The guys were barely out the door when Libby fell apart. She didn’t escape to her room and hide in her bed like she used to, getting owned by depression that was still too close at hand most days. Now, she talked. Mostly to Jess because Jess could handle it better than Legend or Emily at this point, and because Libby trusted Jess more than her own mother, at least when it came to this.
When Libby struggled with things like this, her own mom tried to listen, but ended up too emotional to be of much help. Libby needed someone to be strong while she fell apart, and Jess could be that. It also helped that Jess had been there. Libby had a hard time discussing it with anyone other than her counselor, who hadn’t actually been in the room with her. Her dad was no help at all, just advising her to turn to God and pray. Ask Him to take the feelings, memories, sounds and smells away that haunted her. Like God was a Magic 8 Ball or a genie in a lamp. And now it was clear that Liam didn’t understand at all.
But if there was one thing Libby knew for certain, besides the fact, of course, that God loved her and cherished her, was that God allowed all kinds of things to happen to the ones He loved for reasons she couldn’t understand.
So while Emily and Legend giggled with CJ as the youngest girl on the TV show said “You got it, dude,” for the millionth time, Jess and Libby excused themselves to the kitchen where they could talk.
“Are you okay?” Jess asked once they were settled with cups of Mayan hot chocolate. which was basically chocolate milk with cocoa, cayenne pepper and cinnamon, heated up with a cinnamon stick as a finishing touch.
Libby shook her head, staring dismally into her cup and stirring it with a spoon. “I don’t understand him at all. He said he was doing it for us. For our healing, but I know it was all about him.”
“Maybe it was both…” Jess offered.
“It wasn’t,” Libby denied, shaking her head again. “He told me on the way home how glad he was that I helped him see what it was like, because now he felt so much better about everything.”
“Well, in theory, that’s not a bad thing that he feels better. But there’s no way he should have made you his tour guide while he was delivering the room from demons or whatever the hell he was doing,” Jess scoffed.
“And it is good he feels better,” Libby managed, her voice thick. “But don’t drag me back in there. Or all of you. Don’t twist our arms. He knows I have a hard time asserting myself when it comes to that. That I’m still scared into doing whatever somebody tells me. He knows that, and he forced me into it anyway. He made me go behind that desk. Talk to him about what was done to me. He made me go under the table like I hid there before.”
Jess nodded silently, covering one of Libby’s hands with her own.
“It just sucks,” Libby cried, her eyes bright with tears. “He’s my brother. But he’s hurt me so bad, Jess. Seriously. What do you do with that?’
“I think,” Jess said carefully. “You do your best.”
Libby cocked her head a little, wiping her face. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you do your best to deal with it. If you have to carry that pain for a while than carry it. But don’t let it carry you. Be angry. Be hurt. If you weren’t I’d be worried about you. But don’t let your hurt feelings turn you bitter, okay? You have such a sweet heart. Talk to your brother. Tell him he hurt you. Then, when you’re ready, lay it down.”
“What if it hurts too much?” Libby breathed, biting her lip.
“Then, just keep talking it out. Paint it. Break something you don’t care about, but get the feelings out of you.” Jess told her seriously.
“How did you get to be so smart about all this?” Libby asked, cracking a smile.
Jess shrugged, twirling her hair around her finger - a sure sign she was uncomfortable with such praise.
“I’m not,” Jess assured her. “I think it just comes with being a mom.”
“You’d make a great counselor,” Libby told her honestly. “I think I like you better than the one I’ve got.”
“Why?” Jess asked, curious.
“Because…even though you don’t remember, you were there. “ Libby admitted.
Jess squeezed Libby’s hand and then smiled slyly. “So, if you like me better than your own shrink does that mean you’re gonna pay me for my time just now?”
Libby pulled her hand away, and smacked Jess playfully, laughter bubbling out of her. “Oh, get real! You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“My bank account really would,” Jess told her, smiling.
“Well, good luck with that,” Libby told her, and left her with a wink.
“I’m always here,” Jess called at her back.
“I know. I am, too,” Libby returned, waving behind her, as she dove between Christian and Legend making them squeal and rush to move out of the way.
--
Jess wasn’t able to fall asleep for a long time, simply because her mother’s heart kept her awake. Morgan still wasn’t home, and that was making her worried. It wasn’t that Morgan never stayed out, because she did. It was just something about tonight, and something about the way she had been acting lately that had Jess concerned.
On the TV, a little girl drove the family car straight through the wall of the kitchen.
Beside Jess, Legend shuddered, and whispered her name.
“I’m right here,” she reassured quietly, squeezing Legend’s hand. “It was just the show.”
Luckily, that was all the reassurance Legend needed.
Jess lie awake for a long time, wondering where Morgan could be. Finally, she gave up and simply prayed that God would protect her. Then, Jess muted the TV and fell into a fitful sleep.
--
Morgan eased the door open hours later, wondering if anyone had waited up for her. But she found the apartment dark, and her friends and Christian sprawled out on mattresses in the living room while an old sitcom played on TV, with the sound turned off.
“Hey,” Jess whispered, making Morgan jump. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Morgan nodded, even though it was dark and almost impossible to see.
“Why don’t you come lie down here? We’ve got room for you,” she offered softly.
“That’s all right, thanks, though. I think I’m just going to crash in my room. See you tomorrow.”
‘Okay,” Jess answered, a little uncertain. “Love you.”
But by then, Morgan had disappeared into her room.
--
Liam was sleeping hard when he felt Morgan crawl into bed with him. He smiled to himself. Even though he knew it was wrong, he figured they were going to be married sometime soon, so they could afford to slip a little on whatever boundaries they had agreed on for the relationship. Right now, though, he couldn’t remember a single one.
When he reached out to put an arm around her, though, she went still, and Liam drifted off. By the time he woke up again, Morgan was gone.
--
“Hey, boys. What’s up?” she asked, watching Nate and Cary with their heads close together on Nate’s bed.
“Morgan?” Nate asked. “It’s really late,” he told her, concern darkening his eyes as he looked at her. Something seemed off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m cool. Just trying to find some night owls, you know? Everybody’s sleeping already at our place.”
“It’s almost three o’clock in the morning. People should be sleeping,” Nate pointed out. “The only reason we’re not is that I can’t.”
“Do you need something? To help, I mean?” she asked, taking another step inside.
Cary squinted as Morgan caught herself on the doorframe. “Girl, are you trashed?”
“No,” Morgan said shaking her head. “I mean, I drank a little earlier, but I’m legal. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, except you’re not a drinker. Not even socially,” Nate pointed out. “You don’t like what it did to your sister. The person it turned her into.”
“I know, but she doesn’t drink responsibly. That’s different,” she reassured them, her tone placating. “Where’s Jonathan, by the way? I haven’t seen him in forever,” she reached out to steady herself on Nathaniel’s rolling desk chair and when it slid and crashed to the floor, Morgan went right with it.
“Did you drive here?” Nate asked seriously.
“Yeah. What’d you think? I’d hitch or something?” she grinned picking herself up from the carpet.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Jonathan asked irritably, losing his attitude when he saw Morgan getting unsteadily to her feet. She was high as a kite.
Her deep brown eyes were empty, her clothes disheveled. And she smelled like a bar.
“Morgan…. What the hell did you do?” Jon asked, shaking his head.
“I didn’t do anything I swear, you guys. It was a stressful day, so I had a drink to take the edge off, okay?”
“What’s going on?” Liam asked sleepily. “Why are you yelling at her?”
“She’s high,” Jon said plainly, his anger barely masked by the straight-forward tone.
“What?” Liam asked, cracking a smile. This had to be some kind of joke. Morgan had even given up cigarettes. She never drank. Never did drugs.
“Are you high?” he asked, steadying her.
“Of course not!” she denied, “They’re just overreacting.”
“She’s not high.” Liam told them, crossing his arms. Then he took Morgan by the shoulders and guided her back to his room. “Lay off my girlfriend. She would never lie to me.”
There was a long pause, before Cary glanced at Nathaniel and Jon in turn. “Should I leave?” he asked.
“No,” Jon decided quickly. “Stay. We might need you.”
--
Liam got Morgan back to his room and shut the door for privacy. Then he stripped off his shirt. He had been awakened by the noise, of course, but also the fact that it was no less than a billion degrees in his room.
Morgan stared, as Liam dropped his tee shirt on the floor. Now, he was only dressed in black boxer shorts, with a green iguana on one leg. It had a sick long tongue that made Morgan’s stomach churn. She thought they had a deal. That they weren’t going to do the wild with one another unless there were wedding vows involved. But she guessed this was fine, too.
She knew Liam had wanted to be her first, and had wanted her to be his. She knew that he saw her as ruined now, and there was nothing she could do about that. One man had already taken from her. If Liam wanted what was left, that was fine with her. Let him have it.
“Let’s go, then,” she said like she was about challenge him to a skateboarding race. But instead, she took her own shirt off, and freeing her ponytail from the hat and its elastic.
“Wait. What?” Liam stuttered. “Let’s go…to bed?” he guessed, his eyes wide.
“Sure. Wherever,” she shrugged.
She wouldn’t feel a thing anyway. Everything was felt clumsy and blessedly anesthetized. The room spun and she stumbled a bit as she struggled out of her belt and jeans. Even though the thought of getting physical with a guy made her sick, Morgan pushed the thought out of her head. Maybe she would keel over and just die right in the middle. That would be nice. She would get what she wanted, and he would, too. For once, they would both be satisfied.
Liam blinked. Then he remembered the other guys, trying to tell him she was using drugs. He scanned her arms for needle marks, and couldn’t find any. Before he had time to think another coherent thought, she was kissing him hard.
But she backed off quickly, letting Liam take the lead. She forced herself to think of something else when she felt herself being slammed up against his closet door. Groceries made their way through her mind. She thought of muffins, and Count Chocula cereal. She smelled oranges and had no idea why, but it made her sick.
Down the hall, Jon and Nathaniel heard it at the same time. A sound from Morgan they never thought they would hear again, and definitely never wanted to. They looked at each other for only a second before taking off down the hall with Cary trailing behind them.
--
The sight of Morgan in her unmentionables, her hair loose down her back had Nathaniel and Jon standing speechless in the doorway. Cary was the first to react. He rushed in and yanked Liam away, pushing him in the direction of the bed.
“What the heck, you guys!” Liam exploded. “You don’t just come in unannounced. This kind of thing is private!” He took a few steps toward Morgan but Cary blocked his path, his blue eyes blazing electric.
“Don’t touch her,” he threatened, as Jonathan wrapped a blanket around Morgan’s shoulders and Nathaniel picked up her clothes.
“Where do you get off? Seriously?” Liam exclaimed, hurriedly pulling his discarded shirt back over his head.
“Where do you?” Jon threatened. “How could you take advantage of her like that? I ought to kick your head in right now…She doesn’t know what she‘s doing, you total moron!”
“She came onto me! She just…started stripping and said lets go!” Liam objected. “What was I supposed to do? I love her.”
Jonathan hauled Liam up by the front of his shirt. “Say no. Be a damn man for once in your life,” he spoke the words like a warning.
“It’s okay, I told him it was okay. I wanted to,” Morgan interjected. She was feeling more than a little tipsy and unsure. And she hated seeing all these guys fighting because of her.
“Morgan. Stop,” Nate told her quietly, handing the black hoodie she had worn over. She fumbled it and it dropped to the carpet at her feet. When she bent to pick it up, her blanket fell open.
Cary got down in front of her to secure the blanket around her shoulders.
“It’s okay,” she told him, the drugs in her eyes barely masking the brokenness underneath. She lurched toward him dangerously, like she wanted to kiss him. “See?” she asked, taking his face in her hands.
“Shit. No. Okay,” Cary sputtered, backing off. “You sit there,” he told her, a new firmness in his voice.
“Morgan! What are you doing?” Liam demanded, his voice intense.. “That’s so not right,” he rushed at her and she flinched.
Cary stood up, effectively blocking Liam from getting into Morgan’s face. “Back off.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” Jon repeated angrily, wondering when Liam would get the point through his thick head.
“I looked,” Liam defended to the room at large. “She doesn’t have needle marks or anything. I told you she wasn’t on drugs,” he said condescendingly. “She makes perfect sense when she talks. So maybe she had a drink or something. That doesn’t mean she’s impaired.”
“Check the pockets,” Jon whispered to Nate, who still held her jeans in his hands. He had taken a seat beside Morgan and was doing his best to calm her.
Almost immediately, he felt plastic crinkle underneath his hand. Wordlessly, Nathaniel handed the baggie to Jon, while Morgan was distracted, staring at nothing. Quickly, he checked all the pockets in her jeans and found loose pills in there. These he recognized immediately as Jess’s anti-seizure medication.
Clenching his jaw, Nathaniel handed them to Jon as well, and then did his best to control his anger. “Morgan. Hey. What were are you doing with Jess’s medicine in your pocket?” he asked gently.
“I just had it in case she needed it,” Morgan explained, leaning heavily against him. Now, it was starting to feel late. She was exhausted.
“She offered to pick up when Jess spilled them this afternoon. She must’ve pocketed these instead of putting them back.”
“That’s not true, you lying sack of shit,” Morgan spat, her eyes blazing. She struggled to stand up, but could barely manage to lift her head from Nate’s shoulder.
“How can you say that?” Liam exclaimed, insulted on her behalf.
“Because I watched her walk up and offer to pick them up after Jess spilled them,” Jon said bluntly.
“How? I mean…I didn’t know people on drugs acted like that,” Liam managed clearly confused but resigned to the fact that Jon had to be right. The evidence was right in front of him. “I’m gonna go…pray,” Liam managed, and left the rest there to figure out what the hell they were going to do.
“You’re delusional from the stress,” Morgan yelled at Jon, all the anger draining out of her, as she rested her head against Nate’s shoulder.
“Morgan,” Nathaniel whispered, fighting tears. “How could you do this? You could have talked to us. We would have helped you.”
“No one can help me,” she mumbled.
--
Jon stared at the collection of prescription medicines Morgan had apparently amassed from all of their apartments. He was shocked to count five of his own migraine pills in the stash, and had no idea when or how she had managed to steal them. Jon kept track, if for no other reason than he liked to know when he was going to have to get it refilled, and pay for it. He still hated parting with a buck.
“What do we do with this?” Nate asked, feeling hopeless.
“If she drank and took any of these, she could be in serious trouble,” Jon said, staring at Morgan who was now curled up under her blanket sleeping. Every once in a while, whoever was closest would check to see if she was still breathing.
“Where are her parents?” Cary asked.
“Vacation south of the border,” Nate said quickly. “I already tried to call. Their phones are off.”
“Shit,” Jon swore as a tiny folded up piece of paper fell out of Morgan’s sweatshirt sleeve and onto the floor. As an afterthought, he had checked again. Just to be sure she didn’t have access to anything else when they got her decent enough for the hospital trip that looked imminent.
Gingerly, he picked up the paper and unfolded it. Morgan’s handwriting leaped out at him, messy, small, and almost illegible.
Smoke and mirrors is all that’s here. So let me go. I’m just a shadow anyway. Sorry about everything. It just hurts too much to keep living like this. Morgan.
“What is that?“ Cary asked, coming to look over his shoulder. “Holy shit…” he gasped as he read the words.
“What?” Nate asked, tears shining in his eyes.
“It’s a suicide note,” Jon managed, and nearly choked reading the date. “She wrote it weeks ago.”
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