“I couldn't help it,” he whispered back.

He was quiet for a moment. The charge between them—it was the elevator chat all over again. When there was trust, and honesty, and salvation, and love. He felt it. “Julie?”

“Yeah, Matt?”

He took a breath before he spoke, before he would say what was going to change everything. “It's like we're free—”

“Oh my God!” Julie said, cutting him off. “I totally forgot to ask you.”

“Um… Ask me what?” Matt's heart was pounding.

“My friend Dana wants you to call her.”

How could he for one minute have thought that her heart was his? Stupid. It was utterly impossible. It was good thing that she’d stopped him from saying anything. Matt fought to fake his usual tone, fending off the tremble that wanted to take over. “That's not asking me anything.”

“Stop correcting me. She wants to go out with you, you dork!”

“Oh.” Matt groaned with more drama than necessary, but he needed a reason to turn his head away. Getting flustered was not something he was used to. Or liked. “I don't know about that.”

“Matty, come on. You never go out!” Julie pleaded. “She's really cool. You'd like Dana.”

“I'll think about it. How's that?” he offered. The last thing that he felt like talking about with Julie was taking out her friend. Good God, this was awful. Julie sounded so genuinely enthusiastic about the idea of him going out with someone else. She felt nothing for him, that was now clear. There was no Finn/Matt crossover. So that was that. And he would regroup quickly because he knew how to do that when necessary.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

Matt turned back and wrinkled his face. Did she really think he was that inexperienced? Or that he was that undesirable? “Of course I've had a girlfriend. What kind of question is that?”

Julie shrugged. “I don't know. You never mention anyone.”

“I will admit that the romantic area of my life has been slow recently. I simply don't have time to go out with anyone right now. You know what my schedule is like with school and with Celeste.”

“So you haven't dated since…you know? Celeste. The Flat Finn stuff.”

“Not much. I had a pretty serious girlfriend, but then…” Matt struggled for how to say what he wanted to without saying too much. “Things changed around here.”

“With Celeste?”

Matt nodded.

She didn't say anything for a minute. “When something happened?”

Matt nodded again.

“I'm sorry,” Julie said. “Because whatever it is, I can tell that you're dealing with it too. Maybe someday you'll want to tell me about it.”

 “Maybe someday,” Matt agreed. He wasn't one for talking deeply about anything to do with Finn's death, ever. But knowing that he could, even in this peripheral way, felt surprisingly good. “And my girlfriend at the time wasn't interested in staying together. Not everyone can tolerate my life. This house.”

“I love Celeste, but she's hurting you, isn't she?”

“Don't say that. I would sell my soul for my sister.”

“I know you would.” Julie spoke slowly, and Matt knew that she was choosing her words with particular care. “But you must be angry with Finn for leaving. For making whatever happened to Celeste worse.”

“I am angry with Finn.” This was true.

He was angry with Finn for dying, for being dumb and reckless enough to jump into a car driven by someone clearly in the middle of a mental breakdown.

He was angry with Finn for being heroic enough to sacrifice his life for his mother's. Whether or not that was Finn’s intention didn’t matter. That's how it felt.

He was angry with Finn for causing everyone's lives to completely crumble.

He was angry with Finn for leaving Matt with an unspeakable mess that he was incapable of cleaning up. And for leaving him alone with a crazy family that didn’t have the ability to love him.

“He has a right to his life, Matt.”

The irony of Julie's words hit him hard. “Believe me, I know he does.”

“Do you two usually get along?”

This was a difficult question to answer. “We used to. And then…we didn't.” Yes, he and Finn were best friends, but even best friendships carry their own set of troubles. Finn's all-around skill and success combined with his modesty made their relationship inherently uneven. Matt knew that he would never be as perfect as Finn, and the way that Finn stepped in to care for Celeste after their mother's severe depression surfaced was more than Matt was able to do. Finn was better. At everything. With everybody. “Mostly because of the issues with my mother. He was always the hero. That wasn't easy for me, I guess.”

“Celeste thinks you're a hero. Don't you see how she looks at you? She adores you.”

“Not the way she adores Finn. It's different. I do the boring stuff. I get her to school, feed her, help her with homework, worry about her. I'm no Finn, that's for sure. He's never given a crap about real life. He cares about fun and horsing around. When my mother was away—that's what we call it, away—Finn entertained Celeste, got her laughing, made her wild and free like him. I took care of what needed to be done, and he got all the credit. That's how it's always been.” Finn always got the glory, Matt thought. He was showy and theatrical and wonderful. Matt was good at organization and logistics, neither of which fostered admiration from a little girl. Or maybe anyone.

“You don't sound as though you like Finn all that much.”

“On the contrary. He's incredible. He's vivacious and relaxed and unrestrained. Finn gets to do everything I don't, and I envy him.” Even after death, Finn's online persona was certainly having a much better time than Matt was.

“So Celeste used to be more like Finn?” Julie asked.

“She did,” Matt said softly. It hurt, remembering Celeste when she was spirited and nearly irrepressible in wonderful ways. Matt wasn't able to save that part of her.

“I think she's doing better, don't you? A little bit? She pitched a fit because I couldn't find the second season of Glee the other day. I think that's a good sign.”

“What is Glee?” Matt didn't understand half of Julie's references.

“Don't worry about it. It's a good thing. And she's asking for trendy clothes for Christmas and wants me to take her shopping too.”

“So she's becoming devoid of individuality? Exactly what I hoped for.”

“Shut up. These are good things. Flat Finn is getting another round of hinges in a few weeks. Celeste gave me the go-ahead. Matty, don't you see how much she needs to fit in and needs friends? Can you imagine how desperately lonely she must be?”

“I can.” Matt sighed. Julie could give Celeste what he couldn't. He knew nothing about this kind of stuff. “You're probably better for her than I am.”

“But you do really important stuff. She needs someone like you to take care of her. Your mother is…having a hard time too, I think.”

Matt nodded. Julie was starting to understand too much about this household. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it would bring them all closer to the truth. And maybe it would destroy them all. “I know. She is having a horrible time. Both my parents are. Why do you think she and my father are out of the house so much? They can't stand to be here.” Damn it. He could feel his eyes welling up and hoped that Julie couldn't see. The way she could get to him like no one else could was both hated and much needed. Matt ran his hands through his hair. “Julie, I'm tired. I don't want to be Celeste's parent. I can't.”

There. He had done it. Confessed one of the most painful truths of the aftermath. He was ashamed at how much he resented the role he had been forced to take on.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes.

Although he couldn't take much more of this conversation, he did sense something: Julie had just healed a little piece of his pain. The way she could gently access parts of him that he’d pushed away for so long stunned him.