Flat-Out Matt

  “Will you come with us to the seafood market?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes, very much.”

  “Then I will.”

  “You should get your rest, too. Matthew, you look unusually exhausted tonight. I saw the recipe, and it requires a multitude of complicated steps, particularly the aioli which is composed of nineteen ingredients. Your assistance will be crucial to our success.”

  “Understood. Sleep well.”

  “Would you please set Flat Finn outside my door tonight? I would like him there for the benefit of his protection, but I will also be maintaining necessary space.”

  “Sure thing.” He turned off the Flat Finn spotlight and retrieved their cardboard brother. “Good night, Celeste.”

  Matt shut the door to his room and pulled off his shirt. He was most definitely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to fall sleep and end this day. However, he held his phone when he crawled into bed. Matt lay on his back and stared into the darkness for forty-five minutes. He heard the creak of the stairs as Julie came home, and then he put in his earphones to try and block out the noise in his head. Then his e-mail sounded.

  I think I’m falling for you.

  Matt looked at the screen for a long time. “Julie,” he whispered aloud. For a moment he debated about what to do. Then he sent his reply.

  Good. I think I’m falling for you too. Let’s not pull this chute.

  Under The Christmas Tree

  Flat-Out Love, Chapter 21, MPOV

  Matt Watkins This season always brings back warm memories of peeing in terror on Santa's lap. Warm, wet memories.

  Finn is God This is the season I always mix up “mistletoe” and “cameltoe.” Either way, I'm getting slapped.

  Julie Seagle The only thing that stands between you and your dreams is the fact that they are all illegal, immoral, and disgusting. Dream on, you little pervert!

  This was probably a stupid idea. He'd probably gotten everything wrong, and Julie would think this was incredibly dopey. Nonetheless, Matt continued lighting the candles on the Christmas tree. Even as tall as he was, Matt still needed to stand on a step stool to reach the top of the enormous tree that he'd picked out. It had been a nightmare trying to find candleholders that could be attached to the branches, but that's what Julie described in her Thanksgiving chat with Finn, and Matt wanted to give her the Christmas setup that would make her happy. As much as she seemed quite comfortable here, this was her first year away from home, and she must be missing the familiarity and routine of the holiday at her house in Ohio. California certainly couldn't be the same, although he was sure that she would have a good time with her father.

  Matt flinched as he burned his finger on a flame. Julie said this whole candles-on-the-tree thing could be dangerous, and she was right. He stepped back and surveyed the room. Okay, maybe she would like it. All of the house lights were off downstairs, but between the hundreds of twinkle lights on the ceiling and the candles on the tree and the ones nesting in green garlands, the room glowed warmly on this dark December night.

  His e-mail alert sounded, and Matt checked his laptop.

  Finn—

  Thinking about you. That's all.

  —Julie

  Matt bit his lip. He was lucky that she'd been holed up in her room for so long, probably about to go to sleep, and that he'd been able to get this all done. But now that he had, he was feeling embarrassed. What was the point? All he was doing was adding to Julie's feelings for Finn. This love triangle had reached new heights, and as much as Matt loved geometry, this was not the sort of triangle he wanted anything to do with.

  Yet it had become progressively easier to keep up his role as Finn. It was sick, he knew that, but…. He didn't know how to get out of it. She had to see what was going on, didn't she? On some level? She easily accepted that Finn couldn’t call. Way too easily. She wanted to believe in him. That had to be it. It’s why she never pushed harder for him to get to a phone. But half the time, Matt himself forgot that this online thing wasn't real, because they both got so totally caught up in the increasing number of e-mails and chats that it felt like nothing else mattered. The feelings they were having were real. The context of the charade allowed for that. Being able to feel what he did for Julie, even in private, was addictive.

  He didn't want to have to give that up. Not yet.

  He would do it, though, if he could. If there would be no repercussions for Celeste, and for Erin, he would give this up and let Julie hate him. As she probably should.

  Julie—

  I hope this message goes through. I keep falling off the network here. Thinking about you too and miss you. (Is that weird? How can I miss you? But I do.)

  I'm not going to make it to Boston this month. I'll explain later. I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say.

  Glad you're still awake because I have a surprise for you. I know it won't make up for my not being there, but it's all I could think to do:

  Go into the living room.

  —Finn

  This was it. She would come downstairs and laugh. He felt rotten about the e-mail because he knew that he'd just broken her heart a little by telling her that Finn wouldn't be home this month, but he was hoping that this Christmas thing he set up would help. He just had to buy some more time until… until… well, he wasn't exactly sure. Matt didn't want her upset. He knew that there wasn't any chance in hell that she could shift her feelings for who she thought was Finn over to him. The way Matt behaved with her online was so different from the way he could bring himself to do in person. And he’d promised Erin.

  Matt looked at the tree. It really was quite spectacular. Then he frowned. He’d missed two of the candles near the top, so he got on the step stool again to light them.

  “It's beautiful.”

  Julie's voice startled him and he almost lost his balance. “God, Julie. You scared me to death!”

  She laughed. “I'm sorry. I just got a message from Finn, and he told me to come down here.” She walked forward and lightly touched one of the branches. “It looks amazing.”

  Matt lit the last candle and stepped down. “Don't blame me if the house catches fire. This is all Finn's idea. He said it would make you happy?”

  “It does make me happy. You did all this for me? I mean, Finn asked you to do this?”

  Matt stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling of lights. “He sent me a list of instructions and included detailed threats of bodily harm if I didn't follow his demands to the letter. I think I got it all.” Matt moved to the coffee table. He glanced at the laptop's screen and shut the lid, hiding his e-mails to and from Julie. That had been careless of him. Maybe he wanted to get caught? “Yes, okay. Now we're supposed to lie under the tree. That does not sound traditional, but he said you would understand?” Matt looked doubtfully at her. He didn't understand the appeal of this concept, but it sounded important to her.

  “I do understand. Come on!” She grabbed Matt's hand and pulled him to the floor with her. “I do this every year. You’ll like it.”

  “Finn owes me,” he muttered as he followed Julie and lay on his back to slide under the lower branches. Right now he felt like an unwilling participant in someone else's scheme, and the touch of her hand made him edgy because it felt too good. “Ow! If I lose an eye for this, I expect a massively expensive Christmas present from you both to compensate me for my troubles. Like a bedazzled eye patch or something.”

  “You have to go slow, silly. Don’t fling yourself into the tree. Ease your way underneath. There. See?”

  Matt scooted himself under the tree next to Julie, and instantly he could feel the shift. In himself, in reality… maybe even between them. The rest of the room disappeared, and there was just the two of them alone beneath the dance of the candlelight. There was no outside world anymore, because under the tree they were shielded from everything. It was beautiful. Beautiful and terrifying.

  Matt took a deep breath and tried to
relax. “Actually, this is sort of…nice,” he said.

  She turned to him. “I've never done this with anyone before. It's always just me.”

  “Oh. I thought I was supposed to stay here and do whatever it is we're supposed to do under the tree. Do you want me to go?” Matt started to slide out.

  “No, stay!” She stopped him. “I like the company.”

  Matt smiled. He was glad that she wanted him here. “Okay. So what do we do?”

  “We think about profound things.”

  “Ah. Philosophical ponderings and questions? I'll go first. Prove to me that you are not a figment of my imagination.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Am I in a computer simulation? Does the door swing both ways? How can something come from nothing? How do you know a line is straight?”

  “Matt, stop it!” Julie laughed.

  He enjoyed hearing her laugh, and he wanted to do whatever he could to keep her smiling and happy. She was adorable, and silly, and above everything, she was his friend. “If animals wanted to be eaten, would it be okay? If time stopped then started again, would we even know about it? What happens when you get scared half to death twice? What is creationism? What is ethical?”

  “What is driving me crazy?” Julie asked, still giggling.

  “No, who is driving you crazy?” Matt corrected her, smiling. He needed that. “But fine. If you don't like my line of deep thinking, then you lead the way.”

  Julie paused. “Now it all seems silly and juvenile.”

  “Tell me anyway.” He could get her to talk to him the way that she talked online to Finn. At least, he would try.

  “It's just…well, every year I lie under the tree, and…I don't know. Assess my life. Get into a sort of dream state and see where my thoughts lead me.”

  Matt crossed his long legs and rested his hands on his stomach. “I understand what you mean.” He did, too, although he’d forgotten. When he hiked with Finn, there were times that Matt would find a quiet spot, usually with a grand view of the landscape and seemingly endless sky, and he would sit alone, taking some time to himself. It was on one of these hikes that he decided to do everything that he could to get into MIT. It would be hard, he might not be successful, but it was a dream worth chasing. So he would take in whatever stunning location Finn had taken them to, and he would sit and dream, close his eyes and let the pure air and the sound of silence flush through him, taking his thoughts and dreams further. Matt turned his head and looked at Julie. She was beautiful. “Why don't you close your eyes?”

  “You close your eyes too.”

  “Okay.”

  Julie looked at him and waited. “You go first.”

  “No, you go first.”

  “We'll do it at the same time. I don't want to lie here with you watching me. Ready? Three, two, one, go.” Julie shut her eyes. “Now we wait and see what comes to us.”

  Matt couldn't help himself. He continued to look at her. He wanted so much to reach over and put his hand on her cheek, to turn her face to his, to run his finger over her lips. He could move in closer, ever so slowly, and touch his mouth to hers. Kissing Julie would be perfection, he knew.

  If her feelings for him—for Finn—were real, the kiss would stop the world.

  Julie turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, but Matt couldn’t look away. “I told you not to watch me,” she whispered.

  “I couldn't help it,” he whispered back.

  He was quiet for a moment. The charge between them—it was the elevator chat all over again. When there was trust, and honesty, and salvation, and love. He felt it. “Julie?”

  “Yeah, Matt?”

  He took a breath before he spoke, before he would say what was going to change everything. “It's like we're free—”

  “Oh my God!” Julie said, cutting him off. “I totally forgot to ask you.”

  “Um… Ask me what?” Matt's heart was pounding.

  “My friend Dana wants you to call her.”

  How could he for one minute have thought that her heart was his? Stupid. It was utterly impossible. It was good thing that she’d stopped him from saying anything. Matt fought to fake his usual tone, fending off the tremble that wanted to take over. “That's not asking me anything.”

  “Stop correcting me. She wants to go out with you, you dork!”

  “Oh.” Matt groaned with more drama than necessary, but he needed a reason to turn his head away. Getting flustered was not something he was used to. Or liked. “I don't know about that.”

  “Matty, come on. You never go out!” Julie pleaded. “She's really cool. You'd like Dana.”

  “I'll think about it. How's that?” he offered. The last thing that he felt like talking about with Julie was taking out her friend. Good God, this was awful. Julie sounded so genuinely enthusiastic about the idea of him going out with someone else. She felt nothing for him, that was now clear. There was no Finn/Matt crossover. So that was that. And he would regroup quickly because he knew how to do that when necessary.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

  Matt turned back and wrinkled his face. Did she really think he was that inexperienced? Or that he was that undesirable? “Of course I've had a girlfriend. What kind of question is that?”

  Julie shrugged. “I don't know. You never mention anyone.”

  “I will admit that the romantic area of my life has been slow recently. I simply don't have time to go out with anyone right now. You know what my schedule is like with school and with Celeste.”

  “So you haven't dated since…you know? Celeste. The Flat Finn stuff.”

  “Not much. I had a pretty serious girlfriend, but then…” Matt struggled for how to say what he wanted to without saying too much. “Things changed around here.”

  “With Celeste?”

  Matt nodded.

  She didn't say anything for a minute. “When something happened?”

  Matt nodded again.

  “I'm sorry,” Julie said. “Because whatever it is, I can tell that you're dealing with it too. Maybe someday you'll want to tell me about it.”

  “Maybe someday,” Matt agreed. He wasn't one for talking deeply about anything to do with Finn's death, ever. But knowing that he could, even in this peripheral way, felt surprisingly good. “And my girlfriend at the time wasn't interested in staying together. Not everyone can tolerate my life. This house.”

  “I love Celeste, but she's hurting you, isn't she?”

  “Don't say that. I would sell my soul for my sister.”

  “I know you would.” Julie spoke slowly, and Matt knew that she was choosing her words with particular care. “But you must be angry with Finn for leaving. For making whatever happened to Celeste worse.”

  “I am angry with Finn.” This was true.

  He was angry with Finn for dying, for being dumb and reckless enough to jump into a car driven by someone clearly in the middle of a mental breakdown.

  He was angry with Finn for being heroic enough to sacrifice his life for his mother's. Whether or not that was Finn’s intention didn’t matter. That's how it felt.

  He was angry with Finn for causing everyone's lives to completely crumble.

  He was angry with Finn for leaving Matt with an unspeakable mess that he was incapable of cleaning up. And for leaving him alone with a crazy family that didn’t have the ability to love him.

  “He has a right to his life, Matt.”

  The irony of Julie's words hit him hard. “Believe me, I know he does.”

  “Do you two usually get along?”

  This was a difficult question to answer. “We used to. And then…we didn't.” Yes, he and Finn were best friends, but even best friendships carry their own set of troubles. Finn's all-around skill and success combined with his modesty made their relationship inherently uneven. Matt knew that he would never be as perfect as Finn, and the way that Finn stepped in to care for Celeste after their mother's severe depression surfaced was more than Matt was
able to do. Finn was better. At everything. With everybody. “Mostly because of the issues with my mother. He was always the hero. That wasn't easy for me, I guess.”

  “Celeste thinks you're a hero. Don't you see how she looks at you? She adores you.”

  “Not the way she adores Finn. It's different. I do the boring stuff. I get her to school, feed her, help her with homework, worry about her. I'm no Finn, that's for sure. He's never given a crap about real life. He cares about fun and horsing around. When my mother was away—that's what we call it, away—Finn entertained Celeste, got her laughing, made her wild and free like him. I took care of what needed to be done, and he got all the credit. That's how it's always been.” Finn always got the glory, Matt thought. He was showy and theatrical and wonderful. Matt was good at organization and logistics, neither of which fostered admiration from a little girl. Or maybe anyone.

  “You don't sound as though you like Finn all that much.”

  “On the contrary. He's incredible. He's vivacious and relaxed and unrestrained. Finn gets to do everything I don't, and I envy him.” Even after death, Finn's online persona was certainly having a much better time than Matt was.

  “So Celeste used to be more like Finn?” Julie asked.

  “She did,” Matt said softly. It hurt, remembering Celeste when she was spirited and nearly irrepressible in wonderful ways. Matt wasn't able to save that part of her.

  “I think she's doing better, don't you? A little bit? She pitched a fit because I couldn't find the second season of Glee the other day. I think that's a good sign.”

  “What is Glee?” Matt didn't understand half of Julie's references.

  “Don't worry about it. It's a good thing. And she's asking for trendy clothes for Christmas and wants me to take her shopping too.”

  “So she's becoming devoid of individuality? Exactly what I hoped for.”

  “Shut up. These are good things. Flat Finn is getting another round of hinges in a few weeks. Celeste gave me the go-ahead. Matty, don't you see how much she needs to fit in and needs friends? Can you imagine how desperately lonely she must be?”