I think about it for a few minutes and come up with an idea.
Me: I think I got it. Thanks.
Sage: Remember condoms…
Me: Sage…
Sage: Just saying… no babies.
I back out of my text thread with Sage and start one with Mrs. Wright. Her number hasn’t changed over the years, and she often texted me to check in.
Me: Hey, it’s Keaton. I know today's Morgan’s birthday, and I was wondering if you guys had any plans to celebrate tonight.
Mrs. Wright: Shouldn’t you be in class? *wink face* We have early dinner reservations at Noble. Why, would you like to do something with Morgan?
Me: This is what I was thinking…
Once the bell rings, I rush out of class and straight to my Senna.
“Hey, where are you going in a hurry?” Finley yells from behind me.
I don’t respond verbally but pull out my phone and send him a text.
Me: Can you take Tins home? I have somewhere I need to be.
Fin: Can do, but you owe me.
I jump in my car and slide my phone into its holder on the dash before starting her up. I run from store to store, getting everything I need to make tonight about Morgan. She deserved to have a special day that’s all about her.
She always hated celebrating her birthday when she was younger. Even then, she was shy. She never wanted the attention on her. It killed me when we were freshman because I wanted her. Not only could I not have her because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I also knew that being my girl meant a whole lot of attention.
Would she care about all that attention now?
She seems much more confident now. Maybe performing at that school did that for her, gave her something she wouldn’t have gotten here. I would have let her continue to hide in my shadows. I never could tell her no.
As I pull into her driveway, I take a minute to breathe, getting my head in the game.
Other than the kiss at the bonfire, which I don’t count since it was forced, we haven’t had another. She’s been giving me small signs here and there, but as soon as I see them, they’re gone. I can’t risk this precarious balance we have, but after the last movie day we had, I can’t help but think she wants this. Wants us.
“Fuck it, if she even gives me the slightest hint, I’m making a move,” I mumble to myself as I slide out of the car. It takes two trips to unload the bag, and I say a silent thank you to Mrs. Wright for telling me how to let myself in.
I go up the stairs and into Morgan’s room and start setting it up.
About an hour later, I hear a door downstairs open and close. “Keaton?” Morgan yells.
“Up here,” I yell back and hold my breath.
???
Morgan
I enter my room and stop in my tracks, gasping. My hand flies to my mouth, and I try to hold back the tears.
“What’s this?” I rasp out, trying to get some control of my emotions.
“Happy birthday, baby,” Keaton says from his spot leaning against my bathroom door.
“Keaton….” I trail off, speechless.