Fools in Love

18. Carousels Are Only Fun at Parks

We sit facing ahead, at least, I'm assuming we both are. Matt doesn't say a word. Neither do I. Although it's the middle of fall, the air is sticky and humid. I'm short of breath even after the kiss has ended for--I glance at the radio--six minutes. Considering how long we were lost in the moment, maybe that is understandable. My lips are tingling. I press the back of my hand to them. Memories of our kiss flash, the sensation of Matt's lips, his scent in every breath, the visions surround me until I question what's real and what isn't.

"Did I upset you?" Matt asks, shattering the silence and escalating my panic.

"H-Huh?" I swing my head around fast, cracking my neck in the process. "W-What? N-N-No, why...no, definitely n-not! I, uh, t-the kiss was-was great!"

"Really?" He smirks, the taunting smile reaching his far too enticing eyes.

"Y-You know w-what I m-mean."

"Yeah." He nods. The tips of his ears are red. "So you don't...regret it, right?" He searches for an answer by looking me over. The attention has me swallowing hard.

"Regret?" I shake my head. To save myself, I look away. Meeting Matt's gaze is dangerous. I fear I'll drown in those ocean eyes. "No, uh, I guess I don't...understand."

"Understand?"

"You-you s-s-said you like...me?" The mere thought has me twisting my fingers painfully into my pants. The knuckles are fierce white. My nerves twist into throbbing knots, humming within me like the buzzing of drills. "Why me? I don't--you could h-have anyone. I'm a nobody. I'm-I'm just some s-short, scrawny, f-freckled dork-"

"You're cute," Matt interrupts. His voice is almost stern. "You're sweet. You're funny-"

"You must have terrible taste in humor."

He snorts. "You never give yourself enough credit. You're too nice for your own good sometimes. You're hardworking. You respected me from day one."

I face him in order to ask, "What do you mean?"

"You tried to pay me back for spilling food on my shirt." He chuckles. The smile he wears is so warm that it could chase away a winter storm. "How many people wanted you to do that purely because of who I am? How many didn't want you to purely because of who I am? And who is the one that told me it didn't matter whether I had money or not, paying me back was simply the right thing to do?"

Words try to form in my mouth. They crumble and fade away. Not Matt's though. He continues on, speaking as color blossoms beneath his eyes. "Maybe this sounds lame." He rubs the back of his neck. "But, you're really cool, Dana."

Cool? That isn't a word that I'd ever associate with myself. Matt though? Definitely. Cool. Admirable. Respectable. All of that and more, but he's trying to tell me I'm the cool one? I would laugh, but he's being serious. Matt is blunt, that's somehow both a good and bad quality. Good because you know he is being honest with you. Bad because sometimes he's too honest.

"Everyday I find something else to like about you," he adds as if he hasn't already burnt me to a crisp with his confession already. "But I get it if--" he rolls his shoulders. "If you don't feel the same. I'm sorry if this felt forced on you, or something."

Out of the two of us, the last person I expected to be self-conscious is Matt. Why would he ever have any reason to be? Especially in comparison to me. But he sits silently in the driver seat. Wrists resting on the wheel and hands limp as he gazes at the floor where his feet tap impatiently together.

There's a fork in the road with no clues of what awaits at the end. All I know is one leads to a relationship with Matt and another leads to a friendship falling apart. As much as I would like to think I could deny him and we'd remain friends, I don't have faith in myself. I like him. I like him a lot, but he's Matthew Jeneviere. He isn't some cute boy from nextdoor or even the cliche high school bad boy. He's a celebrity, someone with a past and a future I can't even fathom.