Page 2 of Casualties

Me

Hey!When will you guys be here?

Momo

We were home earlier, but I had to run a couple errands.Ace isn’t there?

Me

Oh, I’m not sure.I just walked in.But I don’t see him.

Momo

Wait!Why are you home already?Don’t you have school for another three hours?

Me

Chill Momo!It’s senior year…Half days.Duh!

Momo

FOR THE LAST TIME STOP CALLING ME MOMO!I can’t have women I’m talking to at school hear that nickname…not great for the reputation Mini Copeland.

Me

I’ll stop calling you Momo when you stop calling me Mini Copeland!

Momo

Fine!But for the love of God, don’t let anyone hear you say it when you get to BSU.

Me

Yeah yeah…

Mom said it started when I was learning how to talk and couldn't say Morgan, so he became Momo.I don’t mind calling him Morgan, but getting a rise out of him makes my day.

There’s no sign of Ace, so maybe he went home for a bit.I know they wanted to get takeout for the four of us to have a movie night in, so I know I'll see him later.

The stairs creak as I climb two at a time, and I hear noises coming from Morgan’s room.Ace must be here after all.

I’m not surprised.Mrs.Maddox hosts a weekly book club today at this time.We never want to be there when she hosts book club.It’s a room full of middle-aged women talking about how big the male character’s cucumber is.

The three of us learned our lesson the hard way when we walked in on what we thought would be innocent women discussing profound literature.Innocent women, my ass.They were measuring vegetables to get a visual of the character's size.The cucumber won, hence, the nickname.It gave all three of us the ick.We vowed to never risk walking in on book club again.

The sounds from Morgan's room are getting louder.What is he doing in there?Working out?If he is, I am interrupting.If I don’t, I’m not sure when I'll get another chance to be alone with him.

You can do this.Nothing will change if he doesn’t feel that way about you.Just put yourself out there.

The racing beat of my heart sends my nerves into overdrive.My hand reaches for the doorknob and I start to turn it, then pause.A female giggle punctures my ears.

He isn’t alone.

Like a creep, I gently press my ear to the door to hear who it is and what they’re doing in there.The high pitched giggle was a gut-punch, but this is much worse: They are not only talking, but making out, too.The gross lip-smacking sound reminds me of a drooling dog licking the peanut butter off a spoon.The noise filters out between muffled voices, accompanied by giggling.

My mouth pools with saliva from the wave of nausea rolling in my stomach.His rejection of my feelings for him, I could've handled.But I was definitely not prepared for this.

I shift my feet for a better listening position and wince at the creak the floorboard makes.

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