Morgan paced, visibly annoyed, while I sat hugging my knees on her bedroom floor.
I wasn't sure whether Kye had seen Morgan kiss my cheek, but I was already formulating excuse after excuse as to why she did it. Anything but the truth, anything but the truth.
I'd be as good as dead as soon as my father found out. And my mother... Well, I didn't know how she'd react. But nobody had tried to contact me yet, and it had been over three hours since I should have been home, so I could only hope that Kye had told his own lie as to why I wasn't in.
That would've been like him. If he did lie for me, he'd have something to use against me. He wouldn't be friendly about it, of course, but it was the best I could ask for.
I wondered how fast it would circulate. He'd only keep it to himself if he really wanted to hurt me. Kye was my family's publicity finder. Because of him, we were the third family most popularly covered by the news.
"Tammie, say something," Morgan stopped pacing and knelt in front of me. "Please. You know I was only trying to protect you, don't you?"
"It's not that," I muttered.
"Then what?" She asked softly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.
"I... It's just... It's not..." and then I burst into tears, unable to tell her how I felt about all this, and she cuddled me until I calmed down.
Later on, I acted cheery for her family while he had tea and watched TV, and Morgan did the same before excusing us both.
We both avoided talking about the subject looming over us, and instead made conversation about things that didn't matter. Morgan produced a photo album from her wardrobe, and it was full of pictures that we'd taken of each other when we were younger.
It brought back wonderful memories, and we ended up laughing after a while.
"Hey, look," I grinned. "It's the origin of my fringe."
Morgan giggled. "I didn't mean to cut your hair off! And besides, you put paint all over my face." She flipped the page. "Oh my gosh, this was when I convinced you to cut up that dress."
"Yeah, I got in trouble for that," I accused her jokingly.
"It was a horrible dress though."
"Agreed." I said, scanning the page. "Oh, hey, this was where we fell out after I cut off your plait."
"It's my trademark hairstyle!" She laughed.
"We were playing hairdressers!" I pointed out, grinning. "It was my first time with scissors."
"Yeah, and it was your last until you were nine," she said, and we burst into hysterics.
There was a moment of silence when we calmed down, and I looked at her, and she was so, so beautiful.
On impulse, I kissed her.