Flat-Out Matt

  “Celeste isn’t wired like Mom. She is exhaustively cheerful all the time. I wouldn’t want to see that change.”

  “No,” Finn said firmly. “We’re not going to let them take that from her. We won’t.”

  “Maybe you could talk to Mom? She’ll listen to you. She responds to you the most.”

  “Knock it off with that talk. That’s not true.”

  “It’s okay, Finn. Really. It’s how it’s always been. “

  “You don’t get it, Matt, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “The reason that she’s tougher on you is because she sees you as competition. You’re smarter than she is, and she can’t stand that.” Finn plopped down next to Matt again. “She’s jealous. Plain and simple.”

  “Huh. You think?”

  “She’s always going to be harder on you to try to bring you down a notch or two. I love Mom, but… ignore her garbage. I know she is giving you a hard time about MIT, telling you that you won’t get enough of a well-rounded education. But that’s not true. She could never get in there, and she knows that you will. You’re going to do fantastic things.” He sat down again next to Matt and beamed. “It’s gonna be fun to watch.”

  “Thanks.” Matt dropped his head and fussed with his shoelace. “Thanks, Finn.”

  “What about Celeste? What do you think she’ll do with her life?”

  “Maybe she’ll stick with the piano? Or something else creative. Can’t you picture her as an artist of some sort? We’ll go to her gallery showings and listen to her explain the symbolism found in some bizarre sculpture that she’s spent months forming out of pinecones and zippers.”

  “Totally,” Finn agreed. “It’ll be weird and wonderful.”

  “Yes, it will.”

  “Just like her. Yeah, she’s a little too smart for her own good and not exactly like all of the other kids at her school, but she’s got potential to do something great, too. Something really unique and outstanding. Don’t you think?”

  Matt nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Can you imagine her as a teenager?” Finn groaned. “Ugh, it’s only a few years away. That mess of blonde hair is going to have the boys knocking down the front door.”

  “No kidding. We’ll have to set up some sort of security system. I’ll take care of the background checks, and you can rig the booby traps. I’m thinking something to do with nets and pulleys?”

  Finn high-fived Matt. “Deal.”

  “So, you’ll talk to Mom?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry about anything. I’m going to fix this.”

  “You and your Don’t Worry, I’m a Jedi shirt?” Matt smiled.

  “With a little help from you and your Friends Don’t Let Friends Drink and Derive shirt.”

  “You don’t need me, Finn.”

  “I do need you, Matt. You’re my best friend, and we’re in this together.”

  Matt’s shoelace continued to be in desperate need of attention. “I love you, Finn.”

  Finn laughed and threw his arm around Matt’s neck, pulling him in close. “Aw, Matty, you big sap. I love you, too, bro.” He held him tight for a few moments. “Everything is going to be just fine. I promise.”

  Matt nodded. “Should we get going?”

  Finn squeezed his arm around Matt one more time. “Yup. Let’s do it.”

  They both put on their backpacks, and Matt turned to take in the spectacular view one more time before he started focusing on getting up the steeper slabs of rock ahead of them. This wasn’t a challenging climb for the two of them now, but the winter months would bring excellent opportunity for ice climbing here.

  “Hey, Finn?”

  Finn raised the hood of his fleece over his head. “Yeah?”

  “We should come back here when we’ve got ice.”

  “Dude, I’m so all over that. We’ll get new equipment for Christmas! New ropes, new ice axe…. We need a really good weather tracker, too. Did you know Mount Washington has some of the craziest weather anywhere? Unpredictable. Changes in a flash.”

  “That’s the fun, right?” Matt followed Finn over the craggy rock.

  “Well, yeah. But we’re going to be careful. Right now, this is only a Class 3 climb. Throw in snow, ice, and God knows what kind of weather? Total game changer. There are a few different gully options to ascend. We’ll have to be smart about this.”

  “That’s unfortunate, since neither of us is too bright.”

  “I know. Especially you. Tragic.” Finn looked back and winked at Matt. “Tragic.”

  They hiked for a bit and then Finn stopped, steadied his footing, and pointed off to the right. “There. That’s our ravine. What do you say, Matty? February? Give ourselves a real challenge.”

  “They do say February is the harshest month.”

  “And by harshest they mean best.”

  “Hell, yeah,” Matt said.

  “So you’re in?”

  “I’m in,” Matt agreed. He took in the sight of his brother, totally at ease on this terrain, the sun reflecting off the rock onto Finn’s eager face. He would go anywhere with Finn. Drop-off cliffs, gnarled jungles, deep oceans…. Matt would be safe and loved. Matt would be treasured. “All in.”

  Finn let out a joyous whoop and raised both hands triumphantly in the air. “See ya in February! We’re coming for you! Me and my brother, you hear me? Me and my brother.”

  He turned and winked at Matt.

  #FlatFinnSaves

  A Flat-Out Love Prequel Chapter

  Matt Watkins Machine time a in polarity the reverse to how know anyone does: question quick?

  “Please, Celeste. Please.” Matt couldn’t keep the pleading tone from his voice. It had become impossible to muster anything resembling a happy—or even neutral—tone when talking to his sister. Every word he spoke to her was loaded with begging, cajoling, or frustration. Sometimes anger.

  Matt leaned against the wall that led into the living room. The girl before him was too despondent for him to look at, so he focused on the plate in his hand. Staring at the stinky meatball sub was preferable to looking at his sister. Celeste was seated on the end of the couch, her legs pulled in tightly to her chest, and her arms wrapped around them with her hands clenched together. She hadn’t cried in weeks. In fact, she hadn’t done much of anything in weeks. At least school was out now, so the morning grind of trying to get her functional enough to get to class was on hiatus. But now the days seemed endless. There was nothing to fill them with. Everything had a downside. Everything was a downside. Maybe he missed the crying, the noise, the reactions, because Celeste’s near-silence was worse. Her expressionless, stoic face destroyed him again and again. At least there was still something left to be destroyed. Ah, an upside! Matt thought bitterly.

  He forced himself to rally. Again. He crossed the room and sat down next to her. “You need to eat. I got you a sub from that unsanitary hole-in-the-wall place that you like.” Matt set the plate on the coffee table.

  How much longer could he do this? It had been five months since Finn died. Five months and twelve days. Erin and Roger were barely holding it together as it was, so they were of minimal help. Matt understood how it was nearly impossible to see past your own grief to deal with somebody else’s, but he was doing it, for God’s sake. Couldn’t they help him? Couldn’t somebody help him? Evidently not. Yes, Celeste allowed him to take her to and from school, she did her homework, she ate (when he made her), and she could sometimes engage in watered-down conversation. But there was no healing. He was going to have to think of something.

  Matt brushed her hair from her face and set a pile of curls behind her shoulder. “I should take you to get another haircut soon, huh?” Matt paused, waiting for a response that wasn’t going to come. “Baby girl, please.”

  Celeste continued looking out the window. “Do not call me that, Matthew.”

  Matt sighed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “That is what he called me, and I
do not want to hear those two words adjoined like that. Especially from you.”

  He had to give her credit. She really knew how to drive the knife in further.

  The smell of the sub was churning his stomach. Granted, everything seemed to churn his stomach, but today it was worse. “Come on. Eat.” He managed to strengthen his voice, wanting to sound as directive as he could. “It’s not a choice. We eat, we sleep, we keep going.”

  She turned from her spot and looked at the coffee table. She stayed still for a long moment. A standoff between Celeste and the sandwich, Matt thought. Who would win this battle of wills? Who would claim victory? The tension was great…

  “Just. Eat. Stop thinking and eat.” Matt put the plate in her lap. Maybe he could distract her and just shove food into her mouth without her noticing? That would be easier than this ritual of negotiation they always had to go through. “Finn would never want you like this.” It was a cheap shot, he knew, but, like Celeste, he wasn’t above that these days.

  Celeste glared at him, but she did pick up the sandwich.

  Ha! Small victories.

  They sat uncomfortably as Matt oversaw her eating. He knew if he left the room that she would stop and probably spit out whatever was in her mouth.

  “So, look, you have a birthday coming up in a few weeks. What should we do to celebrate?”

  “There will not be a celebration, Matthew.”

  “We have to do something. I want to do something. How about dinner out? Or we could see if any of the theater groups have productions running now. I’d love to see a show with you. And is there a particular gift you’d like? I have a few things for you, and Mom and Dad, too, of course.” That wasn’t exactly a lie since he had bought her some gifts on their behalf.

  “I do not see a compelling reason to acknowledge the day as anything but another insignificant, if not torturous, twenty-four period. Do you?” she asked accusingly. “Do you, Matthew?” She shoved the plate with the now half-eaten sandwich across the table and lay on the couch.

  Matt rubbed his eyes. He simply didn’t have the energy to do this with her right now. The cycle was all too familiar to him; he’d spend twenty minutes trying to be animated and kind and (if he was really trying harder than usual) funny, and she’d either be totally silent or heartbreakingly abusive. Then he would try to reason with her, tap into any part of her that still lived, then get angry and say something that he’d regret. But today, he wasn’t strong enough. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Here.” He tossed a credit card on the table as he stood. “Go online and buy yourself whatever you want. You should have something nice, especially this year. Do it for me, for yourself, for Finn…. I don’t care who. Just do it.”

  Matt walked out of the room.

  **********

  The screen glowed brightly in the dark of Matt’s room, and he just now noticed that evening had set in. He unconsciously glanced at the calendar on his laptop. Five months, twenty-six days. Stop counting, stop counting. He lifted the next bill from the pile and arranged an online payment. While everything else in the house had fallen to shit, at least there was money in his parents’ account. When the electricity had been turned off because Roger and Erin forgot the two shut-off notices that had come in the mail, Matt had offered to deal with the bills. At least the loss of power had presented him and his parents with a conversation topic. A sterile and unhappy one, but it provided an excuse for interaction. Aside from specific logistical issues that had to be dealt with, no one talked to each other, and no one made much eye contact. Certainly no one smiled.

  He scrolled through the checking account, confirming that everything was normal and then did the same for the credit cards. He let out a small smile for only the second time in ages. It was hard not to feel a brief moment of levity when he’d first seen the charge last week. A little over a hundred dollars had been charged to an online party shop. Celeste had gone ahead and bought herself something, presumably the makings of a birthday party. She must have come around to the idea of the family celebrating her birthday in some form. It was probably just a mess of decorations, and all likely done from some sense of obligation to Finn’s memory, but Matt didn’t care. For the first time since that ungodly awful day last February, Celeste had done something positive.

  When the last bill was scheduled for payment, Matt collected the papers, ran them through a shredder, and sat back. He knew it was inexcusable that he was in charge of this, but it was much less complicated to simply tackle what had to be done than to try and get his own parents to handle this right now. It wouldn’t be forever. Mom was doing… well, she was making progress. Dad had to focus on his wife, so Matt would hold down the rest of the fort until life got back to normal. Or whatever normal was going to be.

  He lifted an envelope from his desk and sighed heavily. The letter was from MIT. This could have been, should have been, the one saving grace in what was otherwise a cyclone of misery. At least the admissions office was exceedingly understanding about his situation, and Matt had been able to defer for a year. Had he told his parents about this yet? He wasn’t sure. But now what did he have to look forward to? A year at home in this entirely depressing environment? This house where no one was allowed in? There was always the possibility of auditing a few classes, but he certainly couldn’t take on a full course load until things… settled.

  Well, it wasn’t really about him. It was about Celeste. And while ordering herself birthday party paraphernalia was a nice act, it didn’t exactly signal a monumental leap out of depression. Celeste was just as dreadfully shut down as ever, and no amount of effort on Matt’s part had made a difference. He was missing something. He had to be. There was a way to unlock the old Celeste.

  Finn would know what that was, but Matt didn’t.

  His brother would be horribly disappointed in what Matt considered his near-total failure in managing Celeste. But he didn’t know what else to do, how to cheer her up, how to glue together what was left of her. God damn Finn. He had always been so well thought-out. A risk taker, yes, but always with a solid understanding of the danger. He prepared, he planned, he executed smartly. Finn had never spontaneously hopped into a raft and ridden haphazardly down an unknown river. Daring acts always came with a level head.

  So why had he jumped into the backseat of Erin’s car that day? How could he have done something so stupid? He should have been less rash. Finn could have gotten into the front seat, couldn’t he? And then pulled the emergency brake twenty feet from the house? He could have done something besides allowing Erin to careen around on icy roads. Of course, it was easy for Matt to run through hundreds of alternatives. That was the nature of things like this, wasn’t it? The gift that keeps on giving. Hours, days, years, of agonizing thinking ahead of him.

  Gee, the future just looked brighter and brighter all the time.

  The doorbell rang. Matt frowned. Who in the world could that be? As he started for the door, he heard the surprising sound of Celeste’s footsteps tear out of her room and down the stairs. And even more shocking, the sound of absolute jubilation as she yelled out, “He’s here! He’s here!” She couldn’t possibly have invited someone over, could she?

  He stopped at the top of the stairs and listened, but the conversation lasted mere seconds before Celeste slammed the door. Only one set of footsteps thundered through the entryway and into the kitchen.

  “Matty! Matty! You must witness the grand reveal! You must be here for… for the unveiling! Everything is going to turn around.”

  Unnerved by the now-uncharacteristic thrill in his sister’s voice, he made his way hesitantly into the kitchen. No guest was with her, but Celeste looked undeniably happy. Her eyes were bright and her face flushed with excitement. She stood in the center of the kitchen, hands on both cheeks, staring at the large rectangular shipping box on the floor. Considering how long and flat the package was, Matt had to wonder what sort of party supply this could be. More importantly, what had she orde
red that had lifted her spirits so dramatically? Well, whatever it was, Matt was damn happy it was here.

  As he opened his mouth to speak, Matt realized that he didn’t know how to address this version of Celeste. Speaking to a happy girl had become unfamiliar to him. He watched as she rummaged in a drawer and located a pair of scissors.

  “I am going to use significant caution as I remove the tape that is sealing these edges. Cuts, tears, and other tragedies would be a result of my rushing ahead. I cannot let my enthusiasm impair my performance.”

  “What…uh…” Matt cleared his throat. “What do you have there, Celeste?”

  She knelt down, poised with open scissors, as she assessed the package. “I am having difficulty determining how to approach this.” Celeste looked at Matt, real happiness in her eyes. “Would you please assist me? My hands appear to be trembling, and I would not want to ruin this moment with an injury inflicted upon myself or him.”

  Who the hell was him? Who cared right now? Celeste was interacting with him, reaching out to him in a way she hadn’t in months. He noted that it was now impossible to ignore that her speech patterns had become noticeably more odd over the past few months. He hadn’t had much of an opportunity to hear her voice given how little she’d had to say recently, but he shrugged it off. He was just pleased to see her so animated.

  “Yeah. I… I guess so. You’ve got me curious.” He walked to her side and squatted down next to her.

  Celeste handed him the scissors. “Now, you must promise to use the utmost care when severing the packaging. Okay? Okay, Matty?”

  He smiled at her. “Sure. Of course I will.”

  Matt confidently slid the scissors between the folds of the brown cardboard. It must be some sort of giant poster, although considering the cost, he was pretty sure she’d completely overpaid. No matter. It was nice to be doing anything with his sister that didn’t involve stony silence, cutting comments, or catatonia.