Matt & Zoe Read Free Page A

time. Paul was never relaxed. In fact, he looked like the most stressed out human being I had ever seen. He was stocky, with a thick muscled neck and sometimes awkward movements. He always used to look like he was thirty seconds from a heart attack. Now, he still looks red in the face, a little parboiled, but the stressed-out look in his eyes has melted.
    “Marriage seems to agree with you.”
    His smile reveals orderly gleaming teeth. I think they’re new… I don’t remember that unnatural smile.
    “How long have you been watching them?”
    “Ever since the accident, I’ve been coming over twice a day. Although Mono needs more attention. I’ve been riding him in the morning, but he missed Jasmine.”
    Jasmine hugged Mono again. “Can I ride him now?”
    Paul looks at me, and it takes me a fraction of a second longer than it should for it to sink in that he’s looking to me for permission. Because I’m in charge, both of the horses... and of Jasmine. I shiver. I’m not ready for this.
    “Go get your boots.” The words feel awkward coming out of my mouth.
    Jasmine plants a huge kiss on Mono, then jumps down from the rail and runs for the house.
    “I’ve never ridden Mono.” I’m eyeing the horse as I say the words. He’s huge. I know Jasmine rides him all the time, but it still makes me a little nervous.
    “Jasmine handles him like a pro,” Paul says. “She’ll be fine. Nettles is out back with Eeyore. Wasn’t she yours?”
    I nod. Mom always wanted me to be into horses, just like Dad wanted me to be into literature. Neither got what they wanted. “They’re doing okay?”
    “Yeah. They’ve all been moody. They miss your mom.”
    I swallow, unable to reply to his words. I do too.
    My Fault (Matt)
    When my phone rings, it’s two in the afternoon and I’m already late. I’ve spent the day driving from place to place, buying supplies for my classroom for the year. Dry-erase markers, paper, crayons, construction paper, glue—the staples of elementary education. Every year the school provides fewer materials and I buy more. I’m used to making do with even less, so it’s fine. At least the supplies are tax-deductible.
    I take my right hand off the wheel and fumble to pick up the phone. It’s Tyler Norris, a fellow elementary school teacher. There are very few men teaching in the lower level grades, so the two of us form a sort of fraternity, even though we’re nothing alike. Tyler is … exuberant. He’s outgoing, muscular, a guy’s guy. He’s an assistant coach for the high school football team and drinks like a fish. Beer, mostly. I’m pretty sure he was the guy chugging Jägermeister from the bottle in college while his frat buddies shouted, “Chug! Chug! Chug!”
    He’s also my best friend, though it would be impossible for us to be more different from each other.
    I lift the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
    No fancy Bluetooth or electronics for me. My Toyota is twelve years old. My flip-phone and the eight-year-old Mac I bought my freshman year at Boston University still work just fine. I love technology, but I love being out of debt more. I’m trying to pay off my student loans before I turn sixty.
    “Yo, Matty, what up? Where are ya?” Tyler’s voice is boisterous with an undercurrent of gravel.
    “I’m on my way, I got held up in traffic in Hadley. It’s chaos from the students coming back at UMASS.”
    “Right, right. They’re ready to start without you.”
    I mutter a curse. “I’m ten minutes away. Stall them, please.” As I say the words, I pull out into the traffic circle. Everything goes black as a minivan comes out of nowhere and crushes the front of my Toyota. Force yanks me toward the steering wheel, but the seat belt locks me in place. With a loud bang, the airbag deploys right into my face.
    It takes a few seconds before the shock lifts. I turn off the car and just breathe.
    Steam pours out of the front of my car, and Tyler is shouting in my phone “Matty? Matty?