Shallow Graves For Shallow Hearts

The next morning you woke to a loud bang and your mother screaming your name.

Here we go again.

You drag yourself from your bed and down the stairs into the kitchen where she stood angrily.

“Yes?” You ask half sarcastically knowing that the tone in your voice wasn’t going to help you.

“What have I said about eating junk for dinner?” She yells and you repress rolling your eyes. She got like this every time she was hung over, looking for every little reason to bitch at you. This was why you didn’t like the stupid mixers they went to because she always got shit faced and took her strangely horrendous hang over moods out on you. And of course it only ever seemed to be when your dad wasn’t around. It went hand in hand with the fact that she always acted like it never happened later that day.

She finally finishes her rant a few minutes later and you didn’t hear a single word of it. You had learned over the years how to tune her out completely. But you also know she’s not done yet so you turn on your heel and go back upstairs. There you gather your school bag and a clean uniform and a brush and make up; throwing them all in your bag and then grabbing your keys off the desk in the corner of your room.

You sneak past the kitchen where your mom is busy making herself coffee and then head straight out the door and into your car. There was no way in hell you were going to stay here for another hour and a half to be bitched at the entire time.

You drive down the familiar roads, stopping at a Starbucks to get two coffees before pulling up in front of his house. You get out of your car with the coffees, your bag, and the Mickey doll tucked under your arm and make your way up the path, kicking the door lightly knowing he was the only one home by now.

He answers the door almost instantly and your breath hitches in your throat. He’s wearing nothing but boxers and you can definitely tell he’s been working out by the way his stomach muscles that never used to be there clench with the slightest movement. His hair is flat and messy in a really sexy way and that thought worries you because never once have you ever thought of him as sexy. This was new.

“Lil bit early aren’t we?” He chuckles and the deep thickness to his voice tells you he just woke up.

“I brought you a Mickey and coffee to make up for it now let me in,” You push him aside along with all strange thoughts that clouded your mind.

“She did it again, didn’t she?” He asks following you into the living room where you drop your bag and put the coffees on the table. This wasn’t the first time you’d shown up early in the morning because of your mom’s irritating habit of yelling at you.

“Yup,” You nod and turn to face his, thrusting the doll in his face as a change of subject and he smiles widely and you notice how nice his smile really is.

“I don’t have this one yet,” He says and you’re hoping it will keep him distracted but as he pulls you down to sit next to him on the couch you know he’s going to make you talk about it. “Why don’t you tell your dad about it?”

You shrug, “Because it’s useless. She’ll deny it and it’ll just add problems to their already crumbling marriage anyway.”

“Well you’re 18 so you could always move out.”

“I don’t think either of them would be too pleased about that, and a part time job is definitely not enough to support myself.”

“Fair enough. But you know you’re always welcome to the empty space in my bed if it gets out of hand.” He tells you as you lean your head against his shoulder. You nod as you lapse into a short silence, both of you lost in thought.

“We should probably get ready for school,” You sigh after a few minutes.

“Yeah I still need to shower.”

“That’s what the horrible smell was?” You joke but he actually smelt really good, like worn cologne that had mixed with his natural body scent making it smell a million times better with a hint of coffee. It was a comforting scent.

He gets up and you immediately take up the rest of the space on the couch. You should probably shower too but it’s not like anyone will notice if you have or haven’t. Plus, he takes forever to shower and uses all the hot water.

You lay there for a few minutes longer before finally sitting up and reaching for your bag, pulling out the little makeup you brought. You sit on the floor with a tiny mirror, taking your time to do your makeup and brush out your hair until you hear the shower turn off. You get up off the floor and head up stairs and pause in front of his bedroom door, knocking loudly.

“I’m naked,” His voice muffled by the door.

You open the door anyway. “That’s nice, I need your bathroom.”

“There’s one down the hall you know,” He says, turning around.

“Yes but yours has my toothbrush. Nice tan lines by the way,” You say over your shoulder, his ass significantly paler than the rest of his body, before closing the door. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and your cheeks are a few shades darker than normal. Since when do you blush after seeing him nearly naked? That was new too. You shake the strange feeling that you can’t quite pinpoint away and grab your toothbrush and brush your teeth.

An hour later you’re in your car and driving towards the school. Once you’re there you head to your locker and separate, him going to Spanish and you to History.

You sit there staring at the board with no intent to pay attention, wishing you had convinced him to skip first period with you until a tap on your shoulder makes you jumps slightly.

You look in the direction that the tap came from to see one of the many school sluts smiling innocently at you. If you recalled correctly, this one’s name was Chelsea.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

“You’re friends with Matt right?” She asks.

“Mhmm,” You nod.

“Can you give him this for me?” She hands you a small piece of paper with a number scribbled on it. “Thanks.”

You’re unsure about what to do now. Chelsea isn’t as bad as some of the other girls at school, but she still has slept with at least half the senior and junior guys and she’s not really someone you could see him going for because she’s dumber than a sack of bricks.

“Would you ever sleep with Chelsea?” You ask him during the next period.

“The blonde one? No, why?”

“She wanted me to give you her number.”

“She knows who I am?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Apparently,” You shrug.

“Do you have her number?” He asks and you try to keep the bewildered look off your face as you pull the slip of paper from your blazer pocket. He takes it from you, reading the number before putting it in his pants pocket and looking back at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You just shake your head and pick your pen up to copy the notes down. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much that he actually took her number, but it did, a lot. But of course you’d never let him know that. There were few things that you kept from him and this would be one of them. It wasn’t like it was a really big secret or anything; you just didn’t have a reasonable explanation to why you were so angry about it.

You were quiet for the rest of the day, watching all the stares he got from the outer edges when you weren’t with him. You were still getting jealous glares any time you were within a ten foot radius of him too.

Even the drive back to his house was quiet. You didn’t have anything to say and the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach was still there and you didn’t know why.

“Is something wrong?” He asks as you pull up in front of his house for the second time today.

You avoid his stare and shake your head, “Nope, just tired.”

The look on his face tells you he doesn’t believe it but he also won’t press it, knowing that you’ll end up telling him eventually anyway. He kisses you on the cheek as per usual. You weren’t sure when that started being his signal for goodbye but it you kinda liked it. You watch as he gets out of the car and then slowly pull away lost in thought.

You start to wonder about the feeling in your stomach and the weird irrational angry you felt towards him taking a girls number. It never bothered you before so why was this time so different?

When the realization sinks in you slam on the breaks out of pure reflex causing the car behind you to almost rear end you. You shake yourself and start driving again, laughing at how absurd the thought was. There was no way you were jealous. You couldn’t be jealous. This was Matt we were talking about. Your best friend since you were three. You couldn’t be jealous because being jealous meant that you liked him and you most certainly did not like him in that way.

Did you?