Lusting For Elliot

:Part Three: Chapter Twenty-Four

Slowly, I nodded. Curiosity had been something that had halted so much and I was weary of it, but this was Morgan. I could trust Morgan. "What is it?" I asked, fully turning to him.

His stance was uncertain. He stared at everywhere else but me, scratching at his head. I wondered what would make him so uncertain. He glanced down at me, meeting my gaze. Something seemed to clear for him. "How are you with alcohol?"

It wasn't the question, I knew it, but Morgan had chosen not to speak what truly bothered him. Something made it seem as though it would have made me uncomfortable and it was out of relief that I grasped his hand. This was why I could trust Morgan.

Morgan smiled. "I don't drink," I said.

The meeting was a blast. His friends were more welcoming after a few more meets, I realised, except for Liam who chose to point out my status, every so often. It made me wonder what it was about me that truly bothered him.

Morgan and I hang out more often then. A time or two I forced Muriel out of our usual way and had him pick up Morgan and Felicia after school. We rushed into ice-cream parlours and game studios, running after excited dogs in the park, or playing video games at his place.

There were times of serious moments that made it seem deeper, but the light moments were more. My father approved of the situation, I realised. Slowly, that chapter was refilling with well aligned and scripted words, although slow, was moving along stably.

Ella was making an effort to seek the point of views of everyone's situation, other than pulling herself into the centre and expecting all to agree.

My birthday came and passed, and a weight settled heavier on my shoulders. It was what drove me to this place tonight, the night of my birthday. Already my final ID was on its way, the documents having been procured weeks ago in my grandmother's excitement to have me old enough. Of course I'd be a citizen of England.

But I could drive my own car now: kudos to that accomplishment, however small it could be seen as.

"Something's been nagging me," I said one time, staring up at the oddly decorated ceiling. It compromised of a mirage that wasn't one specific picture.

"Shoot," Morgan tossed a bean into the air and easily it landed in his mouth. I shook my head even as I smiled. Morgan grinned. "Hey, can't help talent."

"No, you can't," I said. "Liam, what's–"

Morgan grinned. "About time," he said, cutting over me. I sat up; ready for an answer I knew he'd give. That was Morgan: in the time we'd been getting around, he'd been nothing but honest and open. He reminded me of child sometimes.

He sat upright as well, stashing away the packet of jelly beans. "In a shorter version," he started. "Liam's had shit in his life: his mother ditched a while back, father's a douche bag and his sister was just diagnosed with cancer."

I gasped. The fact that Morgan could say it so easily was just as baffling as the details. "How did that happen?" I asked.

Morgan's brows furrowed as he watched me. It made me fidget. Morgan could be astounding sometimes especially when he took notice of things I'd plagued him not to be able to. "Leukaemia," he said. "She requires a marrow transplant; unfortunately she can't get it fast enough. Her dad's paying shit for her and Liam has to go to school and work to get the bills done."

I shook my head in disapproval. Fervour rose in me. "You're telling me a father had belied both his children, one of which doesn't have the health to survive, and he does not care if she lives?"

Morgan nodded, pressing into a firm line. "I guess so," he said.

I sighed. Clarity crushed around me at the newfound information. "He blames me," I said simply. Morgan went to speak but I spoke over him. "Don't even deny it. He sees me walking around with all the security, a body of money and everything he wishes for. I remind him of his reality."