I wish I had some idea how to properly interact with the rest of the human race. Perhaps I should look into reading a manual. There’s plenty of different “How To” books out there. Surely there must be one that speaks of communication, friendliness and apologies. I’m in dire need of one now seeing as, for the last few days, Matt hasn’t said a word to me nor I to him.

I check my phone over and over only to realize; there’s nothing. No correspondence or attempts to chat, which isn’t unusual. I tell myself this time and time again. Matt and I don’t text everyday, but after the movie, after dinner, I don’t know I thought that we would, I guess? We aren’t talking at all and he won’t even look at me in class. Something is off. Something is very wrong. I want to apologize, but what for?

The date? What Jeremiah said? How I didn’t immediately stand up for him?

How embarrassing. I’m such a fucking loser, never being able to speak my mind when I really need to. The internet always makes me feel like shit, reading about how all these people are able to stand up and defend others so easily while claiming it’s the right thing to do and others should do the same in their position. I think back to what I would do and realize I’d cower in a corner, become the bystander that did nothing that everyone hates.

In the end, another day passes without talking. I go to work where I make so many mistakes that my uniform is basically ruined by the end of the night. The smell is so atrocious that Becky stays on the other side of the room, pinching her nose with a very telling expression. I can’t help it that I ended up spilling nearly every condiment at least once this evening. I slipped on the floor while mopping, managing to kick over the bucket too so the dirty water spread across the floor and my pants.

Returning to the dorms, I overhear Tori grumble from the room, “Whoa, what the hell is that smell?”

“Dana!” He shouts, spotting me kicking off my shoes. He’s sitting at his desk, grimacing upon realizing what that smell is. “Ok, be honest with me. Did you die and a necromancer reanimated your rotting corpse? Because you, my good friend, smell fucking terrible.”

I only sigh, grab clean clothes and slip into the bathroom.

“Take that shit to the laundry asap!” Tori calls from outside the door. “Our dorm is gonna smell for days just from you coming in!”

Another sigh.

This has been a terrible, terrible day.

Tori is right though so those nasty ass clothes are taken to the laundry room immediately. By the time I return, he has finished up his homework and found a comfortable position in bed. Smiling, he asks, “Bad day?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

“I was a klutz.”

Tori snickers. “That’s nothing new.”

“Why do you hurt me?” I groan when flinging myself onto bed, twisting into the blankets until I’ve become a Dana-rito. My phone rests on the bedside table. Although there’s no noise, not even a vibration, I continuously check as if I expect it to light up with a text. A text that never comes.

Inevitably, I snatch that phone along with my headphones. Tori is busy chuckling over some Let’s Play. Rather than disturb him, or risk him sticking his nose in this, I put in my headphones and fall to the ultimate low.

I look up interviews with Matt in hopes to learn something that could lead to me successfully apologizing. Most of the interviews are old, not surprising seeing as it’s been two years since he has been in anything. Some are with co-stars where I thought Matt would put on a show for the camera, but he’s his quiet self, sitting next to them with his usual soft voice and almost shy demeanor. I’m a little shocked when one of his older co-stars brings it up, a sort of friendly taunt as he ruffles Matt’s hair.

“I thought this one was a little snobby when we first met, honestly,” the guy says. I recognize him as having been in quite a few big budget films. In this case, Matt played the younger version of the main character in a movie. “He was very quiet, always off on his own somewhere. I don’t think we really started talking until I took the initiative and even after he always nervously started conversation.”

Matt sinks a little lower in his chair, but he’s smiling when they all laugh. The interviewer then asks, “Were you intimidated, Matt?”

“Yeah,” he answers with a familiar nervous tick I caught him doing before; scratching or flicking his fingernails. “Everyone assumes because I’m an actor that I’m friendly or charismatic, but...when it comes to socializing, I’m not really--” he shrugs. “The best.”

And that certainly shows the more I click through interviews. Matt is distant at school and I thought that wasn’t his usual, but apparently it is because he’s distant in interviews too. His nervous tick shows throughout. Sometimes I catch him even doing things I’ve done when nervous; biting his bottom lip, avoiding eye contact, seeming to desperately plead with his gaze for someone else to answer because he’s at a loss.

My cheeks heat up a bit when I end up falling down the rabbit hole to discover a video specifically about dating. It’s only Matt on screen, wearing a snug black sweater in front of a pale pink background. The video is already playing but I’m about to click off when he pulls a question out of a black jar and reads it aloud, “Have you ever dated?”

I’m not interested. I’m totally not interested. I’m only here to try and find out how to apologize. Why the hell am I still watching?

Matt hums, swaying once in his seat while rolling the paper between his fingers. There’s definitely a tint of pink on his cheeks when he grumbles out a quiet, “Yeah.”

He tosses the slip aside and the interviewer is heard on the other end of the camera, “Just yeah? Give us some details!”

“It just asked if I ever dated,” Matt claims, smiling shyly as he points to the fallen paper. “That’s all you’re getting.”

“Aaaaw.”

But the next question is pulled out and Matt swings back in his chair when whispering, “Can I pick another one?”

“No way!”

Matt hesitates to read the question before fumbling through it, “Have you had your first kiss? If yes, tell us about it.”

Those on set are giggling and clapping while Matt turns red. He’s really obvious in that black sweater. He actually sits there a moment, twisting the paper in his fingers. He won’t look at the camera when he says, “I was 15. We were at a football game. It happened under the bleachers and it tasted like Red Bull. That’s it.”

I’m blushing along with him, having to turn onto my side away from Tori in fear that he’ll notice how red I am. Suddenly, the room is really hot. I’m not here to learn about Matt’s dating life! I wanna know how to apologize!

And yet I don’t click away.

Matt is already digging into the jar for another question as the crew requests more. He shakes his head when reading the final question that actually makes me choke in surprise. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate me because this question is actually helpful in my original plan for watching these videos to begin with; “How would you apologize if your partner was mad at you?”

I look away. For some reason, that question is making my heart race, not that it wasn’t already.

“Depends on what I did,” he answers. “Saying sorry outright is a good start, but I’d like to do something for or with them in hopes to make them feel better. Maybe we could go to the park, see a movie, get some dinner, something like that.”

That’s pretty standard, simple and easy, right? I could do that. But the idea of him saying no has me hesitating. I finally closed out of the video, which was about to end anyways. My finger hovers over Matt’s contact, wondering if I should go through with it. I’d rather ask over text so when he rejects me, it won’t be too bad.

Ok, ok, you got this, Dana. Apologize for what happened the other day and ask if you can treat him to a meal for, y’know, always helping out like with giving you a ride and the umbrella. It’s easy through text.

Because he can’t see the blush that I feel burning behind my cheeks or notice the slight trembling my hand.

Me: Hi, Matt. I’m really sorry about the other day. I wish I said more to Jeremiah. Um, I’m just sorry you saw that. As an apology, I thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? My treat.

I hit send before I can change my mind, but as soon as I read it over, it sounds stupid.

Me: I understand if you don’t want to. Sorry.

That sounds stupid too, ugh! I shouldn’t have said anything.

I bury my face into the pillow, groaning, tapping my fingers, slightly hearing Tori ask me if my reanimated corpse is functioning properly. His comment is ignored until my phone rings. I jump at the sound, shocked to find not a text but rather a call. I half expect it to be my parents until I see Matt’s name on screen.

Wait, why is he calling? Did my text make him that mad? Holy shit, I can’t answer. No way, I’m not answering!

I let it go to voicemail in a panic, shielding myself under the blankets, but then it rings again. I squeak, check and see that it’s Matt again. Tori asks about the call, but I’m rushing out the door with a lie that it’s my parents and I’ll take it in the lounge. If Tori has any other questions, they’re cut off by the door closing and me debating letting this go to voicemail again...but I feel like an asshole for already doing that once.

“H-Hello?” I sputter when making my way to the lounge at the end of the hall. No one else is there so I take a seat on one of the couches.

“Were you busy?” Matt asks. “You didn’t answer the first time.”

“Uh, I was...i-in the shower.”

There’s a moment of silence before Matt asks, “What did you apologize for?”

I’m taken aback enough to only respond with a quiet, “Huh?”

“There’s no reason for you to apologize,” he explains.

I’m tempted to point out how we haven’t talked at all or even acknowledged each other’s existence the last few days, but the words won’t come out.

“You were really upset the other day so--” I pick at the fabric of the couch, nervously peering about the room as if I expect someone to pop up and announce that they know I’m talking to Matt. Obviously that doesn’t happen. “I thought you were mad at me f-for not standing up for you or something.”

“But you did, twice actually.” When I don’t respond to that, he says, “At Subway, with the reporter.”

“Ah...that...I-I mean, does that count? I j-just told him to leave.”

“Yeah, but no one else did,” he says that like he’s the one that’s proud. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s something about his voice that makes me swell up with pride that I didn’t even know I could have.

But all that I manage to say is a quiet, “Oh.”

There’s silence. I’d say it’s uncomfortable, but that isn’t the right word. A sort of anxious veil passes over me, one that is surprisingly warm as the seconds tick away. Topics of conversation fade in and out of my mind, always poking at my vocal chords but never managing to make them work.

In the end, it’s Matt that speaks, “When do you have free time?”

“W-What?”

“For dinner.”

Ah, right, I asked if we could get dinner. Yeah...shit, I shouldn’t have. I don’t know if I can handle it, especially when I can’t stop thinking about Matt’s blush as he sat in front of the pink background. What would he think if I admitted I watched interviews with him like some kind of creepy stalker?!

“Dana?”

I squeak, “Y-yeah? Oh, uh, I work tomorrow morning cause I don’t have classes but, um, I’m free in the afternoon.”

“Ok, I can come get you after work. What time do you get off?”

“No, no, I need to get back to the dorm and clean up first.”

“I can drive you back to the dorm.”

I’m trying to think up reasons to say no, sputtering out a confused, “I get off at three, isn’t that too early for dinner?”

“We can find something to do until dinner. I’ll see you at three then,” he says and by the tone of his voice, I know there is no arguing.

“Ok.” I hope he doesn’t notice how breathless I sound.

Matt suddenly hums, causing me to twist my fingers into my sweats when he asks, “Will your boyfriend be ok with that though? Us getting dinner.”

“B-B-Boyfriend?!”

“The guy, Jerry or whatever.”

Jeremiah, but I don’t point that out because I’m busy explaining, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

Matt’s quiet and I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

“It wasn’t anything s-serious. We just met up and, well, I’m not talking to him anymore so we’re not together. I learned my lesson not to use dating apps,” I quickly tell him, once again feeling guilty for some reason. Then I’m burning up at hearing Matt’s soft chuckle. A chuckle that turns into warm laughter that makes my stomach do flip flops that I’m not ok with.

“Why are you laughing?” I ask, biting my lip to hold back a smile because I shouldn’t be smiling simply because of the sound of his laugh. We definitely can’t go to dinner. I’m going to actually drop dead from embarrassment.

“No reason,” he answers, which is a total lie. “See you tomorrow, Dana.”

“Ok...see you tomorrow.”

Matt hangs up and I’ve clocked out. We’ve had dinner before, but this time feels so much different. Maybe it’s due to my heart refusing to take a rest, or my memory that refuses to forget Matt’s warm laughter and sweet blush.

I’m in trouble.