Welcome to the Family

“My guys probably won’t be back until late night, wanna watch a movie or something?” Matt suggested after Mom left. “Come on, movies are boring,” I replied. He would have to think of something else. I didn't want to jump at the first proposition he made, although it made my knees weak that he actually asked.

“Alright, how about I show you around HB a little? You know, the house where I grew up, where I went to school, the place where we had our first gig, how’s that sound?” Surprised at how much it sounded like a date, I gasped “yes” immediately. Stupid, I know.


About half an hour later, Matt steered the van into the driving lot of Huntington Beach High School.
“Here’s where I went to school and where some of my craziest stories happened,” Matt began as he got out of the car. “Come on,” he said and lifted me over a fence, jumping over it right after me. We then climbed the top of a building and sat down on the roof.

“I hated school so much,” he chuckled, lost in memories. “My parents always had to drive me there to prevent me from skipping, but whenever they drove away I just got onto another bus downtown where I spent the better part of my days with Zacky and Jimmy. If it wasn’t for Amy, my parents would have noticed long ago.” He grinned before continuing.

“At night we sometimes went to school and sprayed graffiti or started small fires. One night that kinda got outta control and we watched the school’s gym burn down to the ground. I’m not really proud of that, but hey, that’s who I am, right? I also became known as the ‘guy who killed the principal’ for that. Good old Mr. Fowler had a heart attack when he saw what happened. I know it didn’t make it right, but I donated fifty thousand bucks to my school first moment I had them.”

“And you?” Matt looked at me with a curious expression. “Tell me about your time in high school.” I took a deep breath. “Well, my high school career consisted of successfully avoiding food at any cost. I fainted during sports and I had to cancel my flight for an exchange program to Germany simply because I was too weak. I took German because I wanted something to finally be good at, although now I wish I’d taken Spanish.

"That’s why I took it at university I guess. I failed three classes in my junior year, which is why I re-did the whole year. I once got expelled for skipping my woodworking class for an entire year. But yeah, I never did anything as interesting as you, and I don’t know if that’s supposed to make me feel proud or something,” I chuckled and he laughed.

We stared at the school complex in silence for another half an hour before returning to the car. Matt steered through the streets, obviously knowing exactly where he was heading. Well, at least one of us who did. When he stopped the car the next time, we were standing in front of a small suburbian house. On both of its sides were other houses, looking just the same.

“Here’s where I grew up,” he explained before changing to a whisper, “but we gotta be quiet. A family’s living in there as far as I know now.”
We snuck out of the car and then climbed an apple tree in the garden.

“That’s where my treehouse was,” Matt grinned, “right here. And whenever I fought with my parents or with my girlfriend or whatever, here’s where I went. Sometimes I even went here when I was like 19 or something. And here’s where my first kiss happened. You know, sixth grade, big deal. At school I told her I liked her in front of all my classmates. I was one of the popular, cool guys. And she… Well, it was Valary.”

I swallowed thickly at her name, but then remembered I didn’t need to be afraid of her anymore. “You know, the Italian belle who just moved here. She didn’t say anything and man, I thought I fucked up. But she came to my home later, and my dad told her where I was, so she just came up here and kissed me.”

By now, he was sitting close to me, looking at my face. I could see his hazel eyes sparkle from the moon light and that was probably one of the most romantic moments I’ve ever experienced. “So, your turn, freckles,” he ordered mockingly, “your first kiss?” I grinned.

“Seventh grade. My grandpa had this apartment in Montreal where my sister and I went to each summer, well, that was before she died. We played spin the bottle with the neighbors, they were about our age and yeah. I hated it, even though it was just a peck on the lips.” “Like this?” he asked and quickly pressed his lips against mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah,…” I replied, feeling my face turn red.

“Well, that doesn’t count for shit, I pecked like ten girls before my first real kiss. I’m talking about french kisses here, baby,” he stated with a broad, sly smile on his face. “Alright, got it. Seventh grade, too. My first boyfriend," I said, using air quotes, "was upset because our middle school soccer team lost and he was the captain. And we were, like, the only ones left on the field and then, somehow, it just happened.”

“Like this?” he asked again, and before I knew what was happening he captured my lips in a gentle kiss. After a few seconds, his tongue lightly brushed against my lower lip, asking for entrance. Just before I opened my mouth, I heard a loud crack and suddenly, Matt’s lips were gone. What? Wait slow down, my brain hasn't even processed that we kissed yet. How? Where? Why is he gone now?

“Shit,” I heard someone laugh right below me. The branch had broken! I tried to suppress my laughter. “Come down Vicca, quick,” he whispered before someone switched on the light on the porch. “Duck!” I ordered as a flashlight was added. Matt did as he was told and I pressed myself against the cold tree bark. After a few minutes, both lights were switched off and I returned to Matt with my heart beating loud and fast. I felt the adrenaline rush through my veins. We quickly got into the car and drove away as fast as we could.

“Can you believe it? We’re in a fucking tree trying to make out and then the fucking branch breaks?” Matt laughed. I joined him, trying to determine what had excited me more, kissing him or almost getting caught by the people who lived there now.

After showing me a tiny bar where they had their first gig, we drove to an empty machinery hall. It was completely dark there, but I could see that it must have been abandoned for a while as there were dirty cobwebs hanging in front of dusty, broken windows.

We got out of the car and Matt gently lifted me onto the hood of the van, climbing to sit there right after me. “Here’s where I first got passed-out drunk. I was like… thirteen maybe, and we were celebrating, I don’t even remember what but I definitely remember that each one of us drank about a bottle of jaegermeister schnapps.

"That night I got so wasted, I jumped through that fucking window over there,” he motioned toward one of the broken windows. “And when the glass broke, there was this loud alarm and we quickly ran away and never returned, well, until I came here with you tonight, I guess.” Matt chuckled and I laughed because that was such a typical story for a young boy.
Neither of us said anything for a very long time. Instead, we just sat there and admired the stars for a while.


“So, your story?” Matt finally broke the silence. I grinned at the memory of a certain night in my life and began, “So, I was sixteen and I was visiting my other grandparents in Germany. They live in a tiny town somewhere close to the Austrian border, and there it’s very conservative and very, very rural. But the drinking age for beer in Germany is 16, so I bought myself and my childhood friend, who was 15 at that time, 20 half-liter bottles of beer. So we sat on this playground and started drinking, and you know, German beer is so much stronger than what we know in America, plus I wasn’t used to drinking at all. It all resulted in me falling off the seesaw and getting stitches at the back of my head.”

Matt grinned a little and then asked, “You got a scar?” So I told him that it was nearly invisible, but he still wanted to touch it. He gently ran his fingers through my hair until he finally found the spot where my head had hit the ground. Next, he pulled me closer and softly kissed the scar. But he didn’t let go of me after that.

Instead, he let his arm rest around my shoulders. When he noticed my goosebumps, he immediately took off his jacket and placed it around me before pulling me into his arm again. I let out a sigh and placed my head against his warm chest, deeply inhaling his unique scent.

M Shadows, what are you doing to me?

Notes

Update! Awww so much romance, can we all cuddle up and awwwww together right now? Alright, alright. One, two, three... awwwww!

What do you think of their "date"? Are things too good to be true right now?