5. Matt
five
Matt
A pril 28
I stared down at my phone, frowning at the latest email from Casey. That little pink-haired troublemaker had turned me down for the job, but for some reason, he kept emailing me his "brilliant ideas" for the camp. And why did each one of the brilliant ideas cost so much?
If he was here, in person, I probably would have strangled him. Maybe.
Or talked it through and realized he was right, because fuck him. Why did he have to keep being right?
"Earth to Matt," Sylvie's voice broke through my Casey-induced trance. I looked up to see my friends giving me exasperated looks from across the worn Formica table of the Ridge Cafe.
"Sorry," I mumbled, shoving a forkful of hash browns in my mouth. "What'd I miss?"
My brother, Ben, rolled his eyes. "You asked Sylvie how things are going with her new rock gym, and she answered you.”
"Oh right," I said, trying to focus on the conversation. "I’m sorry, thoughts were elsewhere. How's that going, Syl?"
My best friend, who was well aware of my ADHD, grinned, her freckled nose crinkling. "Man, I wish Frank had told me how much of a mess he’d made of things before he sold me the place." She snorted. "But it was worth it, right?”
I nodded. “You’ve loved that place since we dated.”
She laughed. “Since the pre-lesbian era.”
“Is that how it works? Weren’t you always a lesbian?” I teased.
“Nope, it was the sight of you naked in that hotel room after prom that turned me.”
I flipped her off. “Fuck you. I was hot at 18.”
“My point exactly. I knew, objectively, that you were a very attractive guy, but there was just no urge to jump your bones. So, lesbian awakening!” She did jazz hands. “Anyway, things are picking up at the gym. The new social media campaign Sutton suggested was genius."
Sutton blushed, scooting a little closer to Ben, who wrapped his free arm around Sutton’s waist. “It was nothing, just a few tweaks to what you were already doing.”
I reached out and patted Sutton’s hand, silently thanking my future brother-in-law for helping my friend. Sylvie had poured her heart and soul into that gym, and she deserved for it to be a success. My phone buzzed and I glanced down, wondering if Casey had emailed again, but it was just a text from my dad.
I shouldn’t have found that disappointing.
“So, Matt, I thought you had a strict ‘no phones at the table’ policy,” Ben said, waggling his eyebrows at me. “You don’t even like cell phones.”
Sylvie stretched her neck, trying to peek at my screen. “Maybe he’s addicted to Candy Crush.”
“He’s looking for messages from Casey. This college student he’s obsessed with,” Sutton said.
“I’m not obsessed! I just don’t understand why he turned down the job, but still keeps emailing me.” I looked at my phone again, scrolling to refresh the emails.
“Put the phone down," Sutton said, reaching across the table to take the phone out of my hand. “What is it you always say? Be present with the people right in front of you.”
A laugh bubbled up despite my frustration. "Aren't I usually the one telling you to get off Instagram?"
Sutton's lips quirked into a grin. "Well, well. How the tables have turned." He leaned back, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "Guess who gets to be the smug mindful hippie one now."
Ben and Sylvie burst into laughter, and I felt my cheeks heat.
"It's just..." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Casey's got this new idea, and I don't know what the fuck to do with it."
“I thought he turned down the job?” Sutton said, frowning.
I waved my phone in the air. "He did. But he seems concerned that there will be no music unless he meddles. He thinks we need to procure guitars and percussion instruments for the campers. Like, enough that they can make their own little jam band. Or rock band. How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"
Sylvie's eyes lit up, her problem-solving nature kicking in. "You know, that's not a bad idea," she mused, tapping her fingers on the table. "Why don't you put out a call for donated instruments? I bet there are plenty of people with old guitars collecting dust in their attics."
I blinked, surprised by the simplicity of her suggestion. "Huh. That's... actually not a bad idea."
Sutton snorted, rolling his eyes. "Or you could just tell Casey no. You don't have to do everything he says, you know. He’s not even your employee."
I felt a flare of defensiveness rise inside me. "I don't do everything he says," I protested. “He’s very annoying. Maybe I’ll just convince him to work for us, after all. Since he’s sending these emails, anyway. Shouldn’t I be paying him?”
Sutton smirked. “Paying him to annoy you?”
The conversation lulled for a moment as our waitress arrived with our food. As we dug in, Sutton asked Ben how his latest project as a book cover designer was going.
Ben rolled his eyes. "The author is driving me absolutely insane. She keeps telling me what she wants, then when I give her the rough drafts, she tries to say she asked for something completely different. As if I don’t have the email receipts."
Sylvie chuckled. "Sounds like a nightmare. What's the book about?"
As Ben launched into a description of the fantasy romance novel he was designing for, I found my mind wandering back to Casey and his ridiculous ideas.
"It's just that Casey is so aggravating when I don't listen to him." I froze, my fork halfway to my mouth. Did I just say that out loud? I looked up to find three pairs of eyes fixed on me, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. "What?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant as I set my fork down.
Sylvie leaned forward, her green eyes narrowing. "Matt, honey, it's a bit nutty that you're letting a college kid push you around like this."
“A college kid you didn’t even hire,” Sutton added.
I felt my cheeks flush. "I'm not letting him push me around," I protested weakly. "He’s just very passionate, that's all. Drives me crazy, but he’s surprisingly insightful."
I broke off as I realized my three friends had started giggling. Sylvie was shaking her head, while Ben and Sutton exchanged knowing looks.
"Oh my god," Sylvie gasped between giggles. "Matt, sweetie, do you maybe have a little crush on this Casey guy?"
I felt my face grow even hotter. “What? No! Of course not! That's ridiculous! He’s only twenty. Not that I was even considering the age gap, like it’s not like I sit around doing the math, thinking about how he’s too young for me.” Shit, from their expressions, I could tell I was digging myself deeper. “And he’s very annoying."
Sutton grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. "I think you might be right," he stage-whispered to Sylvie, setting off another round of laughter. “How did I not see it?”
“He keeps calling me a lumbersexual!”
My traitorous friends wouldn't listen to reason. Sutton, the little shit, was already fumbling for his phone.
"I've got a picture of Casey somewhere," he announced, scrolling frantically. "You've gotta see this guy, Sylvie. He’s hot. But like, gay, femme, pink-haired Korean boy band hot."
"Oh for fuck's sake," I muttered, making a half-hearted grab for Sutton's phone. But he twisted away, triumphantly holding up the screen. On it, there was a selfie of Oliver and Casey making faces at the screen somewhere in Portland.
“You follow him on Instagram?” I asked, scrolling.
“He followed me,” Sutton said, shooting me a knowing look.
“I’m not jealous, I don’t even like Instagram,” I grumped.
Sylvie leaned in and took Sutton’s phone, her green widening. "Oh. My. God. Matt, he's adorable! He could be a K Pop idol. Those dimples! That perfect floppy pink hair!"
I pointedly avoided looking at the photo, even as my mind conjured up the image of Casey's boyish grin. "He's not adorable," I grumbled. "He's infuriating. And way too young for me. He doesn’t even turn 21 until April.”
Ben, ever the voice of reason, piped up. "It's only an eight-year gap. That's not huge. When you’re 48, he’ll be 40. No biggie."
I threw up my hands in exasperation. "Have you all lost your ever-loving minds? There is no 'gap' because there is nothing going on! I don’t even like him. I’m not thinking about what he’ll be like at 40."
With that, I dropped my head to the table with a dull thunk, letting out a long, pained groan. Maybe if I stayed like this long enough, they'd forget I existed and move on to torturing someone else.
"Poor Matty," Sutton cooed, patting my head. "It's okay to admit you have a little crush. Everyone gets them, even burly outdoorsmen like yourself have feelings.”
I lifted my head just enough to glare at him. "The only feeling I have right now is the overwhelming urge to strangle my stepbrother and his boyfriend and throw their bodies into Eagle Lake."
As they burst into fresh peals of laughter, I dropped my head back down, desperately trying to tune them out. This was going to be a long lunch.