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Celeste lay in a heap on the floor, choking on her sobs.
“We can’t have this in the house! It’s not normal, Celeste. You’re not doing this to us! You’re not keeping that!” Matt had no idea how he was forming words right now. His thoughts were fuzzy, all rationale drowned out by the piercing ringing in his head. He cringed as she slammed her hands into the floor over and over.
He took a few steps toward her, and she lunged at him, pushing her fists into his chest as she tried to rush past him to reach Flat Fi
“Matty!” she screamed through sobs. “Just this one thing! Let me have him!”
“Absolutely not! Are you kidding me with this?”
“STAY AWAY FROM ME! HE BELONGS TO ME, NOT TO YOU! I GET TO HAVE THIS. MATT! I GET TO HAVE THIS! I DO!”
Matt froze, but kept her in his grasp. He had never heard her like this before. “Celeste….” His voice was softer now. From his own grief. From his own fear.
She spun around and fell into him, hitting his arms hard and still screaming. “YOU HAVE TO LET ME! YOU HAVE TO LET ME! I ca
Matt held her tightly while he tried to pull himself together. “Okay. It’s okay. Everything will be fine. You’ll keep Flat Fi
They stayed on the floor together as Celeste recovered. As they both recovered. She lay down, using his lap as a pillow, and Matt wiped her face dry with his hands.
Matt was too scared to say anything else, but finally she looked over at Flat Fi
“Honey,” Matt started. “That’s not….”
“I am fully aware that is not the real Fi
Matt just nodded.
“I want to talk about Fi
“Okay.” He paused. “Let’s talk about Fi
“Where do you think that Fi
“I do.”
“If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that Fi
Matt took her hand in his. “And what would he be doing there?”
“A strenuous bike tour through indescribably beautiful landscapes.” She shut her eyes. “Where would he go next?”
“After he’d romanced all the available women?”
Celeste laughed softly. “Yes.”
“Finland, of course.”
“He would not! You are very fu
“Fine. Then he would go to the Netherlands.”
“And next winter he would ski in Austria. I know that would be a favorite of his. Can we go online later and look at pictures?”
“Sure. That would be fun.”
Celeste rolled onto her side, letting him rub her back. “Tell me more, Matty. Tell me about all the adventures that Fi
Matt smiled. “I can do that. Sure. I’ll do whatever you need.” He took a deep breath. “Well, Mali has a number of volunteer opportunities….”
Staying
Flat-Out Love, Chapter 8, Matt’s Point of View (MPOV)
Matt Watkins This status update is way too condescending. That means it's talking down to you, you may not have known that.
Fi
Julie Seagle Everything should be open 24 hours a day, all the time. I can't be expected to know in advance when I'm going to need anything.
Matt took his time walking home. Even though he had a ton of work to do that night, even though his messenger bag was now cutting deeply into his shoulder after the T was delayed, and even though he was starving and desperately wanted to scrounge for food, he wasn’t eager to get home. She was there. Julie. The girl who had invaded their family and disrupted the delicate balance Matt had fought so hard to establish.
Her presence here was a reminder of everything Matt had lost. They were all lying about Fi
As much as having her around threatened the equilibrium of the household, Matt would miss Julie. That didn’t make sense, considering he’d only known her for a few days, but he couldn’t deny that she had an energy and light about her that brought Celeste noticeable happiness. No, perhaps not happiness, exactly. But he saw a spark in Celeste that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Watching the two of them on the couch the other night while they went through Julie’s course book and photos on her computer terrified him, but he also saw Celeste press Julie for interaction in a rather wonderful way. His terror had more to do with how Julie was going to respond to this kid who carted around a cardboard brother. The truth was that Julie’s ability to navigate so seamlessly around the Flat Fi
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he walked up the steps to the gray house just off Brattle Street in Cambridge. It was impossible to come home and not have a moment of pain. There would always be the split second of anticipation that Fi