The truth untold

Matthew Jones

I tried. I swear I tried, but sleep was the last thing my troubled mind wanted to do the night before. I was literally overcome by fatigue, but by the time I fell asleep, it was the wee hours of the morning. And all because of Anastasia's words, which were hammering in my mind until now, at twenty past seven in the morning.

The few hours of sleep were not enough to give me the necessary encouragement to get out of bed and go to training – something very common, regardless of the shitty night I had. I simply woke up and lay there staring at the ceiling of the room as if there was something fascinating there.

At a certain moment – which I can't distinguish because I did it automatically – I sent messages to Johnny informing him that I wouldn't be at rehearsals today. I only found out what I said because hours later I decided to ask him if he wanted a ride to Rachel's. And there was my shit, visualized and answered with a simple “ok”. In order not to make him worried or paranoid, I decided to play bread and sent the following messages:

This morning* |

Hahaha |

Sorry, it's just sleepiness | |

I believe it was the best and least suspicious way out.

As I sat up in bed, ready to get out of bed and go to the bathroom for a shower, my eyes caught on the calendar stuck on the wall, with today's date circled in red. I blinked a few times, trying to assimilate what was happening.

I have spent the last few days so focused on the championship that I simply did not remember today. How could I forget? I could have forgotten even my birthday, but not today. I pulled the covers away and stood up, walked over to the desk and opened the last drawer, where I took out a round metal can.

With some difficulty, I stuck my hand in and took the silver chain, which shone brightly, as if it was the only object stored in the can. I lifted it to eye level and stared at the pendant, which was nothing more than the letter “R”, composed of several small shiny stones.

I sighed and reached into the can again, pulling out two little woolen shoes that fit in the palm of my hand. They were so small that if I put them on my fingers, they would say they were custom-made for them. I stared at the two objects for a while, and suddenly I felt my body shaking.

“I'm sorry.” I murmured and closed my eyes, feeling the hot tears running down my cheeks.

I just wish I could get this pain off my chest…

***

Anastasia James

“I won't tell you this.” Steph shook her head negatively and started walking towards the practice room, while sipping her coffee.

“So you really know!” I rolled my eyes in surprise and followed her.

“Of course I do.” She said as if it was obvious.

“Tell me!” I begged.

“No way.” She looked at me with a frown.

“Why not?” I rolled my eyes impatiently.

“Because this has nothing to do with me.” She huffed.

“And what's the big deal?” I put my hands on my waist. “You keep telling me a lot of other things that have nothing to do with you, either.”

I stared at her, hoping that my argument would convince her. Steph took the bag off her back and threw it on the floor. She stared at it for a few moments and then sighed, looking up at me.

“I really can't tell you this, Ana. It's a very serious and personal matter.” She gave me a wry smile. “If you really want to find out, you'll have to ask Matt himself.”

I relaxed my shoulders, showing how disappointed I was with his answer. Now that I know that there really is something behind everything, I'm even more curious. But you can't ask Matthew. If it's something so personal, I doubt he'd want to share it with me, a complete stranger!

Shit. I don't know what to do now. If Steph knows and doesn't want to tell me, I really don't know who else to turn to but himself. And I know this doesn't make any sense, but I want to help him. No matter what it is, if I can at least hold his hand and tell him that everything will be alright, I will feel fulfilled, although I feel that this alone will not solve anything.

“Good morning, girls!” Johnny entered the room with the help of his crutches, drawing our attention to himself.

“Good morning!” Steph smiled broadly and went over to help him sit in the chair by the door. “Did you take a cab?”

“Yes, I did.” He nodded, leaning his crutches on the wall.

“Why didn't you wait for Matthew?” She snorted. “He's been using your car up and down the street! It's more than his job to come by your house and pick you up.”

“In fact, I don't even know if he's coming today.” He shrugged, drawing my attention. “He said he would come later, but I know him well. I bet it was just an excuse not to tell the truth. That's why I didn't want to bother him.”

He's not coming? Damn it. How can I try to find out something if the only one who can give me the information disappears out of nowhere? What a drag! Without realizing it, I ended up snorting loudly and rubbed my hands over my face, as a way to ease the stress.

“What's with her?” Johnny asked, making me look at him.

“She's frustrated because I didn't tell her something about your best friend.” He pointed at Johnny and then rolled his eyes.

At that moment, my body lit up in anticipation. Yes, Johnny! He surely knows everything about Matthew. They are best friends, after all!

“My best friend?” He frowned. “You mean Matt?”

“Yes.” I nodded and walked hurriedly to him. “I need you to tell me what happened to him.”

“What do you mean?” He stared at Steph, hoping she would explain further. But the jerk waved her right hand around his neck, indicating that he was not supposed to ask, so I nudged her so that Johnny's focus was all on me.

“I want you to tell me about his past. He has some kind of trauma, right?” I narrowed my eyes. “Of course he does.” I snorted as I thought out loud. “I just need you to tell me what it is.” I looked intently at Johnny, but just as he opened his mouth to answer, Steph interrupted him.

“The question of millions is: Why?” She crossed her arms under her breasts, looking at me suspiciously. “Because up to now you've just gone round and round and round and haven't explained the real reason why you want this information so badly.”

I swallowed hard and looked away from her to Johnny, who was looking at me intently, as curious as Steph was. I closed my eyes and whimpered, knowing that I had no choice. If I am to get this information, I must first tell the truth, no matter how crude it may sound.

“I know how childish this will sound, but…” I pressed my lips together, looking into their eyes. “I feel that I can help him.”

“Help you?” Johnny frowned, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“Yes.” I said.

“Help you with what exactly?” Steph laughed mockingly.

“That's what I don't know!” I pointed my index finger at her. “But yesterday, after everyone left, I stayed a few more minutes to rehearse my part. He saw my worn-out sneakers and asked if they were all I had.” I pointed to the bag hanging on my shoulder, where the sneakers were. “When I told him it was a gift from my dead mother, he got all weird!” I looked at Johnny and then at Steph. “At first, I thought he was sensitive about people with terminal illnesses, but he helps a…”

“Wait.” Johnny interrupted me, raising his right hand to me. “What did you say?”

“I was saying that he helps a little girl…”

“With cancer. Tracy.” He completed my sentence, surprising me. “Yes, I know that.” He nodded. “But did you just say that your mother…?” He left the sentence hanging, waiting for me to complete it.

“My mother is dead.” I said simply. “He even asked me how I got over it so quickly, but what could I say?” I shrugged. “There is no recipe.”

Johnny and Steph looked at each other immediately, and I could clearly see that they were communicating with their eyes, which made me uncomfortable.

“Knock it off!” I waved my hands in front of them, stopping them from continuing. “I want to know too!” I demanded, stamping my foot on the floor. Steph denied it, but Johnny sighed and eventually relented.

“I can't tell you everything, because, besides being something of his, I believe there's a lot more to it than he's actually told us.” He emphasized. “But, all you need to know is that, just like you, Matt also lost someone very important.”

“He what?” I arched my eyebrows in shock.

“Yeah, except he blames himself.” Steph added, and you could tell she didn't want to say that. Now I understand why. “Even though it had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, he never told us that outright.” Johnny tried to smooth things over, but Steph shot him a look.

“He didn't have to! Even Anastasia, who just arrived, has already realized that he has a problem.” She snorted. “And we've tried to talk to him, to convince him of the truth, but he just won't listen!” She threw her arms in the air, visibly frustrated. “He dropped out of the championship and hasn't talked to this one for days.” She pointed at Johnny, who was staring at his hands. “It was a real miracle that he agreed to come back.”

“Matt never wanted to leave.” Johnny spoke up. “He stared at me with his intense green eyes, locked his jaw and turned them to the floor.”

I looked at Steph, and she had her arms crossed, looking across the room. It seems that these two argue a lot about Matt and don't agree on many things…

I took a deep breath and looked at my own hands. Of all the hypotheses I had created in my head from yesterday to today, this one didn't even cross my mind. Now it makes sense why that look was so familiar. My father also looked like that when my mother died. It is the look of someone who is suffering.

I felt my eyes fill with tears as I imagined how long Matt has kept this to himself. It must have been very painful. Yes, it is painful. Otherwise, he wouldn't have tried to walk away. He certainly wanted to ease his friends' worries, but he realized that he would eventually end up eating himself up, so he went back to the championship. At least, with his friends present, he could have some shred of happiness.

My breathing failed me and a strong pressure took over my chest, forcing me to close my eyes tightly. My father once said that my biggest flaw is that I am too easily moved by the pain of others, but I can't help it. It hurts me to know that someone carries such a heavy burden of guilt, without having the slightest share of guilt.

I tried to hold back, but a solitary tear ran down my cheek. As soon as I heard the front door open and close, I immediately rubbed my right hand over my face and turned around, walking away from Johnny and Steph. I hope my nose isn't red, or they will soon know I cried.

I bent down and pulled my bag from my shoulder, setting it on the floor. I opened it carefully and grabbed my sneakers to start warming up. I heard heavy footsteps approaching and felt my heart skip a beat. When I looked toward the door, I immediately caught my breath at the figure standing there.

“I'm home!” Matt announced, making me drop everything and stand up abruptly, surprised that he was the one to enter the practice room. I looked at Johnny, who looked as confused as I was, and looked back at the man who had just arrived.

“I thought you were coming later.” Johnny raised his right hand, greeting his friend.

“I decided to save what I had to do for later.” He stared at me. “We have to rehearse for a championship, right?” He smiled.

I don't know if I'm seeing things, but the expression lines under Matt's eyes indicated that he had been crying. A lot. But, on the other hand, his broad smile lit up his whole face, making those little marks go unnoticed.

It's amazing how one day I'm hating him, and the next I'm suffering for his pain, which has always been there, masked. I feel pathetic about this, but I also really admire Matthew's strength. If this is a bad day for him, the wide smile on his face just shows how much he wants to fight for it…

“I think it's really good, see?” I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms under my breasts, smiling minimally. “If you think about leaving the boat before your time, I'll come after you!”

“Threatening me now, are you?” Matthew laughed nasally. I smiled, pleased with his good humor.

“Who's threatening who here?” Kaleb came into the practice room, eating an apple and holding tightly to the cross strap of his bag.

“Threatening?” Scott had also just arrived. “Are they making threats?”

“What threats?” Greg asked and we all laughed.

In the middle of laughing, I ended up staring at Matt, who was teasing Kaleb about his curly red hair. He was smiling broadly, and his eyes were so bright, they warmed my heart. When he threatened to look at me, I tried to concentrate on getting my sneakers from my purse. I have to stop staring at him to try to decipher what he is thinking or feeling. Soon he will think that I am manic – or that I am hopelessly interested in him. I laughed at the thought. This is exactly the kind of thing he would say to provoke me.

I sat down on the floor and picked up my sneaker, fitting it to my foot. I started to loop the tape around my ankle and looked up into the mirror, meeting Matthew's gaze. He blinked a few times, awkwardly, so I smiled, receiving a small smile in response.