The Book of Matthew (The Alex Chronicles Book 1) (16 page)

We arrived at Bobby’s biology classroom. He stopped in front of the doorway and looked at me with large, unblinking eyes. Students pushed passed him to get through.

In that moment he seemed so much shorter. I didn’t have to raise my head as high to look in his eyes. Had he shrunk over the summer? Or had the strength from a healing heart made me grow taller?

“Cut me some slack,” Bobby said. “What do I know about love?” He rummaged through his book bag and discretely pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights. “Cigarettes?”

I didn’t tell Bobby I had quit smoking during the summer. I sensed it wasn’t merely cigarettes he was handing to me.

I quickly took the pack and put it in the front zippered compartment of my book bag. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You know I keep cigarettes around for times like this.”

“I know. To break the ice and make friends.”

Bobby grinned. “Yeah. But this time it’s more like, to re-break the ice and re-make friends.”

I smiled. Bobby Fraser always had an answer or a solution for everything.

I.

Lisa smelled the withering bouquet of red roses that sat wilting on her desk, then sat down cross-legged on her bed to read. I was stretched out on my stomach on my bed, a textbook on art history open in front of me. It was a brisk, sunny day and we were both studying for midterm exams.

“How’s Matt?” she asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you do anything for Valentine’s Day?”

“No.”

“Not even a romantic dinner?”

I laughed. “Where can you do that around here? Kilmore Diner?”

“You didn’t do anything at all? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Why not?”

“Because Matt and I are just friends,” I said. “And besides, Valentine’s Day is a scam. Greeting card companies, chocolate makers, and florists all conspired together to invent a holiday so they could mark up their prices and boost profits. It’s a sick marketing ploy. ”

Lisa was silent for a moment, as if unsure how to respond. “Well, I think Valentine’s Day is romantic.”

I pointed at the flowers. “Of course you would.”

She stuck her tongue out at me. Then she said, “Still insisting you and Matt are just friends?”

“Yup. Just friends.”

Lisa sighed. “Whatever.”

I hadn’t told Lisa about my “friends with benefits” status with Matt. I didn’t want to risk hearing a lecture from Miss I-Have-The-Perfect-Boyfriend about the hazards of sex without commitment. And I especially didn’t want to hear a lecture about the hazards of sex without commitment with a guy who has a girlfriend.

“He has a girlfriend back home,” I said, hoping that would convince her.

“Really? Bummer. So that’s why you’re always sneaking around.”

I sat up, alarmed by her comment, afraid that I had not been as cautious as I thought. “What are you talking about? I’m not sneaking around.”

She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Right.” She opened a pack of crackers that was sitting on her bed and started nibbling on one.

“You don’t believe me?”

She finished chewing the mouthful of cracker and swallowed. “You’re always running off to Kentmore. You never hang around here anymore. I can’t even remember what Matt looks like. I’ve only ever seen him once.”

She offered me a cracker.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I don’t want to steal the only food you’ll eat all day.”

Lisa straightened her back. “Alex! Don’t be cruel!”

Lisa had been thin her whole life. It was another thing I wanted to hate her for but couldn’t. I couldn’t hate her for her metabolism. Heredity’s not her fault.

She seemed thinner than usual lately. It’s hard to tell in the winter season if someone’s lost weight. Layers of clothing and bulky sweaters can easily hide sagging skin and caving stomachs and protruding ribs and collar bones.

But pure nakedness can’t lie.

One day while Lisa was bent over changing into her pajamas, I glanced over and saw a long line of vertebrae poking through her arched back like a Stegosaurus.

She was still jogging every day with Adam and his friends. She claimed she was stressed about midterms, and that stress causes her to lose her appetite. Jogging helped ease her stress. And as busy as she was, she probably just didn’t have time to eat. Perhaps the combination of the three had resulted in her weight loss.

Perhaps.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay. But seriously, what’s going on?”

I sensed Lisa wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted: a confession.

“Fine,” I said. “Matt and I are more than just friends.”

“I knew it!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Matt’s dating two girls at once. What a stud.”

“We’re not dating,” I said. “I told you, it’s complicated.”

“Right. I forgot. He only comes around when he wants something.”

I sighed deep and prepared to deal with her lecture. “That’s not true.”

“Mm-hmm. How much of his homework have you helped him with?”

I shrugged.

“And how many papers of his have you edited in two semesters?”

“I don’t know, Lisa. Four or five, I guess. What’s your point?”

“You’re probably single-handedly responsible for his GPA.”

“Don’t exaggerate. I am not. Matt’s not stupid.”

“And he repays you by giving you guitar lessons?”

“That’s the agreement we worked out,” I said. “He gives me guitar lessons and I edit his papers.”

I wasn’t about ready to tell Lisa that the guitar lessons had stopped weeks before. It wasn’t a conscious decision Matt and I made; it just happened. Every Monday night when we got together to make music, we wound up making it on the practice room rug. Before long, we were getting together every Monday night just to screw—and any other time the urge hit us. Our desire to play the guitar had been eclipsed by our desire to play with each other. We actually did it on top of the piano once.

Kentmore had a lot to do with it. The building was just too damn convenient. When that convenience tempted us, we retreated to the privacy and seclusion of our soundproof lair.

And even though the private guitar lessons had stopped, I continued to edit all his papers.

“It doesn’t sound fair to me,” Lisa said.

“Why not?”

“Learning to play the guitar won’t help you later on in life as much as his good grades will help him. You’re totally getting the short end of the stick.”

“I’ve learned a lot because of Matt.” Then, joking, I said, “And the sex is good.”

Lisa shook her head. “That’s it? Guitar lessons and sex? That’s all he’s given you?”

“It’s not like the sex means
nothing
. Matt and I do care about each other. Not every relationship can be as perfect as yours.”

“At least Adam and I
have
a relationship,” she said.

“We’re just having fun, Lisa. There’s no harm in that.”

“But he has a girlfriend!”

“So what?”

“You both should be ashamed of yourselves. Don’t you feel guilty?”

“Why should I? I don’t even know who she is. I probably never will, either. She lives hours away and never comes to visit Matt. Besides, she had this coming.”

“How do you figure?”

“Bible-thumping bitch cheated on him.”

“And that makes it okay for you to help Matt cheat on her?”

I pounded my fist on the bed. “Damn right. I’m going to do to her what she did to him. Eye for eye and tooth for tooth.”

Lisa threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine! You win!”

She returned to reading her book. I did the same, but I couldn’t concentrate. I was irked at how our conversation had ended.

Lisa and I never fought. We didn’t know each other well enough to argue. We were simply roommates who giggled at each other’s funny stories and kept our emotions at a safe distance. It’s hard enough sharing a room with someone; we didn’t feel the need to share anything else. We were only casually involved in each other’s lives, and our most heartbreaking secrets were buried deep beneath the surface. I, for example, never told her about my father. And I only found out by accident when her mother let it slip on graduation day that Lisa had been plagued by anorexia since high school.

“I hope you don’t owe him any money,” Lisa whispered under her breath.

I snapped my head up and glared at her. “What?”

She looked at me without a word.

“What did you say?” I repeated.

Lisa flung her blonde hair back away from her face. “I said I hope you don’t owe Matt any money.”

“What would make you say that?”

“I’ve been asking around about him.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you!”

“Well, don’t be,” I said. “I’m fine. Worry about yourself.”

I hadn’t meant anything by that comment, but as Lisa stared at me with her watery blue eyes, I got the sense that she
was
worried about herself. She was worried about midterms, and her relationship with Adam, and perhaps her weight. I saw it. And I saw the worry in her eyes for me too.

She sighed heavily. “There’s something not right about him.”

I knew but I didn’t know.

“Who have you been talking to?” I said.

“I asked Adam if he knew Matt. He doesn’t, but he said the name sounded familiar. So he asked some of the guys on the track team. It turns out one of them owes Matt money. A kid named Chris Murphy.”

“So what? Lots of people owe Matt money.”

“Chris told Adam that Matt won’t leave him alone. He shows up at Chris’s dorm unannounced all the time, waits for him after track practice, he’s even memorized his class schedule.” She shuddered. “It’s like he’s a stalker. It’s creepy!”

I shrugged. “I’ve memorized your class schedule. And you know mine by heart.”

“That’s different. We’re roommates.”

“Well, maybe Chris is giving Matt a hard time, being a jerk, refusing to pay him back, or maybe he doesn’t have the money or…” I trailed off. I had run out of excuses for Matt. “I’m sure it’s not like that,” I concluded. “He’s not a stalker.”

“Adam says it is like that,” Lisa said. “And I believe him.”

I hadn’t convinced either of us that what Chris told Adam wasn’t true. Some of it made sense. The times Matt showed up to our guitar lessons out of breath, as if he’d been running. The time he said he’d be late to our lesson because of some unexplained thing he had to do. The hostility that Ted and Bob seemed to have for him, despite their close relationship. Had I been so consumed by desire to not notice these things?

Sure, he was obsessed with money. But a stalker? No way. He was probably just tired of waiting for people, tired of being avoided, tired of the lies and false promises of re-payment. There was an explanation, an answer to everything. I’d find it.

The chirp of the phone startled me. I reached over and caught it on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Alex. It’s Matt.”

I looked over at Lisa. “Hi,
Matt
.”

Lisa rolled her eyes and went back to reading her book.

“You busy?” he asked.

“Just studying for a midterm tomorrow.”

“Need a break?”

I shot a glance at Lisa again. She was nibbling on another cracker. “Definitely.”

“Want to get together?”

“Name the place.”

“I think you know where.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“All right. See you then.”

I hung up the phone and pulled on a pair of sneakers lying next to the bed.

“Speak of the devil,” Lisa said.

I grabbed my coat and walked out of the room without a word. Lisa yelled just as I was slamming the door shut behind me. “Have fun!”

…

Matt and I sat next to each other on the floor, leaning against one of the padded walls in the practice room of Kentmore Hall. I sat cross-legged with my arms in my lap; Matt spread his legs out in front of him with his book bag sitting on his knees.

“Do you know Adam Hill?” I asked.

Matt unzipped his book bag and started rummaging through it. “Name sounds familiar.”

“He’s my roommate’s boyfriend. He runs track.”

“Yeah? That’s cool.”

“One of his track friends apparently owes you money.”

He stopped and thought for a moment. “Chris Murphy,” he said.

“That’s him.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Why do you say that?”

Matt pulled some papers out of his bag. “I leant him ten bucks because he said he was short on cash and he refuses to pay me back.”

“How do you know him?”

“We have a class together. He’s a finance major too.”

“How long ago did you lend it to him?”

“About a month ago.”

“Why won’t he pay you back?” I asked.

“Chris said he thought I was
giving
him the money. He was under the impression that he wouldn’t have to pay me back.”

“Did he specifically ask to borrow money from you?”

Matt eyed me. “What’s with all the fucking questions?”

“I’m just curious.”

He grunted. “No. It just came up in conversation that he was broke. Guess I can kiss that money goodbye. Anyway, enough about that.” He motioned to the set of papers he was holding.

I sighed. “What class is it for this time?”

“Financial Accounting. It’s not that long, I swear.”

“Honestly, I don’t know how you understand all that numbers stuff.”

“My dad pounded it into me from an early age.”

“It must have worked because money sure does fascinate you.”

Matt shrugged. “Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.”

“Then why—”

“Will you read it or not?” Matt interrupted.

“I guess. But I won’t understand a word of it. Just like I didn’t understand that last paper on…what was it again?”

“Principles of microeconomics.”

“Yeah, that.”

Matt leaned over and kissed my cheek. He flashed a crooked smile. “Come on. Please?”

I grabbed the papers from him. “Fine. I’ll drop it off sometime tomorrow.”

“Deal. And don’t worry. Christine can’t—” Matt stopped himself.

It was the first time he had mentioned Christine in two months, since that day in January when I gave him the watch and he told me they were back together.