When it's Over

Part 8

Morgan

It takes me an extra thirty minutes to cover the bruise beneath my eye. The cut on my lip is scabbed over, but it's delicate and even the slightest stretch makes it crack and bleed. I sit in my car outside the high school wishing I didn't have to go in. I don't want to face him today because I've already spent all morning trying not to cry. This is not my life. This is not what I choose for me.

The bell rings as a few students hurry past my car. I'm late. I just can't do the walk in with everyone looking at me. When the parking lot is clear I take a deep breath and check my make-up one more time. I walk in slowly, stopping at the office for my tardy slip. The woman behind the counter barely looks at me as she stamps the pink slip and hands it to me. "Thank you," I say softly.

An office door opens and out steps the school counselor. Our eyes meet and she smiles at me. I feel my heart race in my chest and I struggle not to hyperventilate. I nod my head in greeting and hold up my tardy slip, as if I'm showing her, but really I'm hiding behind it. I turn and head for my locker.

Rick is waiting for me there. He has a small bouquet of flowers and my favorite coffee from Starbucks. His eyes dart over the layers of make-up and when he sees that what he's done to me is covered up, his shoulders visibly relax. I see in his peaceful face the boy I fell in love with. My heart almost trips over itself, desperate for him to make this all better. I know that his promises will be empty, but I still want to hear him say them.

"Hey beautiful," she says softly. "I bought you some flowers and coffee." He holds both out for me to take and I slip the tardy note into my pocket so I can juggle his gifts. I want to throw them away. I want nothing from him but his honesty and his regret.

"Hey," I tuck the flowers under my arm so I can open my locker.

"Look, I'm really sorry. I got a little drunk and then pissed off. It won't happen again. I promise. I swear. It will be different this time."

"OK," I tell him because if he's going to lie to me then I can lie to him. He can't keep his promises, and it is certainly not OK.

"So I was thinking that we could ditch at lunch and go to lunch. I'll take you anywhere. We can't go afterschool because I have to hit the weight room or coach will be pissed, but I can leave for a little bit during lunch and right after." He moves to touch my face and I flinch. We don't say anything.

"I can't go at lunch." I guess lying is coming easier now. "I have to meet with my math teacher."

"Come on, I'm sure you can do it afterschool instead. Please. I really think we need some time together."

"Rick, I can't. I'm sorry." He doesn't push it even though I know he wants to. I grab my English textbook and shove the flowers into my locker. I don't even care if he gets pissed about it. "I have to go." I take a step away from him but he grabs my arm. My eyes glare down at where his hand is on me and I jerk away. He moves quickly, lifting both hands up in the air in surrender.

"Jesus, Morgan. I was just going to offer to walk you." My mouth almost hangs open in shock. He's surprised I don't want him touching me? That I'd assume he might hurt me?

"I'll see you in History." We have fourth period History together which only makes me dread this day even more.

"OK. I'll see you then." He almost looks sorry. I believe somewhere deep inside he is. I just don't think he's going to do enough about it. I nod my head and leave, headed for my class. When I walk into the room I take my seat at the back and plan to hide behind my book all period. When the teacher gives us time research for our essays, I pull my phone out and answer the email from Wes.