The Art of Getting Stared At by Laura Langston Page A

The library. Breanne.
    Ella goes nuts as I knew she would and Dad insists Matt have a coffee. I’m forced to push my waffle around my plate for thirty minutes while Matt and Dad talk computers and gaming and cars. Matt and I became friends during a school fundraiser when our dads volunteered at a weekend car wash. We shared a deep and mutual embarrassment over the antics of our fathers as they tried to entice drivers in from the street to get their cars cleaned. Our friendship grew out of that. The evolution from friend to boyfriend six months ago seemed natural. But now everything about it, including his presence here at breakfast, feels awkward. So when he turns to me and asks, “What’s with the hat anyway?” and Kim laughs and says, “Unfortunate, isn’t it?” I know it’s time for him to leave.
    I say my goodbyes to everybody and push back my chair. “I’ll walk you out,” I say to Matt.
    We weave through the crowd to the front door where only a few people still wait in line. A seagull wheels overhead when we reach the sidewalk, its shrill cry piercing the morning air. I stare across the street, waiting for Matt to speak first. I can just make out the low-rise brick buildings and windswept trees in the fog, and a couple of runners heading for Aquatic Park. Out on the water, a foghorn bellows, low and mournful.
    â€œThat’s great news about the Clear Eye invite,” Matt finally says. “I always said you’d make it as a filmmaker.”
    Matt said a lot of things.
    â€œI know that wasn’t the easiest video given the circumstances and it says a lot about your skills that you turned it into something so great.”
    He’s sucking up and I don’t like it. “What’s this about, Matt? Why are you here anyway?” All the fury I’ve stuffed down for the last few days boils to the surface. A couple of tourists look up from the oversized map they’re studying. I turn my back and lower my voice. “We are not going out anymore. In case you missed it.” I’m hurt and confused. I can’t believe he did what he did. I can’t believe he had the nerve to show up today.
    â€œJust because you and I had issues doesn’t mean Ella should suffer.”
    Issues. As in Matt wanted to take our relationship horizontal and I wasn’t ready for that yet. In spite of the fact that I cared about him, something always made me hold back. Matt could be cold sometimes, and distant too. Sleeping with him just didn’t feel right to me ...
    â€œI didn’t have anybody else to give the books to.” He waits while a cable car clangs past. “Besides, we need to talk.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to talk about.”
    He won’t meet my gaze. “Yeah, there is.”
    My heart lurches. Matt feels bad. He’s going to apologize. He’s going to admit he did a stupid thing and ask for another chance.
    â€œIsaac is bad news.”
    And I will give him one because everyone d—“Pardon?”
    â€œIsaac. You need to be careful. The guy’s a player.”
    The two tourists brush past us; I move so we’re not blocking the sidewalk. “You came here to warn me?”
    â€œMostly, yeah. We’ve been friends for a long time. I don’t want you to be hurt.” A muscle twitches in the back of his jaw. “Plus, I think you should let Breanne work with you on the video. Just because you don’t like her doesn’t mean she should be penalized.”
    â€œAre you kidding ?”
    Matt’s mouth falls open. “No.” And it hangs there.
    I realize that Matt hangs his mouth open a lot. Like he’s catching flies. Clearly we are less alike than I thought. My mouth never hangs open.
    â€œShe was the one who posted the shoe video to YouTube. If it wasn’t for Breanne, Clear Eye wouldn’t have seen it and you wouldn’t have been invited to apply for a