Taste

I was nibbling on my second carrot stick, reading my book, when the proportions of my table changed dramatically. It was a fight not to look up, since anyone with a reputation to salvage wouldn't dare to be seen with me, unless completely necessary. Besides, they obviously did it for attention, and I hate boosting ego bars.

Stopping mid-chew, I met the dark eyes of Matt. I hadn't heard from him since our previous encounter, which I secretly wished he'd forgotten about.

But, if the wide-spread of his mouth was anything to go by, he definitely hadn't.

Fuck me.

"Have you thought any more about my offer?" Laying his hands out in front of him, he messaged his nails and the tips of his fingers.

I turned back to my current page. "It's still a no."

His chuckle was loud, grabbing. He was looking to have a conversation, or a friendly chat, in the least with me. Who did I piss off lately to have these people want to be in my orbit?

It wasn't right, I hated it.

Tilting my book up so he could inspect it, I resisted from lunging over the table and smacking his head into it.

No one disrespected books like that.

"Let the Right One In? A modern classic. American remake was shit, though."

I lowered it. Damn him, he'd gotten exactly what he wanted.

"It's one of my favourites."

"Figures, honestly."

I sighed heavily. "Why are you even talking to me? Don't you have Oxford or Cambridge applications to oh-so graciously accept?"

That wasn't bitter, I swear.

Matt, however, was unfazed. In fact, it looked as if he had enjoyed my little quip.

For years, I thought I had him pinned down. He was held at the highest standard in our year, perfect in almost subject, his grades had always been consistently brilliant, and better as we got older. The worst thing I'd ever heard about him (besides his fucked-up family) was that he had a splodge on his permanent record. The rumor mill went insane over it, with claims that he was going to get expelled and such, but the most he got was a slap on the wrist and a break from learning.

In June, he'd took a week's absence for it. People said it was a court hearing, others said it was to visit his wayward sister... Either way, we were left guessing. There were no results as of yet, and that was okay with me.

Because, admittedly, I had him written off as The Golden Boy. He could do no wrong, he showed no weakness; nothing could tear him down. There were next to no flaws in Matt's entirety.

Maybe I was stupid to think that. He was only human. We make mistakes, we trip and stumble. He was bound to have made a misstep somewhere, it was a matter of whether or not I had the patience to uncover it.

"There's never a dull moment with you, is there?"

My eyes narrowed of their own accord, closing my book over. At the same time, I could see the folks from his ordinary table examining us.

"I'm being serious, Matt. Why are you talking to me? Am I part of a bet or something?"

He looked offended, ashy lips pouting.

"I'm not that kind of guy! Yeah, it's true, I never thought of you much until Holly told me the story of how you went berserk on her. I looked for you through the whole of the day and when I saw you... I didn't see a psycho. I just saw a lonely girl who could use a friend. Forgive me for trying to be one, you clearly don't know what to do with them."

He'd arisen from his seat, scowling not at me, but the space I occupied. The cloud hanging over my head began to form a rainfall.

When I stood up too, he pretended not to let on that he was surprised, and I admired that. He kept his cool, even when the girl he'd just insulted was squaring up to him.

"You're right, I don't know how to act around people. I'm surrounded by them every day, but I don't know them. I have no idea what goes on in their lives and I couldn't care. They're repulsed by me and I've had to live with that." I stopped, taking in his brilliant self again. That skin tone was wonderful, a great mix of the darkest and lightest of humans.

Edging only slightly closer, I cringed noticeably when his breath fanned my hair.

"But you're not. If you'd stop asking me out to this stupid dance, I could try to be better with you."

And, almost as if it was never there to begin with, the sour expression faded. It was replaced with what could be mistaken for ecstasy.

"Great. Holly's having a party tonight, so you're officially invited." Those teeth of his were mesmerising. Money really does buy, I guess.

I backtracked. I'd made him a counter-offer, this was not going according to plan.

"I don't do parties."

"I don't do lame excuses. Look, I'll pick you up and everything, you don't have to worry."

I opened my mouth to protest once more, but when I stared into those eyes again, I found myself to be putty in his hands. From the start, he knew he'd win this, I could tell.

So, I limply shrugged and plopped back down on my seat, staring at the front of my book.

Let the right one in? Yeah, I wish I knew who the right one was.

"You can come as you are, there's no pressure to doll yourself up. Not like it would do much anyway, you already know you're gorgeous."

I went to gape at him but when I raised my head, he was gone, returning to his friends. Each one of them prodding him for information but, for now, receiving nothing.

I wondered if it was like that all the time or if, indeed, I was a special case.

Since there was no point in working myself up about it, I tried to clear Matt completely from my mind. Anything was better than visualising those unfathomable eyes watching me, close, eager to break me down.

It was difficult, especially when I caught sight of him across the way, laughing with his mates. I could hardly bare to sit still, knowing everything I did.

Fuck.