After our first date, it didn't take long for Josh and I to become inseparable.
It surprised me how fast it happened. My past experiences with crushes involved months of pining after somebody, trying to work up the courage to strike up a conversation, and failing nine times out of ten. Not to mention hiding my disappointment when they showed an interest in somebody else. They always faded away before turning into anything real. It was an entirely new experience to tip the balance in the other direction, and to go about my day with the knowledge that somebody couldn't get enough of me.
He kept me on my toes, and that was part of his allure: a magnetic pull that kept me coming back for more. It was exhilarating to know there was so much of him to unravel; I felt like a child on Christmas morning, with all my unwrapped gifts splayed out around me. Though I told myself I was going to savor each one, drawing out the process so it would last as long as possible, it was hard to hold back from going in head over heels.
Mistake number one.
There were a couple of dates, plus all the times we saw each other at the volunteer group. Josh couldn't keep altering the schedule to ensure we were paired together—for one thing, Cat was getting suspicious—but our paths crossed enough times by chance. The more time we spent together, the more time I wanted to spend together.
Thankfully, Josh seemed to feel the same way.
One night several weeks after our date on top of the parking lot, we were hanging out in my dorm room, as we now did at least a couple of times a week. I hadn't asked, but Hanna had taken the initiative to make herself scarce. It was definitely a trade-off for the gossip she thought she'd get in return.
Josh and I had taken the serious step of starting a Netflix series together, so a couple of episodes meant two hours already spent cozied up on my bed, all tangled limbs and racing hearts. Sitting side by side turned to lying down and then my head was resting on his chest. His hand traced light circles on my arm and I could feel his breath against my hair, and I would've stayed like that forever if it were possible.
By the time the second round of credits rolled, there'd been too much careful shifting and lingering touches for a third to be on the cards. Josh moved, and I raised my head, and our eyes connected with a jolt that ran the length of my spine.
"Hey," he said, his lip curling.
"Hey," I said back.
His next words came only after a drawn-out silence, crafted for maximum anticipation. The question made my heart skip a beat. "What are you waiting for?"
"I don't know," I replied.
So I kissed him.
I liked the way he did things: putting me in control, letting me make the bold move, a safety net hanging slack over the terrifying crater of rejection. It let me experience a kind of power that otherwise would have appeared only months down the line. It let me slip, for a moment, into the person I wanted to be, without all the work it would take to get there.
Still, I wasn't in the lead for long. After several slow, gentle seconds, he bent down to meet me more urgently, and a sudden spark sent the room up in flames. He was everywhere. Fingers raking through my hair, fire against my lips, skin radiating heat in an already warm room...
But we didn't get carried away.
It felt too early for that, and Josh didn't try to push me further. When we broke apart, it was entirely natural.
"You're dangerous," he said, as I settled back in with my head against his shoulder.
"In what way?"
"In the way that I could spend hours here with you, like this, and forget that I actually have other, much less interesting things to do. Like tackling my zillion assignments. Showing up to class. Carrying out basic human functions, like eating and showering."
I quirked an eyebrow. "I make you not want to shower? Not sure that's a compliment."
He laughed, and my head juddered with the movement of his chest. "You're right, that's gross. But you know what I mean. You're... distracting."
"I can be less distracting," I told him. "But I don't think you'd be happy about it."
"No." His voice had turned low and breathy. "I wouldn't."
He moved to kiss me again; I saw it coming, and my body moved before my mind caught up. I closed my eyes and leaned in to meet him halfway. But our lips never met. When I opened my eyes again, confused, I realized his gaze had caught somewhere behind me.
"Hey, what's this?"
He reached over to grab something from under one of the cushions. I realized what it was a beat too late.
"This is cute." He turned the golden-brown stuffed bear over in his hands, fingering the sleeve of its miniature T-shirt. "Okay, but what's with this? University of Florida? This is treason, Morgan. Are you telling me you're not one hundred percent in the Davidson spirit?"
He was kidding, and it was silly, but I felt a pang of sadness seeing it in his hands. Seeing it at all, really; there was a reason I kept it buried underneath my other pillows. I plucked it from his grip.
"It was a gift," I said quietly, smoothing out the fur. "From my brother, Caleb. He's not around anymore."
Right away, Josh's expression changed. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," I said, shaking my head. I didn't want him to feel bad for asking, because it was something he should know, at least now if not earlier. The longer I waited to explain, the more painful it would be. "He went to UoF. Three years ago now. He would've been a senior."
Josh kept his eyes fixed on me. "What was he like?"
I took a deep breath. Where did I even begin? It'd been hard enough to capture Caleb in words when he was around to fill in the gaps. Now it seemed impossible. "He was... loud," I said. "Out-of-this-world extroverted. The most popular guy in school. But also kind. And caring. Everybody's best friend."
I kept my gaze on the bear, stroking the fur. It was easier to look there than anywhere else.
"He was the only one in our family who ventured out of Massachusetts for college. Not that it came as a surprise. The party scene at Davidson would never have been enough for him." I smiled sadly. "Florida couldn't have been more of a perfect fit. He packed his life into a cabin-sized suitcase and set off on the flight like he'd been waiting forever. Ready for the sun, the partying, the new people. We knew we'd have trouble getting him to come home once he got a taste of it... but we didn't expect him to never come home at all."
Josh didn't move. "What happened?"
I paused. Took another breath. An effort to compose myself that barely scratched the surface. It suddenly seemed like a lifetime ago that the two of us had been sharing a passionate kiss on the same bed. Before, it had been fiery contact and wandering hands; now, Josh was looking at me like I was a china doll. Fragile. Breakable. To be handled with care.
In some ways, he wasn't wrong.
"Alcohol poisoning," I said. "During a fraternity hazing."
"God. I'm sorry."
I shook my head. "It's not your fault."
"It's not, but..." Concerned eyes searched my face. "It's awful. I know these hazings go on, and I know they're crazy and stupid and irresponsible, but for it to come to that... I can't imagine how that must feel."
"I don't know. For a long time after it happened, I didn't really feel anything. I was just... numb. What made it worse was that we never really found out what happened. The university started an investigation, but the frat obviously made some kind of pact to stay quiet. They all denied seeing or knowing anything. They got shut down in the end, which I guess was something, but... we still didn't get the answers we were looking for."
Anger flared on Josh's face. "What little shits."
"I don't know why Caleb wanted to be part of that, anyway," I said. "He never mentioned Greek life before he left. Something must have changed while he was away, but... I guess we'll never know."
Tears were forming in my eyes. I started blinking faster, not wanting Josh to notice. If he asked me if I was okay, the floodgates would open, and that wasn't where I wanted this evening to go. But it was also a sign that things were getting easier. Immediately after Caleb died, the mere mention of his name was all it took to set me off. Here, I was still managing to breathe.
Nothing had ever rocked my family so violently. It was the first and only time our unbreakable unit had seemed capable of shattering. When I would get woken up by a noise in the middle of the night and find Mom sobbing at the kitchen table. When Vanessa stopped living in her apartment at Davidson and made the hour-long trip twice a day so she could come home at night. When I would catch Dad sitting alone and staring into space, eyes glazed over like he was a million miles away.
At its worst, it felt like we'd tumbled into the pitch-black abyss Caleb's absence had created. I assumed permanent heartbreak was our new normal. Because how could we get over it? What kind of people would it make us if we could move on from Caleb's death? If we could reconstruct a sense of normality in a world where someone so full of life could just... cease to exist?
But that was what happened, eventually.
Day by day, we learned to live with the empty bedroom, the spare dining chair, the silent user in our family group chat. Perhaps it didn't become normal, but it was definitely close.
"Morgan."
I finally looked up, meeting Josh's gaze.
"You're so strong," he said quietly. "You know that, right?"
"It doesn't feel like it."
"But you are," he insisted. "You've been walking around with this on your shoulders for, what? Three years now. Learning how to live and cope with something most people don't even have to imagine. I can't imagine. Yeah, I've got the whole foster-family sob story, but I've never known anything different. It's not like this."
I thought he was just trying to make me feel better. He couldn't seriously think I had my shit together—not after the way we met. But there was no trace of insincerity in his face. He meant it.
And it was exactly what I needed to hear.
"Thank you."
"For what?" he asked. "I'm just telling the truth."
"Still. Thank you for saying it."
"You're welcome."
The conversation tailed off, but it wasn't over; I could see the unspoken words in the lines of his expression.
"I want to ask you something," he said.
I held eye contact. "Okay."
There was a pause. He licked his lips nervously, like he wanted the best possible chance of getting the words out smooth.
"These last few weeks have been amazing," he said. "Hanging out with you. And I probably haven't let on how excited I am about it, really. I mean, you'd cringe so hard if you knew how many shirts I've tried on before seeing you, how long I've spent picking out cologne, or... how many times I've rehearsed in my head what I'm about to say."
I felt the smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "Really?"
"You look surprised," he observed. "Which is a good thing, because it means I've been hiding it well. But it's true. You make me nervous... in a really good way."
Now I was really done for. It took all my effort to retain a semblance of sanity, keep looking at him, act like this was the kind of thing I'd been told before, in real life, and not just my wildest dreams. If I kept it together, he would never know.
"I'll just come out with it. I really like spending time with you, and if you feel the same way, I'd like to do it a lot more. So..." He took a deep breath. "What would you say if I asked you to be my girlfriend?"
My heart skipped a beat, my stomach clenched. I thought I had no hope of getting any words out, until I nodded, and the answer came tumbling out of me.
"I'd say yes."
Then, in the space of a few seconds, our lips collided again—only this time it was messier and clumsier and our heads weren't at the right angles but it didn't matter, because it felt nice and it felt right and there wasn't a single part of my mind wondering if I'd made the right decision. For once, I was entirely sure of myself.
In some way, I guess I thought it was a reward. No longer did I think the universe had made some kind of mistake that could be revoked at any time; now, I was thinking maybe this was repayment for my patience. How long had I stood on the sidelines and watched Hanna experience all these milestones? First love, first heartbreak, and the rollercoaster of emotions in between. Finding herself. Taking leaps that scared her. Not looking back.
I know now I shouldn't have expected Josh to be all those things. It wasn't healthy to want to wrap up my entire adolescent experience in one person, and expect him to be everything I needed.
But that's the benefit of hindsight.
Back then, I never could have known.
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Here I am with another chapter! I know some of you were confused about the mention of Caleb a few chapters back, so I hope this one cleared things up. Does it explain some of Morgan's behaviour? Do you think it was the right time for her to open up about it to Josh? Let me know in the comments!
I'm tackling Camp NaNoWriMo right now (albeit with a reduced goal of 25,000 words), which means I'm making real progress on this story, and I'm EXCITED. Believe me, there's so much more to come.
As always, your comments do wonders for my motivation, so please take the time to leave one below (even if it's just an emoji!). It means a lot, and I make the effort to reply to every one.
Until next time...
- Leigh