7 Years Later

Part 3 - High School

I had Creative Writing every other day- and I had to bring in my rough draft of my paper that I wrote about the song "Yellow".

I was more nervous to see Matteo.

He probably f*****g hates me and thinks I am a b***h.

I had listened to his song- "Scar Tissue" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers- and couldn't help but wonder if the song was more than just nostalgia for him.

When I walked into class, I immediately spotted out Matteo. I was looking for him- and I didn't even know he existed until 2 days ago.

Not even 5 minutes into class, we were instructed to meet with our partners.

Matteo moved Ashley's desk over to me again. Today he wore an army green t-shirt.

I looked at him, and noticed that the green t-shirt made his eyes really stand out.

He's honestly not bad looking. At all.

He had his notebook open to a page that had handwriting on it. His rough draft.

"Hey." he said to me.

"Hi, Matteo." I said. And then I just started speaking- without even thinking, "I'm sorry I never knew we were in class together. I've felt terrible about it since our last class. I don't want you to think I'm a bad person or anything. I-"

Matteo cut me off with a chuckle, "Why would I think you're a bad person?"

"I don't know." I said, looking down.

"It didn't shock me. I wouldn't really expect someone like you to notice someone like me, honestly." Matteo said.

"Someone like me?" I asked.

"Don't read too far into it." Matteo said, "Did you write your rough draft?"

I am going to keep reading into it.

"I did." I said, "Please don't make fun of me."

Matteo gave me a confused look, "Why would I make fun of you?"

"You'll probably think the real reason why I like the song 'Yellow' is stupid." I said.

"I guarantee you I won't." Matteo said, "My paper is...pretty personal, honestly."

"Oh." I said, "Well...I look forward to reading it."

Matteo looked at me and then handed me his notebook, "Here."

I handed him the rough draft I had typed and printed up.

I looked down at Matteo's paper.

"You have nice hand-writing for a guy." I said to him.

"Thanks, I guess." he said, but I saw the side of his mouth tug into a slight smile.

I then looked down at his paper.

It said, "Right when I hear the first guitar strum of the song 'Scar Tissue' by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, it immediately brings me back to being a kid, and sitting in the kitchen at the counter while he would make my sister and I chocolate chip banana pancakes. He would blast the song 'Scar Tissue' while he looked like he didn't have a care in the world as he wore an apron around himself, flipping the pancakes with expertise. I remember being amazed at how fast and perfect he could flip those pancakes."

Wow. That's really sweet.

I felt my heart drop as I read the next lines.

"Now, whenever I hear that song- it makes me think of him. And how much I miss him. I can immediately picture him in the kitchen making those pancakes. I wish I had realized back then to savor those moments- as around 10 years later- I would lose him."

I glanced over at Matteo. He was looking down at my paper, his eyes scanning the words, and didn't see me looking at him.

"My dad died three years ago, when I was 15. When I was 14 he was diagnosed with cancer. And it took him a little over a year later. Ever since then, I've had this anger toward the world that I can't seem to shake. However, right when I hear the song 'Scar Tissue', it brings me back to those mornings in the kitchen. When losing my dad wasn't even a thought in my mind."

As I read on, I could feel a lump in my throat, and I had to blink back tears.

"This is really good." I heard Matteo say.

I looked up at him, as I had been blinking back tears.

You are not crying in front of him.

He looked at me, and I saw his eyes soften.

He must know I'm about to cry from his paper.

I swallowed and said, "You like my paper? You don't think it's stupid?"

"Why would I think something that is meaningful to you is stupid?" Matteo said to me, "You want to be someone's 'yellow' one day. I think it's quite nice, actually."

"I feel like it makes me seem like a hopeless romantic." I said.

"I think it's actually hopeful, not hopeless." Matteo said to me, "I believe most of us have that hope, even if we don't want to admit it."

"Well...thank you for not making me feel like an idiot." I said to Matteo.

"I wouldn't do that to you." he said back, and we made eye contact for a moment, not saying anything.

"Your paper...I am so sorry, Matteo." I said, feeling the lump form in my throat again.

"Thank you." he said back, I could tell he meant it.

Me, on the other hand, kept having to blink back tears.

"Are you about to cry?" Matteo asked me.

"What? No." I said, and me- being the mess that I am- literally started to cry. Right after he said that.

I wasn't hysterical or sobbing. But a few tears did escape my eyes.

"Fuck." I said, trying to laugh it off, "Sorry. Your paper made me emotional. You probably think I am pathetic. And my mascara is probably running down my face."

Matteo was looking at me, not taking his eyes off me, "Not pathetic at all."

I felt my heart beat pick up for a moment- and I honestly forgot there was anyone else in the classroom besides Matteo and I.

That was, until Mrs. Delvecchia spoke, "This seems to be going well. I'm glad that a lot of you seem to be in deep discussion. You're going to write your final drafts and have your partner look over them on Monday."

"Do you have any tips for me to make my paper better?" I asked Matteo.

Matteo looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wouldn't say better is the correct word. But I would include more on what exactly it means to be someone's 'yellow'."

"I can do that." I said, "Thanks."

"Can I improve in any way?" Matteo asked.

No.

"Honestly, no. But...can I message you on i********: or something if I think of anything?"

Careful now.

Matteo looked a bit surprised, "Oh. Um, I don't have any social media. But I can give you my number."

"Oh! Sure." I said, reaching into my bag. I pulled out my iPhone 6S. I then created a new contact that said, "Matteo".

I handed Matteo my phone, and he put his number in and placed it back on my desk.

"Thanks." I said.

After class, as Ashley and I were walking to lunch, she asked me, "Did Matteo put his number in your phone? I saw him hand your phone back to you."

"Yeah." I said, casually, "For writing help. Just in case."

"Got it." Ashley said. And I wasn't sure if she 100% believed me.

I didn't even 100% believe me.