Chapter 4

I feel something inside me tighten all at once, like a switch I didn’t even know I had just got flipped, and before I realize it I’m already moving forward, not thinking, not measuring, because there are things you just don’t see and walk away from.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap at Mateo.

My voice comes out louder than I expected, heavy, sharp, and for the first time all night, things aren’t going the way he planned.

He pulls away from the girl with complete calm, like this is nothing more than an awkward interruption, like what just happened isn’t enough to make any normal person panic.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhales, and looks at us.

“Seriously?” he says. “This is my room. Did I give you permission to come in?”

I stare at him, incredulous.

“Are you hearing yourself?”

The girl he was with has already stepped aside, uncomfortable, watching the scene like she’s reconsidering every decision she’s made in the last ten minutes.

Good for her.

Sofi takes a step forward, but it’s not steady, like every movement costs her something.

“What… what is this?” she asks, and her voice breaks halfway through.

Mateo looks at her, and the worst part isn’t what he’s doing, not even what just happened, the worst part is that there’s nothing in his expression, no guilt, no doubt, not even real discomfort, just that irritating calm of someone who doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he says, not even trying to sound convincing.

Sofi lets out a sound that isn’t quite a laugh, the kind you make when something hurts too much to process.

“Really?” she says. “Because it looks exactly like what I think it is.”

I step forward.

“You better start explaining.”

Mateo shoots me a quick look, clearly annoyed.

“Relax, hero,” he mutters. “This has nothing to do with you.”

That’s where I should’ve stopped.

I should’ve stepped back, let them deal with their own mess.

But then Sofi speaks again.

“We were seeing each other,” she says, and now her voice fully breaks. “What is this supposed to mean?”

Mateo tilts his head, like he actually has to think about it.

Like this is complicated.

“Seeing each other?” he repeats, then lets out a short laugh. “I never asked you to be my girlfriend… did I?”

I close my eyes for a second, because I’m seriously trying not to do something stupid.

I really am.

But of course…

Mateo Carter doesn’t help.

“Besides,” he adds with a shrug, “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal, you already knew what I’m like.”

And there it is.

That unnecessary comment.

That final push.

“Oh no,” I mutter. “You crossed the line.”

“Lucas…” Sofi starts.

Too late.

“No,” I say, pointing at him. “This guy needs someone to explain how the real world works.”

Mateo smiles, but now it’s dangerous.

“And that’s gonna be you?”

“Gladly.”

And then it happens.

I lunge at him without thinking, grab him by the shirt and slam him against the wall hard enough for the impact to echo through the room.

“You’re a fucking asshole!”

“Wow,” he says, not losing that smile, “someone’s sensitive today.”

Mistake.

Big mistake.

He hits me in the side and the air leaves my lungs for a second, but I don’t back off, I throw a punch straight to his jaw, feel the impact in my knuckles and the small satisfaction that comes with it.

Yeah.

Totally worth it.

Mateo recovers fast, too fast, shoves me back, and in less than two seconds this isn’t an argument anymore, it’s a real fight.

Everything turns into chaos, fists, shoves, blows that send us crashing into the wall, the bed, anything in the way, like the room is too small to contain all of it.

Someone yells something like “Hey, hey, hey!”, but no one steps in right away, probably because, honestly, this was inevitable and everyone knows it.

Mateo throws another punch, this time straight to my face, and I taste blood almost instantly, warm, sharp.

Great.

Just what I needed.

“That all you got?” I say, spitting to the side.

“Not even close,” he answers.

Of course not.

We collide again, harder this time, dragging a chair in the process, more people crowd into the room, someone tries to pull us apart, but neither of us is in the mood to listen.

Eventually, two or three guys manage to separate us, holding us back like we’re about to go at it again.

I’m breathing hard, chest rising and falling, knuckles burning, face throbbing.

Mateo doesn’t look much better.

Split lip, one eye already starting to swell… and he’s still smiling.

Idiot.

“Fucking psycho,” he spits. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you.”

I shrug off the hands holding me, ready to go again.

“Shut up.”

He wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, not taking his eyes off me.

“It’s not your business,” he adds. “It never was.”

That hits harder than any punch, because deep down I know he’s right, and still that doesn’t change anything, doesn’t make it easier to stay quiet or pretend none of this matters.

“I hate you,” I tell him, clear, direct, no filter. “So do me a favor and don’t ever let me see that stupid face again… or I’ll break it for you.”

Mateo tilts his head, like he’s considering something.

“Try me.”

I smile, but there’s nothing real about it.

“Anytime.”

And for a second it feels like neither of us is going to back down, like this could keep going until one of us actually drops, but then I remember why this started, I remember Sofi, and that changes everything, because this isn’t just about him anymore… not anymore.