Taste

Over the next few days, the widespread news of my "assault" on Holly began to dull. Nobody would speak to me to get my side, but still, their accusations would weigh me down. Just because there were no vocals to them didn't mean that they did not exist.

Walking home, solely invited alone to my thoughts, I was quick to pick up on the upcoming footsteps. They deliberately avoided drying puddles. Luckily for Manchester, we weren't supposed to have rain again for the rest of the week.

Turning as soon as they were close enough, I raised my arm, prepared.

"Whoa! Easy there, love,"

I stared into the face of the year's golden boy, Matt Simmons, eager to break it all the more, somehow. Like most others, I'd barely spoken a word to him, but yet, we knew the ins and outs of his personal life.

It had been school knowledge since year nine that he was part of a fucked-up family. As far as I'd heard, his uncle was actually his father and his older sister was a radical OneLifer.

Yet, through the harsh rumours and laughter, he'd stayed grounded. Humble. So, his popularity lived on.

And, of course, like every other human being with feelings, that made me hate him.

Matt winked. "You may be badass, but I never took you for a fighter. You roughed up Holly pretty bad."

"Really? Because I could've sworn she was still sitting on top of the world."

My tone and glare weren't enough to send him scampering, so I carried on walking, hoping to lose him somewhere along the way. Preferably sooner than later.

However, it seemed Mother Earth wasn't on my side and he maintained pace.

Gee, whatever had I done to deserve this?

"She's quite good at that, you see. Not letting people see the real her."

Feeling his heavy stare, I didn't dare challenge it. I knew his game – and I wouldn't play.

I tugged on my bag strap, preoccupying myself with something that wasn't him. For almost as long as I could remember, Matt hadn't even said hi to me. I'd been aware of his existence for more than seven years, but this was the first time he'd ever reciprocated acknowledgement. I'd almost been convinced that I was invisible to him.

This couldn't just be Holly, I thought, he's after something else.

"So, I wanted to ask you," Here it comes, brace yourself, I prepared myself. "Halloween is soon and so is the dance. I was wondering if you..."

Stopping in my tracks because it's all I could do, I faced him squarely. His fawn brown hair fell over his forehead and into his eyes, an abyss of colour that gazed at me with such trepidation, and need.

I didn't know if I could ever belong in their line of sight, so I shifted, somehow too keen to be rid of him already.

When I say that I hated him, that wasn't all true. He and I were so different, in complete contrast in personality and goals, it could only end with one of us getting hurt. I shouldn't even be in his frame of mind, ever. Opposites exist, only to eradicate the other.

Frankly, I'd spent enough time mulling over the impossible, today simply could not pave the same road.

"...with me?"

I blinked. I'd missed the last of that, and it showed. Despite his confident manner, a little boy stared back at me, too willing to be of use.

"What?"

Sighing, he tried again, although I internally begged he stop. "The Halloween Dance, do you want to go with me?"

If I could laugh about it, then I would. Not because going to the thing with him was funny (although it kind of was, I admit), but the idea of me being anywhere else that night sounded far more appealing.

In case it wasn't clear: me and people? Not a good combo.

Honestly, it was nothing against Matt, I'm pretty sure he's a decent guy, but I could be doing plenty of other things that were potentially a lot more fun.

"You're sweet but, no, I'm not going."

"Why not? I figured that Halloween was your perfect time of year."

Besides myself, I smiled, soft. We were fast approaching my street, but I didn't want to close the door on his face. I'd said it before and I'd happily say it again; Matt was insanely cute and adorable.

And I couldn't picture myself ever being part of his world. I was merely a dent in his fender, he'd upgrade soon enough.

"Yeah, but you and I and everyone else knows I just don't do people." I sucked in my cheeks, stopping again, so I could admire him without blur.

He chuckled, a noise in itself that made my stomach flutter.

"That's true. You're something..." Reaching out, he played with a half-coil on my head. His touch was gentle, nimble, like nothing I'd ever had the pleasure of before. "I just cannot seem to figure you out."

I swallowed. There weren't enough words in the universe to describe what he did to me.

Stupid girl, I scolded myself. He's being friendly. He probably only even asked me to the dance out of pity, or because of a dare. He didn't know or care about me. I would end up being nothing but a speck of dust in his head, one he'd wipe away in a day or two.

I wasn't important. I couldn't be. I wouldn't allow it.

So, I recoiled from his touch, expecting something horrible to cross over his face. Instead, he kept his jovial expression and wished me a good day, walking off like a piece of God's puzzle he was.

And I realised how fucked I was.