Chapter 23
Morgan
When I wake up from my drama-coma, I see Elizabeth sitting on the floor in front of me, watching the television. How long has she been there?
She turns when I clear my throat.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I don’t know how to explain it. She knows Brian Davies is an ass. She’ll also know that this isn’t really about Brian Davies.
“I assume you’re wondering what caused my freak-out?”
“No.”
I sit up, confused.
“I talked to Nate,” she says, which explains why she’s not grilling me.
“Ugh. Did you call him?”
Elizabeth huffs. “Uh, no. He called the room phone three or four times and I finally answered. He was worried about you. You also have, like, a dozen text messages from him. He thought you were ignoring him.”
I digest that, wondering if I hadn’t fallen asleep if I would have taken the call.
“What did you tell him?”
She shrugs. “The truth.”
I push her shoulder. “Damnit, Elizabeth.”
“What? You want me to lie to him? Tell him it’s all hunky dory? He was there, remember?”
I wince, thinking of how I ran out of the gym, like some pansy that couldn’t take an insult. I’m horrified at how I handled it, that I couldn’t control myself and chose to hide my reaction.
I should have punched Brian in his big stupid mouth. Instead, Nate handled it. I don’t even know how to feel about him defending me like that.
“I guess I should text him back.”
“No need. He’s in Jen’s room.”
I shoot off the couch so fast, I get a head rush and stumble into the dresser. Elizabeth chuckles.
“In a hurry, Morgan?”
“Shut it.”
I walk across the hall and stand in the doorway. Nate’s sitting on the couch, talking quietly to Jen. They’re both smiling, enjoying their talk.
I don’t like it.
What do they have to smile about? I’d feel jealous if I didn’t know for a fact that Jen was head over heels in love with Scott Kalite, her new boyfriend.
Nate notices me first and stands. Surprisingly, without even a hint of reluctance, he comes to me and gives me a much-welcomed hug. I hug him back because I can’t resist.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yes, and I’d like for everyone to stop asking me that every day.”
Nate releases me and scowls. “So, that’s a no.”
He looks over his shoulder at Jen and says, “Thanks.”
Jen winks.
What’s that all about?
Nate grabs my hand and starts to lead me down the stairs to the side door. I follow, even though my brain is telling me to resist. I guess body and mind aren’t connected at the moment.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to feed you. It’s late afternoon and you haven’t had lunch.”
“Oh.”
He walks me to his car and doesn’t release my hand until he opens the passenger door for me. But he doesn’t reach for me again. Maybe he thought I’d bolt if he let go en route.
The car ride is silent. He takes me to a local diner. The menu perusal is silent. Neither of us open our mouths until the waitress takes our orders. Once she’s gone, I’m immediately under the Nate microscope.
I decide to ask the first questions.
“What happened after I left?”
“Daniels was royally pissed. He suspended the game and made Brian and I come to his office. He knows Brian’s a little shit. But he listened to both of us. We got off easy.”
“What’s your punishment?”
“It looks like our illustrious intramural basketball careers are over.”
Uh-oh. They got kicked out of intramurals? Davies deserved that and more, but I feel bad that Nate was punished for defending my honor.
“I’m sorry.”
Nate waives his hand, brushing off my apology. “Totally worth it, Morgan.”
“Yeah, I bet pushing Davies felt good. He’s such an asshole.”
“Actually, I was disappointed I didn’t get a good grip on him. And that he’s still breathing fine through his nose.”
I laugh. “I’m sure. I’m sorry you can’t play anymore.”
“It’s fine. I’m not that into basketball anyway. Brian, on the other hand? He was livid. I guess he’ll lose his reign over, what did you call it? Shit Mountain?”
I bite my lip. “Guess you haven’t heard that one, huh?”
“No. But please, keep throwing them out there.”
I start to blush. I know he likes how I speak. I just don’t get why he hasn’t heard any of these. I mean, he is from the South. Was he raised in the wilderness?
I have quite a few go-to comebacks. Usually they’re meant to entertain. This time, my words were brought forth in anger.
I still can’t get over how much hatred was inside of Davies when he spat those words at me. Shit, does Daniels know the specifics?
“Did you—did you tell Daniels what Brian said to me?”
“No. Just that the trash talking got out of hand and Davies directed some totally inappropriate comments at you, which is why you were so upset. Daniels was worried. I told him we were friends and I would check on you.”
My heart sinks. That’s why he came to check on me, because he told Daniels he would. Not because … stop it, Morgan. Don’t even go there.
“Oh. Well, you could have just told him I’m fine. This lunch is totally unnecessary to get that information out of me.”
Nate crosses his arms. He looks pissed.
“Morgan, I didn’t bring you here because of Daniels. I brought you here because I’m concerned about you.”
“Join the club.”
“That right there,” he says, pointing at me, “That’s my concern. Jen told me—”
“Uh-uh, nope. You do not get to syphon information from my friends. They’re my friends. And I’m handling things the best I can right now, okay? I’m not suicidal, I’m not skipping meals or drowning my sorrows in drugs and alcohol …”
White lies. I’m spewing them left and right. They don’t count. Probably.
“… and maybe I’m a royal bitch off and on, but that’s how I’m handling it. I think it’s pretty darn good, considering what a mess I’ve made. So, please, just don’t. Let’s sit here and have a normal lunch and then you can take me back. Please, Nate. Just … don’t. Okay?”
Nate scratches this face and I wait for him to figure out that I am not in a place where I can have a serious talk with him right now. I’m drained.
I need to get through Monday and Tuesday and then get my ass home for Thanksgiving. I can’t think any further than that.
“Alright, Monday. Alright.”
He hasn’t called me Monday in what feels like forever. I hate how much I’ve missed it.
Thankfully, he steers the conversation away from the sink hole I’m standing in. We talk about Thanksgiving traditions and my addiction to mashed potatoes.
He’s fond of sweet potatoes and yams. Together. I wonder how on earth he could eat something so disgusting.
Eventually, we come back to the topic of school and the upcoming trip. I’ve been so wrapped up in my self-induced hell, I almost forgot he was going.
“How are you getting to the airport?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Indianapolis is over a three-hour drive from home. I don’t want to park my car at the airport for that many weeks. I haven’t figured it out yet. How are you getting there?”
“I plan to drive. My uncle lives in Indy and said I could leave my car there.”
“Oh, good. Then you won’t have to pay out the ass for parking.”
I wonder what the other students are doing. I’m guessing some of them live close enough to get dropped off. Nate is even further away, having to drive up from Tennessee.
“I’ll pick you up on my way.”
I choke on my water and try like hell to regain my composure.
“Uh, I … um …”
No words. I can’t think of any. And he didn’t even ask. He told me. Like it’s no big deal. Is it a big deal? I do need a ride.
“Morgan, I pass right by the Planters Grove exit. There’s no sense in you wasting money on parking. Plus, I have a much longer drive than you do and it would be nice to have company.”
“Oh. Well, okay. Thank you, Nate.”
“You’re welcome. Also, since our flight leaves early afternoon, I was going to drive up on the 26th and stay the night with my uncle. He offered to take us to the airport the next day. Sound good?”
“Sleepover at Uncle Stevenson’s? Sounds great.”
I get a flash of Nate and I having a sleepover. In the same bed. I’m not sure if I should destroy the image in my head or hold on to it for dear life.
“Edwards, actually. He’s my mom’s brother. But you can call him Gavin.”
“You think Gavin is okay with me staying in his house?”
“He is.”
“How do you know? Shouldn’t you ask him first?”
“I already did. Don’t worry about it.”
I have no idea what’s going on right now. Why would Nate have already asked his uncle? I assume he did it a while back, when were still … whatever we were. He’s doing me a huge favor, so I let it go.
One giant cry-fest and one lunch with Nate has greatly affected my mood. I feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m going to be okay. So, of course, I accidentally knock over my water thirty seconds later. Thanks, karma. Ya whore.