with my buddy
961 Words
Matilda sat at the edge of her bed, the glow from the hallway light slicing across the floor like a curfew reminder.
She hadn't done anything wrong.
Not yet.
Still, her fingers trembled as she replayed the brief moment in the hallway—Jason’s nod, the flicker of a smile, the way her stomach twisted like it wanted to confess something she hadn’t even done.
She pressed her palms to her knees to steady herself.
A knock sounded on the door, followed by the slow creak of it opening. Her father stood in the doorway, broad-shouldered and unreadable.
“It’s ten.”
“I know. I was just... thinking.”
He stepped inside, arms crossed. “About what?”
Matilda’s mind spun, searching for a safe answer. “School.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t let distractions take your focus. You're too close to graduating to mess things up now.”
“I won’t,” she said quickly.
He looked at her like he could still hear something unspoken in her voice. “You’ve always been a good girl, Matilda. Don't make me question that.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Satisfied—or pretending to be—he turned and shut the door behind him. The click of the latch sounded louder than it should have.
She exhaled.
He hadn’t mentioned the party from two years ago in a long time. But she remembered every detail: the stale air of the basement, the single dangling lightbulb, the scratchy blanket she sat on, the silence that pressed in on her like punishment itself.
She had only been down there for one night. But it had been enough.
That night, something in her had split. A quiet agreement had formed between her and fear: Stay small. Stay silent. Stay safe.
And she had.
Until today.
---
The next morning, Matilda arrived at school earlier than usual. She liked the quiet before the rush, before the eyes and whispers. Before her own thoughts could get too loud.
But fate didn’t seem interested in giving her space.
“Hey.”
She froze. That voice—low, calm, disarmingly normal—came from behind her.
She turned. Jason Rivera stood there, hands in his hoodie pocket, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
“You dropped this yesterday.” He held out a black pen—her pen. The one with the cracked cap she used for every test because it felt lucky.
“Oh,” she said, reaching for it. “Thanks.”
He didn’t let go right away. Not in a weird way. Just long enough for her to notice.
“You’re Matilda, right?”
She nodded.
“I’m Jason.”
“I know.”
He smiled a little at that. “Right. I guess people talk.”
“They do.”
A silence stretched between them. Not awkward. Not yet. Just... charged.
“You’re not like the others,” he said.
“Others?”
“The ones who stare like they know something.”
Her throat tightened. “Maybe I just don’t know enough.”
Jason tilted his head, considering her. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
Before she could respond, Zara’s voice pierced the moment from across the hallway.
“Matilda! Are you seriously talking to him?”
Jason gave her a quick, unreadable smile and turned away.
“I’ll see you around,” he said.
And just like that, he was gone.
Matilda stared after him, the pen still warm in her hand, her heart pounding as if something inside her had just stepped out of line
---
📖 Chapter Two (continued)
Zara reached her with a dramatic huff, eyes locked on Jason’s retreating back like he was a bad idea wearing sneakers.
“Matilda,” she said, voice low but sharp. “What exactly was that?”
Matilda glanced down at her pen. “He just gave this back. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Zara crossed her arms. “You looked like you were about to invite him to prom.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Matilda.” Her voice softened just a little. “I’m saying this because I love you, okay? Stay away from him.”
Matilda hesitated, her fingers curling around the pen.
“You don’t even know him,” she said quietly.
Zara groaned. “That’s the point. No one does. He came from nowhere, and people say he left his last school for some serious stuff.”
“People say a lot of things.”
Zara leaned in. “And when they said you lied about that party two years ago? When they said your dad nearly lost it—that was true, wasn’t it?”
Matilda’s jaw clenched.
Zara didn’t wait for an answer.
“You’re not like the rest of us. Your dad—he doesn’t do warnings. He does lockdown. Do you really want to risk everything over a guy who barely said ten words to you?”
Matilda opened her mouth, then closed it.
Because Zara was right.
And that terrified her.
---
At lunch, Matilda sat with her tray untouched, pushing mashed potatoes in slow circles while her friends talked around her. But her mind was miles away.
She imagined the look on her father’s face if he saw her talking to Jason again. That slow disappointment first. Then the anger—controlled, focused, devastating.
She imagined her mother standing just behind him, wringing her hands, silently agreeing.
Stay away. Stay small. Stay safe.
Matilda closed her eyes.
Then she made a quiet decision:
She would stay away from Jason Rivera.
Whatever he carried, whatever made her heart race when he looked at her—
It wasn’t worth the war it would start at home.
- Writer
