Morgan has trouble getting along with her mom. When it gets to bad for the night she makes the walk to the one person she can trust, her best friend Carter.
Once she locks herself into her bedroom for the night walk quietly on your tip toes to your window. Sit quietly on your windowsill and allow your shaky hands to unlock and open the creaky window. Lift up the heavy window as the white paint begins to crack off, once the window is open enough pop out the old screen.
Don’t look down while you climb across the roof, once you reach the lowest part of the brown rusty roof jump quickly and attempt to land on your feet.
Pull the sleeves of your favorite crew neck with the words Eastern Illinois written across the front hiding the fresh bruises planted all over your arms. As you walk towards his house run excuses through your head to feed to him so he doesn’t worry. Search through your satchel to find perfume to cover up the stale beer smell that is soaked into your clothes.
Five minutes into your walk down the dark side streets of your neighborhood you will see the light on in his bedroom, start walking faster.
Once you reach his one-story white ranch walk up to his bedroom window which is open and climb through. Whisper his name as you climb one leg through. His eyes will slowly start to open as he turns his body towards the window on his twin sized bed with rocket ship sheets. Only adds to his charm, you will think to yourself.
Once he realizes you’re here he will sit up with a worried face; make sure your sleeves have not moved up, otherwise your due for an explanation. He’ll whisper your name with a raspy voice followed with a questioning of the time.
“2:15,” you reply with a remorseful look.
“Is everything okay, what happened, was she drinking?” he throws all of this out in one breathe.
“Its fine, I just didn’t want to be alone tonight,” you’ll try to assure him. But the way your face looks in the dim light does not convince him.
“Let me see your arms,” he insists as he grabs your hands delicately, the opposite of the way she touches you.
Try and resist, put up a fight or try to distract him with a smile only you know is faked.
When none of that works surrender to him rolling up your worn out sleeves. Try not to flinch when he comes near, he is not like her, and he won’t hurt you. Look away so that you don’t see the sorrow filled look on his face.
“Oh my god,” he’ll whisper not realizing the words where said aloud.
“I’m fine, it was just a bad day. Really I am fine,” you’ll try defending her but as soon as the words come out, so do the tears. He’ll pull you close to him until your head is buried in his shoulder. As your tears make you tired, he’ll soothe you to sleep with words of comfort.
Tomorrow you’ll have to face your mom, but for now you are in the safe haven.
You fall fast asleep because you’re in his perfectly defined arms. His mom walks quietly up the stairs and hears the whispering of the words in your ear. Her face draws with sorrow because she realizes that this is the sixth time this month you’ve climbed through his window and why you’ve been coming. She continues down the hallway into her own room, and it takes her just a little bit longer to fall asleep tonight. How could someone do something like that to her own daughter? The thought keeps her up every time you come over.
His mother picks up the details about you from her son who is constantly dropping your name in conversation. Sometimes it’s about your mother, other times he recalls the little things like when you smiled at his joke in English class. She knows your favorite song that you put on in his car everyday because of his complaints about how annoying Taylor Swift’s songs are when he gets home. She knows that he drives you home from school every day, except for Wednesday’s when you have dances practice and; therefore, you walk the mile home to your tiny yellow house with the bright red door even though he offers to come back. The two of you are in that can’t eat, can’t sleep, reach for the stars, over the fence kind of love. Except you’re too fragile to let anything happen between you, so you ignore those tingling feelings you get whenever he’s around. You call him yourbest friend, and nothing more.
You awake to the smell of pancakes and bacon. You hear his mom’s voice call his name yelling to him that, “breakfast is ready”. Slowly his eyes open, as you pretend you are still sleeping because you just need to steal a few more moments before having to climb out the window and face the walk home. He sends tingles through your whole body as he whispers in your ear that he will be right back. Your heart will cringe because he is no longer holding you, but the feeling only lasts for a moment because unlike your mom, you can trust him.
He throws on a t-shirt right as you slowly open your eyes for a peak at his defined tan body, within seconds he is on his way to the kitchen.
“Hey mom, good morning,” you hear from the kitchen.
“I’m really tired so I’m just going to eat in my room,” he explains to his mom. He starts to make a plate filled with extra food when his mom quickly hands him a huge plate with two times as much food that any normal person would eat.
“Tell her she can stay as long as she needs,” you hear her say and your heart is swallowed with love, except it’s from someone else’s mom and not your own which leaves a whole in your heart waiting to be filled by the women who is passed out on your living room couch with a stench of stale beer.
He quickly grabs the plate and whispers, “thank you”, quiet enough that you won’t be able to hear over his loud footsteps leading him back into his room.
“Good morning,” you smile as the words come out his mouth. Your whole body sparks because of the smell of the huge breakfast set in front of you.
“Good morning,” you reply as you sit up and wrap yourself into his blue comforter and your nose fills with the delicious smell that lingers with him.
“Everything looks delicious,” the words pour out of your mouth as you’re stuffing yourself with the dry pancakes from the plate in front of you. His bed is too small for the both of you, but he still takes his seat on the comfy bed with your knees both barely touching. The slight touch sends a signal through your whole body telling you to move closer, but your brain is telling you to move away. It’s almost ten and you know your mom will be waking up soon with a major attitude as a result of her enormous hangover.
“I should get going,” you exclaim.
CARTER POINT OF VIEW:
“Please don’t go,” you plead as she is fixing her hair in your oval mirror hanging up on the wall behind your bedroom door.
“Carter, you know I have too leave. If she wakes up and I’m not there, it’ll get worse,” she quickly replies. Your whole body cringes at the sound of her mom. She doesn’t deserve a daughter like Morgan you think to yourself.
“Fine, but I’m walking you. And we can use the front door,” he surrenders.
“But your mom?”
“Morgan, she knows. Don’t worry,” you reassure her that at the sound of these words her face is about to go red and her smile will reach to her beautiful hazel eyes because of embarrassment.
“Oh my gosh, Carter! I’m so sorry, are you in trouble? Does she think I’m a horrible person?” The words fly out of her mouth just has her face starts to redden and her smile starts to widen.
“She thinks you are a great person, and I will never get in trouble for you climbing through my window,” you reassure her as you step closer to her. Your bodies are only a few inches away. You wish to lean into her and kiss her soft lips but know she would just refuse. Instead, you pull her close for a long hug that seems as if it will never expire.