My Heart's in Alabama

16 - Kiersten

When we get home around 6 o'clock, I head straight to Matt's like I promised I would.

I hop up on his porch steps and knock against his door. I hear some rustling in there followed by steady footsteps heading towards the door. Not far behind, there's a heavy clunking of someone rushing down the stairs.

"I got it!" I hear Matt shout from inside.

The door swings open and Matty greets me with a warm smile.

"Hey," he says.

I foolishly believe he's excited to see me, but his true feelings are revealed when his eyes zero in on the greasy bag of fried chicken in my hand.

"You got Chick-fil-A?"

"Yep," I say, patting the bag. "Spicy chicken sandwich, chicken nuggets, waffle fries, mac and cheese, and two strawberry milkshakes just like you asked."

"Awesome, thanks," he says and gestures towards the porch swing. "Perfect timing, too. My dad is driving me insane."

"Why? What's he up to now?"

"He's re-organizing the house."

As soon as Matt says the words re-organize, I know exactly what he's talking about. Every few months or so, Mr. Purdy gets in this crazy headspace where he has a compulsive need to turn the entire house upside down in the name of cleanliness. It's usually triggered by something. A misplaced sock, an overfilled garbage can, unwashed dishes. It seems the smallest things can set him off, but I don't know. It always seems so much deeper than that. The misplaced sock only becomes a problem a few days before his mom's birthday, the overfilled garbage is tolerable up until the month of his parent's anniversary, the unwashed dishes can wait, but not when his dad is looking for Carrie's favorite stuffed animal and he finds one of his mom's earrings instead.

I think deep down, Matt knows this too.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Matt shifts his eyes downward. He grows quiet and small as he looks down at his food and not at me.

"Not really," he mumbles.

He studies his nuggets intently, avoiding eye contact. He picks through them, tossing each one aside due to their non-apparent flaws. Seemingly losing his appetite, he chucks the basket of nuggets back into the bag.

"Let's talk about you," he says, forcing himself to lighten the mood. "How'd dress shopping go? Did you find anything?"

Sensing that Matt would rather move on than linger on his rare loss of appetite, I follow his lead and get myself in a cheery mood.

"I did! I was a little unsure of it at first, but I really like it. It'll be perfect. If my dad lets me wear it out, that is."

Matt chuckles lightly and nods his head in that way you do when you don't really know what someone's talking about, but you don't want to be impolite. I smirk to myself and don't say anything, because honestly, it's kind of cute how hard he tries sometimes. I decide to mess with him just a little, as I know he would do the same to me.

"And it'll look great in pictures," I say to add to his confusion.

He nods along some more, but I see his eyes squint like he's trying to solve a complex math equation. I can practically hear him repeat pictures? to himself as he questions his own sanity. He thinks on it some more, with me trying to contain my smile before he gives up the ruse.

"I'm sorry, what's this for again?"

"Homecoming."

"Oh right, duh," Matt says. A second goes by after it sinks in, and his tone quickly turns to one of surprise. "Wait. Your dad is letting you go?"