in a little while," as she heads towards another table. Jona drums his fingers on the tabletop nervously for a few seconds before dreaming up his own escape.
"Oh, look at that, someone I know. I'll just, uh, just leave you two here for a second, be right back..."
He, too, vacates the table, leaving Oli and Matt alone. Oli is nervously playing with his purse strap, twisting it around in his fingers until Matt finally speaks up.
"You're a guy?"
"...Technically, yeah."
"You've got tits."
"Plastic surgery does wonders," Oli deadpans.
There's a pause as Matt seems to think things over. Oli can practically taste the tension in the air.
After about half a minute of silence, Matt reaches nonchalantly for a menu and says,
"Okay, cool."
Oli looks up at him, watching him scan the items on the fancily bordered menu. The comfort comes rushing back.
"Yeah. Cool."
"So then this giant cocky fucker takes a swing at me, but I'm smart, y'know? So I just ducked under it and punched him in the gut. He didn't seem to be affected, giant troll that he was, so then he goes and-"
Oli cuts him off. "Jona. I'm sure that last night was fucking exciting, but I don't think Matt wants every, let alone any, detail. Leave him alone."
The smallest hint of a smile appears on Matt's face. People don't stick up for him often.
Those damn intense eyes of his wouldn't leave Oli alone, seemed to be hiding something. A past, a complex personality, perhaps something more. Whatever it is, Oli is polite enough to not ask.
After about twenty minutes of driving the car pulls into a small restaurant parking lot. Oli and Jona usually stop here after Oli bails him out, but Matt has never been there, and looks around curiously as they enter. The inside has got a very rustic look to it. Oli and Jona take their normal seat, a booth near a large oil painting of a rural landscape. Matt sits alone on one side, plucking at the skin on the back of his hand. Oli is the first to speak.
"So, what landed you in jail in the first place?"
Matt looks up at them from behind the bangs that have fallen into his eyes. "This guy...he owed me some money, and he didn't want to give it to me. So we got into a fight out on the street, and then I ended up getting arrested. The guy ran for it."
There's obviously more to the story. Before either Oli or Jona can question their new companion further, a blonde with smokey green eyes comes up to their table, order pad in hand and a pen stuck behind her ear.
"Hey Oliver, Jona! Who's your new friend, I haven't seen him before."
Any sense of comfort in front of Matt is completely drained from Oli's mind. His cover, his beloved cover, blown with a simple hello. Jona bites his lip and runs a hand down his face.
"Aww, fuck..."
Matt looks Oli over now, scanning over his curves and breasts.
"Oliver? Oli is short for Oliver?"
The girl's smile falls away as quickly as Oli's sense of comfort. She threads her tongue nervously through the ring in her lip.
"Oh, I messed up, didn't I?"
She backs away slowly, muttering, "I'll be back in a little while," as she heads towards another table. Jona drums his fingers on the tabletop nervously for a few seconds before dreaming up his own escape.
"Oh, look at that, someone I know. I'll just, uh, just leave you two here for a second, be right back..."
He, too, vacates the table, leaving Oli and Matt alone. Oli is nervously playing with his purse strap, twisting it around in his fingers until Matt finally speaks up.
"You're a guy?"
"...Technically, yeah."
"You've got tits."
"Plastic surgery does wonders," Oli deadpans.
There's a pause as Matt seems to think things over. Oli can practically taste the tension in the air.
After about half a minute of silence, Matt reaches nonchalantly for a menu and says,
"Okay, cool."
Oli looks up at him, watching him scan the items on the fancily bordered menu. The comfort comes rushing back.
"Yeah. Cool."