Page 2 of I've Walked Where You've Been
Well…he could definitely get used to that.
Matty could feel the bond lightening up as the idea settled into him. Could feel, somehow, Ethan reacting to Matty’s own optimism. It felt almost…nice.
Yeah. Maybe this bond thing wouldn’t be so bad.
**********
Matty’s positive outlook didn’t last very long. In fact, it barely lasted a day.
He was buzzing happily on the way to Ethan’s—his parents had let him skip school, which had already put him in a good mood—and he was ready to spend the day playing. He’d seen that Ethan’s house had a large backyard, and grabbed his soccer ball and his goalie gloves, hoping that Ethan would be up for playing outside even though it was a little cold.
Ethan didn’t seem particularly happy to see him when Matty arrived, but there was curiosity through the bond, like a dog sniffing the air.
“Hey,” Ethan said shyly, peering around his mom. Matty couldn’t help but think it was weird—he didn’t know any other nine-year-olds that would be so openly clingy with their parents. Only little kids did that.
Some of that must have seeped through the bond—not the thoughts, of course, but Matty must have been too obvious in his judgment, because Ethan blushed bright red, glowering. They stood there, looking at each other, Matty not knowing if he should apologise for something he hadn’t evensaid.
“You wanna play some soccer?” Matty suggested instead.
Ethan’s mom gave him a tiny little push. “That sounds fun, doesn’t it? Go put on your jacket and shoes.”
Matty watched his parents making small talk with Ethan’s parents as Ethan got ready, and turned down a drink in favour of going out into the yard.
“You wanna play whoever scores is goalie?” Matty asked.
Ethan looked at the ball dubiously. “Okay,” he said even though the bond was still crackling unhappily with static.
“Cool. You can be goalie first if you want. Here, use my gloves.”
Ethan was small and pale, and his dark hair was cut neatly, brushed into a side part. He looked sort of ridiculous with the gloves on; they were too big for his hands even though Matty and Ethan were the same age. Matty was a little tall for his age, though, a little gangly already, always dishevelled despite his mom’s best efforts. He hadn’t brushed his brown hair that day—or the previous week, honestly, and it was a complete mess compared to Ethan’s.
Not that it mattered—it’d get all crazy while playing anyway.
“Let’s get something to show where the goal is,” Matty ordered. Ethan complied silently, grabbing a pair of shoes from inside and resting them against the fence where Matty indicated before standing in the space, feet together and hands not even raised.
“Ready?” Matty asked dubiously.
Ethan nodded, finally putting his hands up.
Through the bond, a shot of unease filled Matty. “Dude, do you want me to be goalie first?”
“Uh, yeah. Okay.”
They switched sides, Matty trying not to be irritated that Ethan wouldn’t justsaysomething. From the look on Ethan’s face, he wasn’t succeeding.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Matty said and then watched Ethan kick the ball so softly that it just rolled over to Matty. “Uh, good try,” he lied, kicking the ball back to Ethan.
Ethan scowled. This bond thing was a nightmare.
It took about a hundred years, by Matty’s calculation, for Ethan to score. By that time, Ethan was embarrassed and grumpy, and Matty was exasperated—not by Ethan’s lack of ability, but by the way he’d obviously given up even trying a few kicks in.
“Whoo, good goal,” Matty cheered. Ethan’s scowl deepened.
This lying thing was impossible while bonded to someone, jeez.
“Okay, ready?” Matty asked once Ethan had the gloves on.
Ethan barely nodded. Matty aimed, trying not to kick too hard, and promptly shot the ball straight into Ethan’s face.
