Chapter 15
Morgan
“Earth to Morgan.”
I look over my shoulder at Elizabeth, who is holding my phone. My attention has been glued to my computer monitor as I try to finish up this essay for my seminar class.
“Sorry, E.
“No worries.” She points to my phone. “Thor texted you again.”
I blow out air, looking at it warily. I didn’t even hear it ping.
“I don’t know why he’s bothering. I told him I was back and that I had tons to do.”
Wowzas. Even I can hear the bitchiness in my tone.
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you’d like to know that your new boy toy was trying to reach you.”
“Sorry,” I huff, apologizing for the second time in less than a minute.
I don’t know why I’m so snippy. My insides have been a mess since I left the hospital this afternoon. I look over at the clock. Damn, it’s already 9:30. Where did the time go?
I unlock the screen and open my messages. I’ve missed two from Nate, one at 5 p.m. and the second at 6:30.
Nate: Glad you made it back safe and sound. Want to come over later?
Nate: Just checking to see if you’re okay?
I want to text back that I’m not okay, but I decide that would be a bad idea. I feel guilty for even giving him my phone number. Which is stupid of me.
I want texts from Nate. I want to continue whatever it is we’ve started. But I’m stuck. Is it okay for me to pursue this when I technically haven’t dumped Alex? I don’t think that’s my fault, but I am struggling with my morals right now.
Jen told me I have nothing to feel guilty about. I want to agree, but I can’t help my reaction. It’s rooted deep.
I must accept that I’m in a holding pattern for now. It will pass once I grow big enough balls to tell Alex. At this rate, they’ll have to be elephant-sized—not that I know how big an elephant’s testicles are. Would it be weird to Google that?
“Stop staring at it. Either text him back or put it away,” Elizabeth advises as she digs around in her backpack.
“I know, I know. I’m just having a day.”
“Or, we can make your day better by putting everything away and doing this instead,” she says, holding up a fifth of Dark Eyes Vodka in one hand and a bottle of cranberry juice in the other.
Wow. Her backpack is magic. Will it call and break-up with Alex for me?
“You sure do know the way to my heart, Chica.”
She’s a good friend, helping me nurture my alcoholic tendencies by drowning my sorrows in vodka. Or is that what bad friends do?
“It’s probably also the way inside your pants,” she says and I laugh.
“Elizabeth, you’re pretty and all, but I’m not going to make out with you.”
“Never say never, girl.”
I laugh again. Yes, this is just what I need. A distraction. It’s a poor substitute for my super hero, but it will have to suffice.
Two hours later, I realize that I haven’t eaten dinner and I’m shitfaced. It’s the perfect mixture of poor choices to get my feet moving across the street. I’m starving for some man meat.
***
Nate
I look at my watch. It’s almost midnight. I check my phone for the hundredth time, wondering why Morgan hasn’t texted me back.
I assume she’s trying to finish up her essay, but I had hoped she’d at least acknowledge my two messages.
We didn’t have much contact this week, with her being in Planters Grove. It brought about a dimness to my days, not seeing her. I didn’t like it.
She did reach out and let me know that Alex was going to lose his arm. I feel bad for the guy. Not bad enough to let go of Morgan, but I’m not made of stone.
I get the feeling she’s trying to avoid me. I have to assume, with the removal of his appendage, that she was unable to have a frank talk with him about their relationship. And I get it. I won’t push her on it. But I need to figure out how to help her through this.
I take another sip of my beer, only half listening to the conversation taking place in my room. We just finished up some games of Euchre. Now that my mind’s not focusing on cards, it’s obsessing about the little brown-eyed vixen that lives across the street.
I thought about knocking on her window, but realized she might need space to process. I’ll give her until tomorrow before I seek her out, assuming she still doesn’t return my text.
I pull out my phone to text her once more, to say goodnight, when I hear the familiar lilt of her voice coming from the hallway. It causes the neurons along my brain-gut axis to start going nuts. Will there ever be a time when she doesn’t give me such a primitive reaction?
Morgan appears in the doorway and flashes a big, goofy grin. You don’t have to be a genius to see that she’s been drinking. It’s cute.
“Hey, y’all!” she says to the group. Her usual subtle Southern drawl is especially twangy tonight. I think drinking brings out the Kentuckian in her.
“Hey, Morgan,” Penny responds. Nugget, one of our pledges, waves.
“Everybody out,” I command as I stand and put my beer on the coffee table.
“What? Why?” Nugget protests.
I glare at him. I’m not angry, I simply want to communicate through intimidation that his little ass needs to vacate my room immediately.
He looks over at Morgan, then back at me and shakes his head. Then he makes a huge mistake.
“Bros before hoes, Stevenson.”
I step towards him, ready to grab him by the shirt and toss him out the fucking window. No one will refer to Morgan as a ho in my presence, even as a joke. I hesitate when I hear her snort.
“Ah, Nugget,” she says, “God wasted a perfectly good asshole when he put teeth in your mouth.”
A fierce swell of laughter overtakes the room, from everyone but Nugget. I can’t help it. That might be the most superior affront I’ve ever heard. In fact, it may have just saved his little ass from a long drop to the ground.
“Oh, my god, Morgan. That was perfect,” Penny offers her a high-five and she almost misses. She’s good and drunk for sure.
“Well, I calls ‘em likes I sees ‘em.”
I inwardly cringe at her grammar. She never talks like this. I’ll have to make sure I don’t laugh at her for it. Morgan stumbles and I move to steady her, putting my arm around her waist.
I look at my friends and say, “Okay, now you guys can go.”
The boys file out, still laughing about my little visitor’s insult. There’s never been a dull moment with this one. I hug her and she wraps her arms around my midsection in return. My muscles relax. Finally, the dimness is gone.
“Hey, Monday,” I say, squeezing a little harder.
“Hi,” she mumbles into my chest.
We stay like this, neither making a move to pull out of the embrace. I’d hold her every day, if she’d let me. After a solid minute, I reach over to the door and swing it shut before moving us to the couch.
We sit side by side, legs touching. Morgan sighs and rests the back of her head against the couch. I can tell she’s stressed.
“Wanna talk about it?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“I was worried about you.” I grab her hand in mine and rest them both on my thigh.
“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t text back. I just … I needed to focus on my essay and kind of shut myself off for a while. Does that make sense?”
“Absolutely.”
She turns and looks at me. “I couldn’t do it, Nate. He kind of freaked out on me when I brought up our relationship. His blood pressure and heartrate went up. I couldn’t go through with it. Not like that.”
Morgan confirms my suspicions. I can’t tell if she’s upset in general or because she chickened out.
She did the right thing. I’m not thrilled about it, but I appreciate her compassion for others, even someone that’s not been especially good to her. It speaks volumes about her character.
“Don’t worry so much. You were trying to do the right thing and not make a bad situation worse. I’m sure it was difficult for everyone, especially Alex. But he’s not going to be in such a poor physical and mental state forever. Just give it time.”
“I feel like I’ve been giving it time. Years. Five long years. And now that I’m ready to give Alex his walking papers, I don’t feel like I can. I think it’s karma. This is my payback for being mean to Ray Sims in seventh grade. Or probably for swiping my Gram’s Peach Schnapps when I was eighteen. And nineteen. And twenty. It’s a problem.”
I smile at her assertion. Morgan must have a tremendous load of guilt on her shoulders to think she might have done something to deserve this. Silly girl.
“Listen to me. You didn’t do anything to bring about this situation.”
She gives me a look that screams Yeah, right.
“I’m serious. Trust me. I’m smart and I know things.”
Morgan snorts and bites her lip to hide her smile. “You should have that printed on a t-shirt.”
“Brilliant idea,” I agree.
We stare at one another. She looks at me like she’s seeking something. Unfortunately, I can’t give it to her.
I don’t think Morgan truly knows that what she wants and what she needs are two very different things. Luckily for her, I’m a step ahead. Though, she’d likely punch me if she could hear my thoughts.
I get up and grab my wallet and car keys.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Taking you to get something to eat and then making sure you get into Omega safely.”
Morgan wrinkles her nose.
“Let me help you tonight. Please,” I say as I hold out my hand to her.
“Oh, alright,” she begrudgingly agrees, placing her hand in mine.
I want to pull her body against me, but I know that’s not what she needs right now. I pray I have the strength to stay this course.