Missed Connections (60 page)

And with every passing day, Will felt himself more and more drawn to his old friend.

Morgan told him about his time with his grandfather, going to the new school there, baking cookies on Friday nights, and spending Sundays feeding the ducks at the nearby pond. Will discovered he was enjoying just listening and watching Morgan talk animatedly about all the adventures they'd shared and life in general with his grandfather. He looked so happy and cheerful as he talked, like he was eight years old again.

And for a moment, Will forgot that it had to end.

It took Morgan a while to finally talk about what happened to him after his grandfather's death, how he had been brought back to the city and immediately put in the foster care system. And the system, as it is with most children, was not kind to him. Will was shocked and outraged as Morgan described the foster home he was put into. His foster parents had basically treated him no better than a common slave. It was like a modern day Cinderella story full of abuse both psychological and physical, locked doors, and serious degradation. But unlike Cinderella, nobody would come to Morgan's rescue and he had enough sense to do something about it. However, even after months of calling his social worker, telling her what was happening and what his living conditions were like, the story remained the same. She refused to do anything, saying he was overreacting or that she would come by and he just had to be patient. But she never checked up on him and he had finally had enough. He ran away, figuring he had a better chance of surviving out on the streets than he did in that hellhole.

He had been barely sixteen at the time.

But life on the streets, although slightly better, was harsh. Morgan told Will reluctantly about the first few weeks, how degrading it felt to have to beg for money, food, even blankets to keep warm at night. How most of the city folk thought him to be a druggie, what with his pale complexion and naturally thin frame, so it was harder to earn any coin. And because he had never been able to return and finish his schooling—it was the easiest way for his social worker to find him and drag him back to his foster home—he hadn't been able to get a job. At one point, things had gotten so bad, that Morgan had almost given in and gone back to his foster family. But that's when he told Will he met James.

James was the one friend he made in his time on the streets, just another homeless kid trying to get by. But James had been at it a lot longer than Morgan and was able to teach him a few tricks. He taught Morgan everything he needed to know, introduced him to the shelter workers and the soup kitchen volunteers, made sure he was connected in all the right ways. He even taught him how to pickpocket, but Morgan hated stealing and only used the tactic when he was extremely desperate. James became his mentor and survival guide on the streets. But, of course, it didn't last long. Not a month after they had met, James disappeared. He was found not a week later, beaten to death and dumped in the canal bordering Demply Park on the edge of the city. Gang violence, the police said, but Morgan swore up and down that it was not. James had despised gangs. Will figured it had probably just been some hooligans bored of the night life and looking for something to do.

Spring break rolled by quickly as Will and Morgan got reacquainted. Will realized he actually didn't want his time at the soup kitchen to end. He had looked down on it at the beginning, hated every second of it, and hadn't understood why anyone would volunteer to feed the scum of the city. But every time Will made a cutting comment or voiced a particularly insulting observation about someone out of habit and the ideals that had been drilled into him by his father, the scowl and look of disapproval or disappointment on Morgan's face was enough to make him clam up. He hated seeing those looks on his friend's face, especially when aimed at him. And after a few occurrences, Will learned to keep his thoughts to himself. Yes, he found it difficult to ignore his father's voice in his head, the voice that constantly reminded him of his place in life, how he should act around those below him, how he had the right to treat them as their better. But Morgan was slowly opening Will's eyes to the world around him, showing him that these people were just the same as he, only with rotten luck. Some of them had made bad decisions, some were not at fault, and some were just born into the wrong families.

And he learned that the soup kitchen tried its best to feed everyone, but wasn't adequately funded and therefore couldn't afford much in the way of food and supplies.

When the final day of working at the kitchen rolled around, Will knew he couldn't leave this place. He had learned so much about life and living in the last week than he ever had anywhere else. His desire to help Morgan any way he could and learn about him and his hardships was strong and he knew there was no better place to start than the soup kitchen.

So at the end of his shift, he asked Judy if he could continue to come in and help out for the evening meals.

"Of course you can dear," she sniffed, tears welling in her eyes. "It would be a pleasure to continue to work alongside you. And I know Morgan would appreciate it too. He's quite fond of you, you know."

And if that wasn't reason enough to stay on, Will didn't know what was. His heart swelled at the words, but he knew there was no way any impact he had on Morgan compared to how much Morgan was making an impact on him.

When school started up again, Will was swept away in the mounds of homework and tests that seemed to want to fill up all his time. But he always showed up to work his shift at the soup kitchen, always greeting Morgan when he appeared with a gentle smile and a promise to join him as soon as he was finished. Sometimes he brought his homework with him, teaching Morgan about what they were learning. Morgan, for someone who hadn't made it past his sophomore year, was extremely bright and eager to learn. And he seemed to have an aptitude for calculus that Will just didn't. It made Will smile with pride when Morgan was able to show him what he did wrong on a problem and he found himself watching Morgan more than focusing on his homework. It was during these times that he noticed how when Morgan was nervous, he acquired a subtle tick in his right hand. And that he worried his lip when he was thinking. It was these little things, that Will found so endearing and so adorable. And he soon found himself longing to kiss the worry away. He restrained, not knowing how it would be received.

Will thought about it more as the days continued to scurry by. How the urge to touch Morgan increased, how Will found himself leaning toward him more, how certain lingering gazes caused heat to rush to his cheeks. It was not a feeling Will was entirely used to. Never had another person made him feel this way and quite frankly, it scared him.

It wasn't until a couple of weeks into the new quarter that Will finally convinced Morgan to show him where he lived. As they strolled down Fuller, getting closer and closer to Fourth Street, Morgan got quieter and quieter, sometimes bursting out with suggestions of things they could do instead, or things he had forgotten he needed to do. But Will only stood there patiently, staring at Morgan with a knowing look until he conceded that he was only stalling and they carried on their way.

Morgan's living space was nothing more than a flimsy cardboard lean-to utilizing the alley's dumpster and side wall for support. Inside, Will could see there was little in the way of possessions or comfort, just a few threadbare blankets and an extra shirt. It tore at his heart, seeing Morgan living this way, struggling to just survive. And when he glanced over and saw the shame clouding Morgan's face, he couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed him then, just a soft gentle peck on the lips, but he poured unspoken promises and reassurances for the future into that one sign of affection, hoping that the message was understood. When he stepped back, Morgan just stared at him in shock, touching his lips with a finger as though he couldn't believe that had just happened.

"What... what was that for," Morgan asked, the confusion clear on his face but an unreadable emotion in his eyes.

"Just making a promise to myself," he responded coolly, ignoring the embarrassment he felt. He had just kissed Morgan, giving in to the urge, not knowing at all how it would be received. For all he knew, it was uninvited, possibly unwanted, and he might have just lost his friend... again.

But then Morgan smiled back at him saying, "Well, here's to hoping you keep that promise." And this time, Morgan kissed him.

After that, Will became more and more bold in his affections toward Morgan. He discovered that Morgan hated excessive PDA, and was only able to tolerate subtle touches or the quick peck on the cheek. But when they were alone, he didn't mind so much. The change in their relationship was slowgoing, blossoming out of a long-lost friendship but Will treasured every second of it. The bliss of their relationship, however strange and unconventional it was, made a grin a permanent feature on Will's face. He felt unstoppable; felt like nothing could possibly bring him down from the high Morgan's returned affection brought him.

Until Morgan mentioned his birthday.

They were lounging on the grass surrounding the duck pond in the middle of Gentry Park, not a block from the soup kitchen, hands twined together shoulders brushing.

"Three days? Your eighteenth birthday is in three days and you're just now telling me?!" Will was slightly insulted that he hadn't been told earlier and slightly embarrassed he hadn't remembered. But it had been almost ten years since that information had been relevant so it was only logical that he hadn't remembered. Right?

"It was a well-known fact back in the day. Didn't think you would have the memory skills of a goldfish," Morgan chuckled with his usual cheek before adding, "But then, I have helped you study so I don't know why I'm shocked."

"Excuse me, my memory skills are just fine, just a little rusty in certain areas," Will stated, affronted. When Morgan just let out another soft chuckle, Will took it as the subtle challenge it was. He crossed his arms, allowing a bit of mischief to creep into his eyes. "Oh, I see how it is. Fine, if it's such a well-known fact then when is my birthday?"

Without missing a beat Morgan replied, "February twenty-first."

Will was shocked into silence for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. "Sorry I don't have the memory of an elephant. Not all of us can be as gifted as you."

Morgan laughed then before turning back to watch the sun set behind the tall buildings of the west side. After a minute of not-so-subtle admiration, Will turned back to the setting sun, his mind whirling with half-formed plans. He was determined to do something for Morgan's birthday, something memorable. A present, he needed to get him something. But what?

He was about to open his mouth and ask Morgan—subtly of course—what he wanted when Morgan cut him off. "Will, I know what you're thinking and please, don't make a huge deal out of this. I'm not exactly looking forward to my birthday."

That shocked Will into silence. What did he mean he wasn't looking forward to his birthday? It was his
birthday
for crying out loud. If there was one thing Will remembered from the time they were kids it was that birthdays were Morgan's favorite time of year. Even Christmas couldn't compete.

"What, why not?" Will asked confused. "It's your eighteenth birthday! You'll finally be an adult!"

"Exactly," was all Morgan said before extracting his hand from Will's, getting to his feet, and walking down the path back toward the soup kitchen.

Will sat stunned for a second not sure what to think of Morgan's abrupt change in behavior. It wasn't unheard of really. They fought sometimes, and most of it pertained to Will's insistence on helping Morgan. But this? Nothing had really prompted the downturn.

There was only one way to find out what had happened.

"Morgan, tell me what's wrong," Will asked, after jogging to catch up with Morgan's quickly retreating figure. But after a few minutes of silence as his only answer, Will pleaded, "Please."

"I'll be an adult, Will," Morgan sighed, sounding defeated. "The system will no longer have any hold on me, yes, but I also lose the benefits that being a minor awards me out on the streets."

"I... I don't understand."

Morgan sighed again, finally stopping at the edge of the park and turning to face Will, hands deep in his pockets and blue eyes filled with shame. "Haven't you heard the term women and children first?"

Will nodded, a scene from the movie
Titanic
popping up in his mind.

"Yeah well, that's a rule upheld here too. Men are turned away more often, especially adults." Morgan looked toward the heart of the city. "Life gets just that much harder," he finished sadly.

Will hoped that Morgan was exaggerating just a bit.

Despite Morgan's wishes, Will couldn't just do nothing for his birthday. He knew most the gifts he wanted to get Morgan would be refused, no matter what day or occasion they might represent. Money would be an insult to Morgan's pride, a blanket or clothes would be an insult to Will's, and everything Will usually gifted others just wouldn't be practical to the situation. He needed to be sneaky, think outside the box and around the tree if he was to have any chance of it being accepted. So it was with a little ingenuity that a plan slowly formed.

And three days later, Will was able to put it into action.

They walked down the street that night, heading toward the heart of downtown, neither daring to speak a word about what day it was nor the birth that occurred on it some eighteen years ago. Will could see that Morgan was more tense than usual, but their easygoing banter and conversations never once wavered, never faltered. He knew this was the way Morgan wanted it, but he also knew that whether or not Morgan wanted to admit it, this was a special day. If not to Morgan, than to Will.

Will wanted to celebrate because without this day, Morgan would not be here now. And Will would never have known him, would never have met him.

"Morgs," He said abruptly, the nervousness that had settled in his stomach now threatening to spew forth. He had never been one to get nervous, never like this, but right then he couldn't stop the jittery feeling. It scared him to death but at the same time excited him for what it might mean.