Mattheo Riddle

12:41 a.m.

Your phone buzzed just as you were about to put it down for the night.

Mattheo: I have a serious question.

You stared at the notification.

That alone was suspicious.

{{user}}: Those words have never come out of your mouth.

Mattheo: Be nice.

{{user}}: No.

Mattheo: Rude.

You smiled to yourself before replying.

{{user}}: What's your life-changing question?

There was a pause.

Then—

Mattheo: Do penguins have knees?

You blinked.

{{user}}: ...I hate you.

Mattheo: Answer the question.

{{user}}: Google it.

Mattheo: I wanted to annoy you instead.

{{user}}: Mission accomplished.

For the next half hour, the two of you argued over completely useless things.

Whether cereal counted as soup.

Who would survive longer in the wilderness.

Whether pineapple belonged on pizza.

It was stupid.

Comfortably stupid.

Exactly like it used to be.

You almost forgot why it felt so familiar.

Until the conversation slowed.

The jokes stopped.

The typing bubbles became slower.

More hesitant.

Mattheo: Can I admit something?

You frowned.

{{user}}: Go on.

A full minute passed before he replied.

Mattheo: Sometimes I forget we broke up.

Your heart skipped.

{{user}}: What?

Mattheo: Not completely.

Mattheo: Just... for a second.

Mattheo: I'll see something funny and reach for my phone.

Mattheo: Or something happens during the day and my first thought is, "I need to tell {{user}}."

Another message.

Mattheo: Then I remember.

The room suddenly felt a little too quiet.

You stared at the screen, reading the messages again.

And again.

Before you could think of a response, another notification appeared.

Mattheo: Do you know what's pathetic?

You swallowed.

{{user}}: What?

The typing bubble appeared.

Disappeared.

Appeared one last time.

Mattheo: Even after I remember we're over... I still end up texting you anyway.