Page 75 of Matched

“Last but not least, the library.” Dr. Selena White, my new postgrad supervisor, gestured towards the large building in front of us. “I think we’ve covered… Yes. That concludes our whirlwind campus tour. I know you’ve already been shown around, but I thought it would be prudent to reacquaint yourself with the areas on campus you’ll be using the most.” She quickly flicked through the notepad in her hands and then returned her attention to me. “We’re looking forward to having you join us in September. Now, I believe you have an appointment to view your new accommodation. Do you need directions?”

“I have them on my phone, so I should be okay. Thank you for the refresher tour, though. And thank you for taking the time to meet with me today and going through what I can expect next semester.”

We said our goodbyes, and I opened my maps app, navigating to the flat where I’d be spending the first year of my course. It was only a seven-minute walk from campus, but I wasn’t ready to face it yet, so instead, I turned in the opposite direction, heading towards the city centre. I kept walking until I reached Plymouth Hoe, a huge flat area well above the sea level, with a red-and-white striped lighthouse standing tall at the edge of the open space and a long row of flags dancing in the breeze. Stopping next to the lighthouse, I stared out to sea for a long, long time. Ahead of me, Drake’s Island glimmered green in the sun, surrounded by the deep blue waters of Plymouth Sound. A large ferry skirted it on its way into the port, leaving white-capped waves in its wake. Seagulls circled overhead, ready to dive for any glimpse of potential food.

It was all so beautiful, and yet I felt nothing. I was completely numb.

Closing my eyes, I turned away. It was time to finish what I’d come here for.

I already had the keys to my new flat so I could move my stuff in at my leisure, and so I let myself inside, entering the lounge I’d been so excited about once upon a time. Original Victorian flooring, a tiled fireplace to the right of a huge bay window, high ceilings flanked by ornate coving, and the whole thing decorated in light, neutral colours. It was gorgeous and exactly what I’d thought I wanted.

I was here, in the place I’d chosen, and I couldn’t breathe.

Dropping my duffel bag, I slid down the wall until I hit the floor, burying my face in my hands as a sob tore from my throat.

Hot, thick tears trickled between my fingers, dropping soundlessly to the varnished pine floorboards.

This wasn’t what I wanted anymore, and I didn’t know what to do.

Eventually, I picked myself up. I had a lot of thinking to do, a lot of arrangements to make, and there were no guarantees. Whatever I did next would be a risk, and all I could do was pray it paid off.

My phone battery was down to two percent by the time I’d finished. I was worried it wouldn’t be enough to book me an earlier train ticket, so I walked to the station. With such short notice, there were no direct trains to London with availability, but I managed to book a train to Bristol that was leaving in seven minutes. The helpful man behind the counter dug out a piece of paper and a pen, and noted down the platform number and time of the train I needed to catch in Bristol that would take me directly to London Paddington. Despite the changes, and the fact that it would take so much longer than a direct train, it was good enough. My decision was made; I just wanted to get back.

Back to LSU.

Back to Charlie.

34

Pushing open the door to The Game Room, I stared around me. The place was empty. Completely empty. There wasn’t even anyone behind the bar.

Ducking back outside, I carefully read the sign with the opening times.

Tuesday 4 p.m. - midnight.

It was only three-thirty in the afternoon. I was too early. Nate had arranged to meet me here, but I guess he hadn’t checked the opening times either.

The door was suddenly thrown open. “Charlie Brooks?”

My heart pounding, I stared at the guy who had appeared from nowhere. “Y-yeah?”

He smirked. “You’ll find what you need at the pinball machine.” With that cryptic comment, he turned on his heel andstrode away, ducking behind the bar and disappearing through a door marked “staff only.”

Okay. The pinball machine it was.

When I reached it, I found a large manilla folder placed on top. That was strange in itself, but what was even weirder was that my name was written across the front in black marker pen. When I flipped it open, I was confronted with a printed page, the ink slightly smudged. I scanned the words, my eyes widening as I took them in.

This wasn’t real, was it?

“Charlie.” A firm body pressed up against my back, arms sliding around my waist, and I exhaled properly for the first time since Saturday. Soft lips skimmed over my ear, a huff of warm breath skating over my skin. “I missed you.”

“Nate. What’s this?” My hand shook as I tapped the paper resting on the pinball machine.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” Nate’s voice was low and serious.

Twisting around to face him, I slid my arms around his waist. It was so good to see him. To have him here with me. To feel his body against mine, and to know it wasn’t just a dream. He was actually here with me, right now.

I swallowed hard. “What about?”

---