by Hanna Ruthie
Me: You know what else it’s called?
Matthew: I have a feeling you’re about to enlighten me
Me: Blackmail
Matthew: yeah yeah. Good one Josephine.
Me: you don’t believe me?
Matthew: you would never. You’re too nice.
Matthew: And I mean that in the meanest way possible
Me: right right, scowl and all.
Matthew: exactly.
It takes me a moment to realize I’m smiling down at my phone, one of my fingers touching my lip, entertained.
Me: I’ll see you next week yeah?
Matthew: yeah
Me: And Matthew?
Matthew: yeah?
Me: Maybe don’t bring the scowl?
Matthew: But how would you recognize me?
Holy crap! Matthew Steele just made a joke about himself! And I actually laughed!
Matthew: see you later Josephine.
See you later Josephine. See you later Josephine. Those stupid words float through my head all day. This feels good. This feels… hopeful! I may be thawing the rock hard glacier that is Matthew Steele, he might, maybe, possibly, be warming to the idea of me.
Chapter 8
Matthew Steele.
My phone buzzes with a text from Josie.
Josie: I’m not gonna make it today. I’m so sorry.
Me: To the library?
Josie: Yeah. Sorry to leave you hanging. Something came up
I consider leaving it there, but something just nags at me. I type out my next text, erasing it and re-typing it time and time again. I’m not the guy that cares. I’m not. But in this particular situation… maybe I do. Only because It’s Josie. Always five minutes early Josie. Josie who I thought doesn’t have a care in the world. Josie who’s looking or a second job. Josie who needs money. Fuck it.
Me: everything okay?
It takes Josie a while to respond and I wait eagerly, reading her texts from the side of my bed. My backpack is at my feet, ready to be taken to the library, opened for studying. Studying which apparently isn’t happening. It frustrates me a little… okay a lot. Only because I’m being bailed on and I don’t know why. I don’t like being left in the dark like this. My phone buzzes again with Josie’s response.
Josie: Not really
I wait at my bed, not sure of what to do, becoming concerned. What does ‘not really’ mean? Not really? Does she have to be so damn vague? She really can’t give me any other information? But then I think, this is Josie. The positive, bright, eager girl who teaches me about bio and loves science. If she’s saying that everything is not really okay, then it must really be bad. Right? Does her not really hold more weight than a normal not really? I curse to myself, running a hand through my hair. I fucking hate this shit. Not knowing, asking questions. This is caring. This isn’t fucking me. But… what if she isn’t safe? What if she’s being hurt? I type out another message and stare down at it. I hit send before I have a chance to freak out about what I’m sending.
Me: Are you at least safe? Do you need…
Shit! I don’t know! I type out another message quickly and send it.
Me: help?
I cringe at myself. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing! Thankfully, Josie answers me quickly without taking her sweet time.
Josie: I’m safe Matthew. Thank you for checking. I’m sorry for bailing on our session
Frustrated, I put my phone down. I really don’t know what to do. I need to study. I need her help. But that’s not what’s on my mind right now. What’s on my mind is my fucking tutor not being okay. I’m frustrated because I don’t know what to do. I’m not a nice guy. I’m not the one to check up on the girl. I’m the asshole. I’m the guy who she hates. The problem is… I don’t hate Josie. Not even close. And now I’m wondering if I ever really did.
* * *
A week later, I’m sitting in the library at our table… alone. Josie’s late. It’s some bullshit considering all the grief she gave me for being late that one time. Now here I am, sitting and waiting after she already bailed on one of our sessions. Annoyed, I decide to shoot her a text.
Me: What’s the deal? Are you coming or not?
She answers back faster than I expect.
Josie: I don’t know
I read her text over and over again. It irks the hell out of me. I adjust in my chair, becoming angry.
Me: What don’t you know?
Josie: I don’t know if I can make it
Me: If you’re gonna be late I can wait.
Josie: No it’s not that
Josie: I’ll just come
I set down my phone and lean back in my chair, tapping my pencil on the desk. I’m spacing out when Josie flops down in the chair.
“Hey,” I say.
I take her in. She looks like shit. She has no makeup on, which she rarely does and usually I find refreshing. But today, she looks tired. There are bags under her eyes. The usual hazel in her pupils is drowned out with the red tint of exhausted eyes. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, but pieces have gone free, falling around her face haphazardly.
“Rough couple of days?” I ask.
Josie sighs, pulling books out of her bag.
“Matthew, please. I don’t have the energy today.”
“Clearly,” I chuckle. “Are you sick or something?”
It’s a shitty thing to say, but hardly the worst that she’s ever heard out of my mouth.
“Matthew,” she says, my name a warning.
“What?” I ask. “You look like you’ve got one foot in the grave and the other one slipping on a banana peel.”
“Matthew!” She shouts.
No one’s studying in the library today, but the mousy girl working behind the counter looks up at us. I give her my best smile, one that makes her blush and look down. The girl with the rats nest hair in front of me stares down at her books.
“Please,” she says softly. “You have no idea what I’ve been through this last week.”
“What happened?” I ask, doing my best to sound uninterested. “You get a B on a test or something?”
Josie shuts her eyes. “Do you have to be a jerk all the time? Can’t you ever just be normal?”
“What’s your deal?” I ask. “Grocery store was fresh out of positive vibes huh?”
“You know what?” She asks softly. She places both hands flat on the table. “I can’t do this today.”
Shit. I’ve always gotta take it one step too far. I should have known better than to kick her while she was down.
“Josie wait,” I say.
For some reason, she listens to me.
“I’m an asshole,” I say. This is true. This I have no problem admitting. I’m an ass. I know this. Josie knows this. Everyone knows this. It’s not an apology when I say it. It’s just an admittance of the truth.
“Yes, you are,” she says softly.
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated.
“Look, I’m just a little pissed is all. Because you already bailed on me once and I really need to pass this fucking class.”
She brushes some of the stray hairs behind her ear, swallowing.
“I know,” she sighs. “I know and I’m really really sorry. I know this is important but I couldn’t get away from the hospital and there was so much going on I just couldn’t do it. And then today I was just so exhausted and I haven’t slept since-”
I interrupt her babbling. “Hospital? Why were you at the hospital?”
Josie looks at me and sinks lower in her chair. “Did I say hospital? Shoot, I didn’t mean to. Like I said, I haven’t slept for a couple days and-”
“Josie,” I interrupt again, wanting an answer. “Why were you at the hospital?”
“Oh, well my…” she looks down at the table and swallows nervously. “It’s my sister. She’s sick.”
Fuck. This whole time I’ve been so pissed at her and for what? She’s just trying to take care of her family. And this expla
ins the hunt for her second job. She must be paying her sister’s medical bills.
“Shit. That sucks.”
She nods again. “Yeah it… it does. But, she’s strong. She’s older than me.”
“What’s her name?” I wonder. Shit! Did that just come out of my mouth? Who cares what her name is?!
“Cammy.”
I nod my head once, watching Josie fiddle with her fingers as she looks down at the table.
“Yeah so, some stuff came up and… I had to be with her. I’m sorry I had to cancel.”
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask. Shit! Shit! Why do I care so damn much?!
Josie doesn’t seem to mind my questions. She seems eager at the chance to share with me. But what she can’t hear is the internal dialogue that consists of streams of cursing whenever another fucking question slips out of my mouth. I don’t know why I can’t help it.
“She has lung cancer.”
“Oh man, that’s too bad.”
It’s true, and honestly, I don’t mind her hearing it.
“Yeah, it’s not the best, and it’s been getting worse lately, but I try to stay positive.”
Of course she does. “Of course you do.”
“Bad things happen,” she says, shrugging. “I figure it’s gonna suck either way. Might as well make the best of it. There’s good and bad in everything.”
I lean forward in my chair, smirk on my face. “Even me?”
Her tired eyes meet mine and she sighs, sitting back in her chair. “Yes. Even you Matthew Steele.”
I lean back and watch her, squinting, trying to figure out if she really means it.
“Everyone has a story,” she adds on. “I’m sure you do too. And I hope one day you find someone to share it with.”
With those words, it’s dawning on me. Josie Virginia is the kind of girl people call special. It’s just too bad that I’m the furthest thing from it.
Chapter 9
Josie Virginia.
Me: You’re going to be mad
Matthew: Oh great. What is it.
Me: I’m standing in front of the library and it’s closed.
Matthew: You’re joking
I lift my phone to the sign on the library door and snap a photo. I send it to Matthew, waiting for his response. At this point with Matthew, I’m not sure what to expect. I can get anything from an angry slew of comments to simple radio silence. I stare at the sign on the door as I wait.
Closed for renovations.
“Shoot,” I mutter to myself. With midterms done, Matthew has two tests left before finals. His first test is in two days. Matthew needs this study session desperately. I chew on the inside of my cheek for a while, thinking. My phone buzzes in my hands, interrupting my thoughts.
Matthew: Stay put. I’m on my way. I know a place we can study.
A few minutes later, Matthew pulls up in his red truck right in front of the library. He reaches across the passenger seat to open the door. I get in, putting my backpack at my feet.
“Where are we headed?” I ask, buckling up in Matthew’s truck.
He looks over his shoulder, backing out of the library parking.
“It’s my favorite diner. I have an old friend who works there. It shouldn’t be too busy right now,” he replies.
“Oh nice,” I reply. “What’s it called?”
“The Burger Joint.”
I squint a little, trying to put my finger on where I recognize the name.
“You know what? I think I live close to that place. I think I’ve walked past it before. I’ve never gone in.”
Matthew shakes his head. “You’re missing out.”
It’s not far from campus either, only a couple minutes with all green lights. Matthew pulls into a parking space and turns the ignition off. We head inside and go straight for a booth in the back. I look around at the place as we get settled in. It’s cute. An old time diner with red booths and red plush seats at the old fashioned counter. I notice the sign by the kitchen that says ‘Help Needed’. It’s the first I’ve seen for a couple weeks now. Our waiter comes over, a good looking kid who seems a few years younger than Matthew. I see that the name tag pinned to his uniform reads ‘Johnny’. As soon as he comes over he gives Matthew a fist bump.
“Hey Matty boy! How’s it goin’?” He asks.
“It’s goin’ Johnny,” Matthew replies.
I smile at Johnny as he turns to look at me. He tips his head to me, pretending to tip a hat like an old-fashioned gentleman.
“Who’s the lovely lady Matty?”
I blush a little at the compliment.
“She can speak for herself,” Matthew grumbles.
I shoot him a look of disappointment and he sighs.
“Johnny meet Josie. Josie, Johnny,” he introduces.
Johnny’s tall, fit, dark-skinned, his hair cut close to his head. His body type is similar to Matthew’s, tall and lean but strong.
“Hi,” I say, giving him a little wave.
“Hi yourself. What are you two thinking about getting tonight? Matty you want your regular?”
“Sure.”
“And for you?” He asks me.
I look over the menu quickly. “Grilled cheese,” I decide.
Johnny writes down our orders and takes our menus, leaving to go help another group that just came in.
“That’s your old friend?” I ask.
Matthew nods.
“He called you Matty,” I notice, giggling at the nickname.
“Yeah,” he sighs. “I used to watch him when he was a kid. I was the oldest one in the neighborhood so I got stuck with all the little kids when the parents were at work.”
“I don’t believe it,” I smile. “Not only do you let him call you Matty, but you were the neighborhood babysitter.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” he says, waving me off.
He pulls out his notes and I follow his lead, taking out everything I need.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” I say, referring to the diner. “I’ve lived here for almost four years and my apartment is only a couple blocks away. I’ll have to go here more often. Thanks for showing it to me.”
“Sure,” Matthew nods. “It’s a good place.”
He opens up his notebook and slides it towards me. He looks up at me, his eyes showing just how desperate he is.
“Test is in two days. Teach me everything.”
Matthew and I spend two hours at the diner, studying and reviewing everything we can. We eat while we study, we drink while we study, we don’t take breaks or get side tracked, we crack down hard on the subject at hand. When we hit the two hour mark, I’m feeling pretty good about where Matthew’s at. We’re packing up our things to go when Johnny brings us the bill.
“How much was the grilled cheese?” I ask Matthew.
He takes the bill, pulling his wallet out. “I’ve got it,” he says.
“Oh, are you sure? I can pay you back.”
He shakes his head, sliding cash into the little folder. “Don’t worry about it. You went overtime again so I owe you.”
“Oh okay! Thanks Matthew, I appreciate it.”
He nods, pulling out a few more dollars to leave as tip on the table. Then we head out of the diner, waving goodbye to Johnny as we go. Matthew swings his keys around his finger.
“You want a ride home?” He asks.
“Would you really? That would be awesome,” I reply.
I feel bubbly… giggly. Matthew Steele paid for my dinner and now he’s offering to take me home. I hop in his truck, buckling back up.
“Is it just me or are you getting nicer?” I ask Matthew, messing with him.
He grumbles something under his breath and backs out. I give him directions the two blocks back to my apartment where he pulls up.
“This is me,” I say, unbuckling my seat belt.
I put my hand on the door handle but look back at Matthew before I push it open.
“Good luck on the test.
Make sure you tell me how it goes,” I say.
“I will,” he replies. “Thanks for helping.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear awkwardly. “No problem. Thanks for dinner.”
He nods, looking straight ahead at the steering wheel.
“Well… goodnight.” I open the door handle and hop out.
“Night,” he replies, watching me.
I walk to the door and then turn around to wave goodbye. I make out a simple nod of his head and then he drives off into the dark. I feel a cold breeze against my face and smile. Even with Matthew, it seems the winds are changing.
* * *
“I miss wildflowers,” Cammy whispers.
I squeeze her hand. “You what?”
“Wildflowers,” she repeats. “Remember the house? There were those woods in the back. You and I used to play back there. There were those blue flowers. I loved those blue flowers so much.”
“I remember,” I smile, holding her hand in mine tighter.
“How much longer?” She asks.
I look at the cold cap on her head and then back down at the watch on my wrist.
“Twenty minutes,” I reply.
I missed tutoring with Matthew three weeks ago because an emergency came up with Cammy. The cancer spread. So she’s back with the cold caps, wanting her hair no matter the pain. She has chemo in a couple hours. Everything here has been getting worse. I’ll never tell Cammy this, but I’m losing hope. She doesn’t have much time left. I wish she would just quit all of these painful procedures. I’d be happier if she lived out the rest of her life without any pain at all. But she refuses. She wants to keep those blonde locks on her head. She says they remind her of Mom. They remind me of Mom too. Cammy has always looked like Mom. She has her blonde hair and blue eyes and pale skin. I’ve always looked more like Dad.
“Do you remember how Dad used to hate the wildflowers?” She asks.
I nod my head. “They were all over the woods. He thought they were weeds.”
She nods lightly, squeezing my hand. “But not us.”
“No,” I reply softly.
Cammy looks over at me, her eyes tired, her body frail. “What’s that line you always say? The one that I love.”