Disclaimer: The following is a prequel to Choices The Freshman and The Sophomore stories. It is a fictional adaptation. I do not work for Pixelberry Studios, the game developer or own the rights to the characters Chris Powell, Jo, Kyle or Nicole. All of the characters, story line and events were originally developed by me, some areas in part with @maxattack-powell, in conjuction to her adaptation of The Freshman.
Chapter 7: Ruin the Friendship
Chris cuts the motor on the small boat and lets the water below gently move the tiny vessel ever so slowly in the waves. The motor leaves a ripple of white foam behind him, but for the most part, the harbor is unusually still for this time of year. October in Maine is a peak season for lobster fishing. There are just a few other boats scattered out on the water today.
Chris adjusts his rubber gloves and stands up with ease in the boat. He’s been doing this for years and the fear of tipping over and making a splash of things faded long ago. In his rubber boots and overalls, he is wearing his favorite Cherryfield hoodie underneath to shield him from the chill in the air. He has found wearing a coat while working is too cumbersome. He reaches for the gaff and peers over the side of the boat and down into the water.
Since he was 15, Chris has worked on weekends during the school year at the Lobster Shack. His hours are not as long during football season, but every dollar he earns helps out at home. During the summer months, he spends most of his days out on the water retrieving crates or in the restaurant or busing tables and waiting on customers. Occasionally in the fall, he works a few evening shifts inside of the restaurant as well.
It’s Saturday morning and the sun is casting a golden hue on his surroundings as the day progresses. It is cool outside, but nothing out of the norm for this time of year. He glances around at the dense pine trees that surround the wharf and the small weather- beaten houses that dot the shoreline. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the clean, salty air and then lowers the gaff into the water.
He is alone but does not feel the slightest bit lonely at the moment. It’s a refreshing change from what he has felt most of the week. He is out of the house and getting some fresh air and much needed movement. His body craves movement. He is an athlete after all and part of his passion for his sport is reflected in the conditioning and care he gives his body. He will be at school early on Monday with Ethan to lift weights. If it weren’t for lifting almost a hundred crates over the course of the day and again tomorrow, he would be at the gym tonight.
It also gives him time to think. Hauling the crates in and taking them back and forth to the Lobster Shack dock is pretty mundane for him after all this time. So he and his thoughts have an opportunity to spend some time together. Thoughts that do not have Nicole at the epicenter as they typically do lately.
He had trouble sleeping again last night.
The nightmares typically come in bouts. He had not experienced reoccurring episodes since an incident where he found himself in deep trouble as a freshman. Since Thursday, he had experienced one every night. This week it seemed to be variations of one dream. He is in a black space, with just one tiny light illuminating his way. His feet are bare and he feels cold every time in the dream. It’s like he can feel it in his core even when he is asleep, tucked under the covers, the cold still seizes him. In the dream, he calls out for his mother, his brother, his sister, anyone, but there is no response. As he turns all around feeling despair, a figure is seen in the distance. He calls after the person, never able to see their face or anything to indicate if the person is male or female. It’s just someone and at that moment he is grateful for anyone to be there for him. He begins to run after them as they move further away from him. The floor underneath him transforms from cold, bare tile to wet, thick sand. As he tries to move towards the figure in the distance, his feet begin to sink more. He struggles to take a few more steps and the ground changes again and it is glue. His feet stick and as he lifts them, strands of thick glue hang from the soles, impeding his steps further. The figure is gone and Chris is left alone. He cries out for help.
He shook himself awake as he yelled out in his dream last night. He looked around his room and remembered the steps his mother took to calm him when he was haunted at night by his dreams as a child. He pulled the covers around himself and took slow deep breaths, counting up to six as he inhaled, and counting out for 10 as he exhaled.
He had gotten better about handling the dreams but the fact that they were back worries him.
His thoughts drift back and forth, from the game last night to the upcoming playoff picture. His ultimate dream has always been to lead Cherryfield to the state championship. Now they will have one last opportunity for him to achieve that dream as a senior. He vows to make up for his behavior last week to coach. He will be in the weight room early and stay after practice late to do more cardio. He will prove to Coach Madison that he is still the leader he can trust.
He thinks about the victory last night and how it felt like slow torture to not be out on the field with his friends. He watched Ryan and Ethan celebrate on the field and it felt out of body to not be a part of that celebration. Again, he vows to do better.
He uses the gaff to pull up one of the crates from the water. It is full of lobster in their deep maroon hues climbing all over each other. This will be a good haul, he can tell based on just this one crate. He bends down and hoists it into the boat, water splashing all over his rubber overalls and boots. The hard shells of the lobsters and their pinchers make slight knocking noises as they clamber inside the crate.
His mind wanders from the game last night to the after party. He exhales slowly as he removes the gaff from the crate and lowers it back down. As he fishes for another crate, he thinks of Morgan. He gulps and sighs out loud. He continues his work as he recalls their conversation on Ryan’s back porch.
Morgan had always been the tag along. She wasn’t just Nicole’s plus one, no, that had been Chris. Morgan was Nicole’s plus two. She was often, uncomfortably the third wheel on outings with Chris and Nikki. When he began dating Nicole, he took on her friendships as his friendships as well. Morgan never said much when he was around, probably in large part because Nicole’s tongue seemed to always be in Chris’s mouth.
He frowned as he recalled the affection between them. They had been a couple heavy on PDA. He wondered if Nicole just used him for physical gratification as well, since he seemed to be just a place holder in her love life before college.
It must have been awkward for Morgan he thinks, having to sit with them as they kissed and pawed at one another. No wonder she was so quiet most of the time. Nicole was always telling him how funny and outspoken Morgan could be when she needed to, but he had never seen it.
Not until last night.
He thinks about her smooth olive skin, her grey eyes, her plump lips and the tumble of light brown hair that hangs low on her. He had always only had eyes for Nicole but had acknowledged that Morgan was pretty. Nicole continuously questioned him about what he thought of Morgan’s looks, almost obsessively so. All he had seen was Nicole, she was the star in his universe and anything else did not sparkle. He had heard guys on the team, including Ryan, talk about how pretty Morgan was, but again, all he saw was his Nikki.
As he pulls up another crate, he realizes his assessment of Morgan was lacking. He had not really seen her, not really looked at her, not really taken in those details about her that made her unique. Morgan wasn’t just pretty, she was stunning. How had he not truly seen that before? They went to elementary school together and of course middle school, but he paid little attention to girls back then. Morgan’s family was also well-off. They weren’t rich by most of society’s standards, but in little Cherryfield, where most households were making it pay check to pay check, Morgan’s family was seen as wealthy. Her doctor father ran a family practice and took care of most of her classmates and their families. Her two-story home was large and brick and she drove a new Mustang. Morgan’s economic status was off-putting to some of the other kids. From everything Chris could remember about her, she had never once flaunted it. She was down to earth and anyone willing to get close to her would easily see that.
When she laughed at him last night, teasing him a bit, her grey eyes seemed to shimmer, even in the darkness of the night. She had been funny, calling him out on his treatment of her.
At this he pauses. Morgan had stopped by the house to see him, and when he was on the verge of breaking down, her thin arms had wrapped around him, gripping him tight as she tried to comfort him. He had snapped at her in class the other day. Last night, she had not mentioned Nicole once. He had yet to ask her about their falling out. Ryan and Ethan had both mentioned it but Morgan had yet to speak about the demise of her friendship.
Chris stacks the second lobster crate on top of the first one to make room for others as he keeps about his work. His hair begins to toss around as the wind begins to blow, water running off his gloves and overalls. The gaff returns to the salty water below the boat as he looks down to hook another crate.
He had kissed her. It was not in his plan to do so. If he had gone to the party and then left when he wanted to then he would not have been around when she stormed out onto the back porch.
He thinks about the look in her eyes, the stunned response when he first swept his lips over hers. She didn’t know what he was doing. Hell, he didn’t know what he was doing. He had felt happy, truly happy, for the first time in days sitting with her talking. He needed to continue to feel that way. The only way he knew how to express his feelings was through affection. He was lonely and hurting and there she was: beautiful, friendly and vulnerable sitting there alone with him. He was craving a comforting touch. But did he need Morgan or just someone then?
She was there in that moment of time when his mind was still struggling with pain and the aching desire to be over it. So, he had kissed her.
He hadn’t given much thought as to what he felt in that moment. He remembered her lips were soft but different. Different from Nicole who owned the lips that had been his constant source of fire and consumption over the last three years.
But he had kissed Morgan again. The first time had been so tender, he needed more. The look in her eyes he remembers vividly. He thinks about those grey eyes, at the moment they are haunting. She had silently pleaded for more and he, needing to feel more, had obliged. Why had she looked back at him that way? At first she was like a doe caught in the lights of an oncoming diesel. Then suddenly, she stared back at him with a look he knew was nothing but pure lust.
So he had kissed her again, this time deepening it. It felt good, he could admit that to himself. He liked the feeling of her tongue against his, her lips smacking with his. But, Chris is honest with himself. In that given moment, it could have been any girl and it would have felt good to him. Human contact was what he was craving, anything to make his pulse rise and snap him from the depression he had been feeling.
The problem he now saw was that it had not been just anyone, it was Morgan.
When he had realized what he was doing last night, he felt so angry with himself. The rage that coursed through him then was for latching on to someone else just days after the love of his life had broken his heart. He was not looking for something real with someone else any time soon.
He freezes his movements in the boat and licks his lips, exhaling as he slowly closes his eyes. His head tilts back and he looks up at the sky overhead.
Yes, his anger. He doesn’t remember everything he said but now he can see those grey eyes again. They were sad and he also saw a familiar expression in them. The same expression he had seen in the mirror in the aftermath of his breakup: hurt.
The things he said, the way he stormed off, what must Morgan be thinking right now? She has been a friend to him. She now sits at their lunch table. She has tried to offer up support to him countless times. Come Monday, he would have to face her at school. How could he? What would he say? “It’s not you, it’s me” sounds like such a cliché. “I just needed someone” was not too much better.
He lets out a slow breath as he realizes he has to apologize.
***
Morgan sits on her bed still in her pajamas when she flips to the first blank page in her journal. She places it against her thighs as she pulls her knees up and clicks the pen lowering the point.
It is just after 2 in the afternoon. She slept late, really late. She had pulled the covers up around her head and tried to shut out as much daylight as she could. Her mother had called her down for breakfast hours ago but she didn’t respond. Since then, lunchtime had passed as well. Her parents didn’t badger her, thinking she was just exhausted from the game and party last night. It’s been several weeks of practice, road games and performances, and as a senior, they have given their well-behaved daughter a little more space and less rules. She’s never given them trouble.
Trouble has come into Morgan’s life in a different form however.
She pauses for just a moment before writing the day’s date at the top of the page.
It finally happened. Chris kissed me. And now, I want to hate him for it.
Everything is all wrong and messed up.
It started when I decided that maybe I should give Ryan a chance. A leopard doesn’t change his spots though, right? I saw him with Maya and I’m pretty sure I know how the night ended for both of them. I know I’ve given him the cold shoulder for years but I waited for him last night. I waited to tell him that maybe we could start talking. We could spend a little time getting to know each other and hang out, just us, sometime soon.
Even if he does like me, it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t think I could ever trust someone like him.
You know who I did think I could trust? Chris. Turns out I was wrong about him, too. I know he’s hurting but I can’t keep doing this anymore. Ethan told me that I could get hurt and well, he’s right. I guess deep down I didn’t believe Chris was capable of hurting someone. I feel like shit. I left the party last night and cried the whole time I was driving home and then in the shower.
I waited so long for something so special. It was a dream come true and then, he was yelling at me. I don’t even know what I did. He kissed me and I kissed him back but somehow, that was my fault.
The worst part, he told me stay away from him.
How does he not know? After everything, how does he not know how I feel about him? He has no idea what I would be willing to do for him. With him.
I love Chris, I really do. I’ve known that for a long time. My feelings for him go beyond just being a friend or being attracted to him. I have loved him for as long as I can remember. I thought the other night that part of me was willing to let him go, to give Ryan a chance, to have a relationship finally. It feels like a cruel joke. I make up my mind to start moving on and then he kissed me. Now, I don’t know if we will ever even speak to each other again.
I didn’t just want to date a guy like Chris, I wanted Chris. Maybe that made me a crappy friend to Nicole but that’s the truth. For 15 seconds last night, it felt like he was finally mine. He kissed me so softly at first, I thought I was dreaming. Then he took things deeper and I felt like I would float away. The taste of him was even better than I imagined it would be. His lips felt so perfect against mine. It was Chris.
Then, it was like I got kissed by Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I know he is hurting, but I can’t stick around and be the whipping post anymore. He is working through things and I need to let him have his space to do that. I can’t be the reason he starts to get better. He let me know last night, there’s no chance that I ever would be anyways.
The house phone rings and Morgan looks at the buzzing device in her room but decides to let her mom get it. It rings five more times before it finally ceases. She looks back down at the page and continues to write.
I don’t think I can see him again. I know I’m going to have to at school but the thought of that right now is just too much. I see why he avoided coming to school and seeing Nicole now. I get it. Maybe I will do the same on Monday.
I just need a little time and space away from all of this and all of them at school. It would give me some time to clear my head.
I don’t know what the rest of the year holds for me, but I can only pray and hope that it will be better.
M
Morgan clicks her pen and a second later there is a knock at the door. It opens slightly and her mother peaks around it.
“Hey!” She greets with a big smile.
“Hi….” Morgan responds. She closes her journal and puts it on the side of her, away from her mother’s view. She runs her fingers through her bed head of hair.
“You feeling okay? You slept in kind of late today?” Her mother says stepping into her room. Behind her, her 9-year-old brother Micah appears.
“I’m fine, what’s up?” Morgan asks looking at them both.
“Kyle Powell just called. Said his mother OK’ed it for Micah to sleepover tonight,” her mother begins. Morgan’s jaw clinches. “Your dad and I were going out to dinner tonight. I need you to drive him over to the Powell’s this evening at 5, okay?”
***
Morgan’s grip on the steering wheel has tightened as she moves down the highway and closer to her destination. Her brother Micah, strapped in to the passenger seat, fiddles with the radio.
After her mother’s request, Morgan grabbed her pillow and buried her face in it letting out a deep groan. Now they were headed to Chris’s home. She was praying that he would not be home.
“Micah, would you see if Mrs. Powell will bring you home tomorrow?” Morgan asks, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Why can’t you come pick me up?” He frowns.
“I’ve…got some stuff to do…just ask, okay?” Morgan instructs.
Micah nods. The Powell home comes into view and Morgan slows the car. As she does, she notices a figure moving from beside the red jeep parked under the awning. She takes a deep breath and pulls up just ahead of the mailbox, putting the car in park.
Chris walks around the house towards the front door realizing the car that has stopped there is Morgan’s. He has changed clothes from his work gear and shoves his hands into his jean pockets. He wears a ball cap, sitting low on his head almost hiding his eyes.
Morgan refuses to look in his direction, only seeing his movements from her peripheral. He walks to the porch, keeping his eyes focused on the car. It’s getting dark outside and he can’t make out much from the interior of the car, but he knows Morgan is inside and waits. This might be his opportunity to talk to her.
She doesn’t cut the motor. “If she can’t let mom know,” Morgan tells her brother.
“Alright,” he grumbles. He looks out the window and the front door opens. “There’s Chris and Kyle!” he says happily. He opens the car door and grabs his backpack from the backseat. Micah begins to stand up when Morgan stops him.
“Hey,” she says. She turns around, her seat belt still on, and reaches down towards the floor of the car behind her seat. She feels for something blindly with her hand and then grips it, pulling it up.
“Would you give this to Chris?” she says to her brother handing him the letterman’s jacket.
“Sure,” Micah says without concern or question as to why she has it. He takes it from her grasp.
“Have fun,” Morgan nods at him.
He says nothing but closes the car door hard behind him as he bounds up the sidewalk. Kyle is standing on the porch and they excitedly begin talking about something Morgan cannot hear. Jo, Chris’s little sister walks outside and joins the conversation, all of them laughing.
Morgan adjusts her rear view mirror and without as much as a glance, drives away from Chris’s home.
Chris watches her car move down the road and shakes his head with a sigh. She clearly didn’t want to see or talk to him and he couldn’t fault her for that after the way he had behaved. He looks at the three children full of excitement and energy on his porch.
“Hey Micah,” he says to his brother’s friend. “Maybe tomorrow we can get out in the yard and throw the ball around some?”
Micah smiles brightly. Chris is something of an idol in their little community. He wants to be just like him when he is in high school and play quarterback for Cherryfield. An opportunity to learn the ropes from Chris means the world to him.
“Cool!” he grins. “Oh, almost forgot.” Micah lifts the jacket that he had tucked under his arm and hands it to Chris. Recognizing what it is, Chris slowly takes it from him.
“Morgan said to give this to you,” Micah says. Kyle beckons him inside.
Chris holds the jacket in his hands and stands at the edge of the porch. He cranes his neck as Morgan’s car disappears from sight. With one more exhale, he heads inside the house.
***
The following day, it is just before sunset when Chris’s jeep rolls to a stop in front of the Price’s home. Micah had asked Mrs. Powell for a ride home but Chris was available, having worked just the lunch shift at the Lobster Shack and volunteered to help. Besides, it would give him a much needed opportunity to see Micah’s elder sibling before school tomorrow.
“Thanks for the ride Chris. Thanks for showing me some of your secrets on throws too. Maybe I’ll be able to throw it as far as you can someday,” Micah smiles, unbuckling his seat belt.
“Man, you are going to throw it way farther than I ever could,” Chris encourages. He can see Micah’s face light up even brighter. Micah opens the jeep door but Chris interrupts his steps.
“Micah, would you…would you get your sister and tell her to come out here please? I need to talk to her….” Chris tries to keep the sound in his voice light so Micah doesn’t sense that anything is wrong.
“No problem, I’ll go get her! See you!” Micah hops out, closes the door and runs towards the house. He rings the door bell and his mother opens it a minute later, waving out at Chris. He lifts a hand and waves back but does not pull away.
He turns off his jeep and steps out, walking around the front of it. He leans against the passenger side door as he waits.
He studies the exterior of the nice home as he waits. From the second floor he can see movement at the window, the curtains shuffle and a form he can barely make out stands and looks out. The curtains swiftly are closed back and he waits for what seems like an eternity.
Finally, Morgan opens the front door and steps outside, closing the door behind her. She is wearing a sweater and jeans and her house shoes. She hugs her arms around herself as she heads down the steps and across the yard.
Chris uses his foot to push away from the car and takes a few steps towards her. She stops several feet away from him.
“What’s up?” She questions sharply. “I was told to stay away from you and then I hear I’ve been summoned to come see you.”
Chris looks at her arms folded across her chest, her back straight, her lips tight with restraint and her eyes narrowed at him. This is not shy, timid Morgan. This is someone else entirely. This someone seems to have had it.
“I didn’t mean what I said,” he begins. “That’s why I’m here. I wanted us to talk. I wanted to say…I’m sorry,” he licks his lips and frowns. He reaches up and scratches the back of his head before rubbing the back of his neck. He looks down at leaves covering their yard and then slowly back up to her.
Morgan can feel her resolve fading with every word he speaks and she becomes angry with herself for it. How does he have this kind of power of her? To make her weak in the knees at the very sight of him and the sound of his voice, his apologetic voice at the moment.
She shakes her head to shake the feeling away.
He stares at her, an uncomfortable silence between them. A dog barks in the distance and Chris focuses on that noise for a moment, just to ease the tension he feels between them.
“Morgan, I,” he begins slowly as he thinks about each word. “It’s not even been a week since Nicole and I broke up and when…” he hesitates, “when I kissed you the other night it was a lapse in judgment,” he says.
Her head jerks back and she lifts her eyebrows.
“Shit, that’s…that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. “This is coming out wrong. I mean, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’ve felt lonely and sad and then for a little while I was really happy and…I got caught up in that. But it’s just been a few days. I’m nowhere even close to having moved on from Nicole and I don’t want to date or see anyone right now,” he explains.
Morgan runs her fingers through her hair, one arm still hugged around her. “So you don’t even know why you kissed me?” she asks him.
Chris blinks and looks down, shaking his head no.
“How am I supposed to feel then?” she asks, the question a plea from her. At the tone in her voice he looks up and they make eye contact.
“Morgan, I—“
“You kissed me. I wasn’t flirting with you, I wasn’t coming on to you, I was just sitting and talking with you and you kissed me. Then you start shouting at me and blaming me for it,” Her frown is deep and pained. “So, how am I supposed to feel?”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, unable to answer her. He looks back at her, her expression conveying her disappointment and grief. He wishes he could go back in time and erase everything he did. “I wasn’t thinking clearly and the last thing I would want is to hurt you. I’m very sorry for getting upset and taking it out on you. You’re right, it wasn’t your fault.”
She looks back at her house as the front porch light begins to glow. The sky that was filled with orange and red is now a deep purple as night creeps closer. She looks back at Chris, her gaze not wavering from his.
“Was it just like…a rebound thing?” She questions with a shrug.
“No,” he shakes his head adamantly. “That wasn’t it either. It also wasn’t because you are Nicole’s best friend. I wouldn’t use somebody to get back at her if that has crossed your mind at all.”
“Was,” Morgan corrects.
“Huh?” he frowns again.
“Was Nicole’s best friend,” she explains.
He nods with understanding and they fall silent again for a while, both thinking of just what they want to say next.
“So now what?” she asks. There are a million other things she wants to say. She wants to tell him that his kiss meant everything to her and that maybe in time, they could see if there is something there. But she actually listens to his words this time, taking in the detail and realizes there’s more he still is sparing her from saying.
“I don’t want to get involved with anyone for a while. I can’t even imagine trying to have something, something real with someone else. That’s not anything against you. You are beautiful and kind and sweet,” he says.
She lets out a tiny, pained laugh and looks away from him. “But?”
“But, this isn’t the time for that. It may never be,” he says honestly. “I can’t imagine getting over what I feel right now. I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”
She looks down at her shoes and then slowly begins to nod.
“I appreciate your friendship, I do,” he says.
She looks at him this time and nods again. They stand quietly for a while, one peering back at the other, a million questions that will go unasked swirling around in their heads.
“I should get going, I just, I really wanted to apologize,” he repeats.
“Yeah….” She says not committing to forgiveness or resolution. This still hurts and she isn’t sure how to handle things moving forward.
“Friends?” he asks cautiously. He takes a few steps towards her. Morgan realizing he is coming closer, looks him in the eye. He is questioning her with his gaze. He stops and waits.
“Yeah…friends,” she says softly.
He lifts a hand and puts it on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before he turns to walk away.
She doesn’t wait for him to go. She turns and takes long steps quickly back to the house. As he grasps the handle of his jeep’s door, he pauses, letting his eyes follow her as she goes inside.
He knows he’s hurt her, but he knows it would only hurt her more if he tried to be something to her he was not ready to be: to anyone.
***
The trio has not seen Morgan through the course of the school day. They sit at the table that has now become their spot in the cafeteria for lunch with Alex, yet no sign still of Morgan.
Early that morning, Ethan had shown up to Chris’s house, ready to force him to school if need be, again. To his surprise, Chris opened the front door and hopped into his truck without resistance or hesitation. After their cursory greetings, Ethan glanced over at his friend as they sped down the road towards the high school.
“Good to see you got your jacket back,” Ethan said slowly.
The muscle’s in Chris’s neck tightened and he felt the blood drop from his face. His head swiveled slowly to look over at his red-headed friend.
Ethan did not lecture. He did not preach. He was not sure what exactly took place but he knew after Chris shouted for their departure on Friday, he got into his truck and was visibly shaken by something. He had mumbled a goodbye and gone into the house. They had only communicated over the weekend through brief texts with Ryan and Ethan decided to give it time before bringing it up.
Ethan could feel Chris eyeing him in silent awe as he drove, wondering how the hell Ethan knew something had happened.
“Just…be careful man,” Ethan advised.
Chris was about to protest, to defend himself against whatever perceived transgression Ethan might have thought he committed, but he knew better. He sighed and rubbed his neck. “Trying to….” was his only reply.
Now, with half the day gone and not so much as a sighting of Morgan, Ethan wonders if her lack of presence is due to Chris.
Ryan is the first to spot her. She walks out of the lunch line, tray in hand. She does not look around the lunch room or acknowledge their table. She keeps moving and heads out of the cafeteria and into the hallway.
“What the hell,” Ryan frowns. Ethan and Chris look up just in time to see her figure head out the door.
“Maybe she didn’t see us,” Ryan says and hops up. Chris and Ethan silently lock eyes and Chris closes his eyes slightly, a slight shaking of his head. Ethan says nothing but returns his attention to his food. Alex looks at them both and shrugs, devouring his hamburger.
“Morgan!” Ryan shouts as he exits through the double doors and sees her already on the other end of the hall.
She does not stop but keeps walking.
“Hey!” he frowns and begins to sprint after her. With his speed, it doesn’t take him long to catch her and he is at her side, frowning. He reaches up and touches her elbow but she pulls her arm away.
“What’s wrong?” He asks with deep concern. He doesn’t know what it is exactly but his fists clench. If someone has hurt her, he will kick their ass.
“I’m going to eat in the dance room,” she states bluntly.
“Why?” He scoffs. She looks at him and rolls her eyes turning to walk away. “Morgan! What? What is it? Did something happen?”
“Maybe I should ask you that question,” she replies with a glare.
“Um…okay, you’re mad at me I can tell but, I have no idea why….” His squints as he looks at her.
She shifts from one foot to the other and grips the edge of the tray. “I saw you with Maya,” she snaps.
His head goes back and his frown deepens. “Okay,” he shrugs slightly not grasping the impact of her statement.
“Ryan,” she exhales angrily. “I saw you with her!”
“I’m sorry?” he asks still not seeing the offense. “Morgan, I don’t understand. Why are you mad about me and her? You’ve never given me the time of day and now, suddenly because I was with Maya you are freaking out? What do you even care?” He asks trying to contain his temper.
She stares back at him and frowns. She gulps and shakes her head. “I care.” She says.
When he looks into her eyes, he sees her meaning. “Oh…Morgan…I…..”
“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter now,” she says in a hush.
“Look, just…let’s talk….I…” he licks his lips. “I can come with you and we can—“
She shakes her head no and he doesn’t finish the sentence.
Without another word she turns and heads towards the dance room.
Ryan watches her retreat and his shoulders drop. He lets out a groan as he runs his hands over his hair. He knew she was acting differently towards him on Friday. It felt at times like she was flirting. Then at the party….His blood runs cold. The party: he talked to her in the kitchen. He had asked her to wait and he never returned. He slowly turns and heads back to the cafeteria. As he returns to his seat, the others look at him expectantly.
“Where’s Morgan?” Chris asks cautiously.
Ryan doesn’t look at them. “I don’t think she will be joining us again anytime soon,” he says.
Chris feels his stomach drop. Ryan inhales and exhales slowly. Ethan looks back and forth between them both, wondering what lies ahead for them all.