Narc (21 page)

“Morgan,” I whispered. “You can’t stay here.”

She scooted closer.

“Morgan,” I said again.

“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”

I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re something else. You know that?”

She shivered. “Right now, I’m freezing.”

I wrapped the blanket tighter around us. Morgan nuzzled her face against mine. We were kissing again and her hands were sliding around.

“I can’t do this,” I told her.

She blinked at me. “You don’t want to?”

“God. What do you think? Of course, I do. But it’s just … ”

“Just what?”

I could’ve told her the truth.
I’ve never done this before.
What difference would it make?

Morgan cried silently, her entire body shaking. “Be honest. You think I’m ugly.”

“Stop it. Listen to me. You’re not ugly, okay? Far from it.”

“I can take a hint,” she said, turning away from me.

I yanked back the covers. Morgan didn’t move. Her scars were faint crosses rippling along her thighs. I moved my hands over them, tracing the raised surface of her skin.

“Believe me,” I said.

Morgan pressed closer. It felt as if we were sinking underwater, drifting in slow-motion. I wanted to know if she cried when her stepmom punished her for writing with her left hand. I wondered what songs pumped through her headphones on the day we met, and did it hurt, the first time she dragged that piece of metal across her thigh, or did she learn to stop hurting, stop feeling anything at all. I knew that sex was supposed to be a big deal, but afterwards, we just lay there, barely touching.

That was the saddest part.

22 :
Close Your Eyes

It was too dark to see. No telling the time. Morgan snored with her head buried under the blanket. I wondered how she could breathe.

The door banged open, and Skully barged into the room. Her boots clicked across the floor. “You should see the backyard. A tree fell in the pool. Get up. I want to show you.”

I shoved my face deeper into the pillow. Skully could be so evil sometimes.

She tickled my ear. “Did I disturb your peaceful slumber?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“You can go back to sleep now.”

“I’m not sleeping.”

“So get up,” she said.

“Give me a minute.”

“Are you butt naked under there or what?” She tugged the blanket. It slipped out of my fingers. I scrambled for it, but she pulled it off the bed with a flourish. Her smile faded when she saw Morgan curled next to me, in nothing but her birthday suit.

“Oops,” Skully said.

Morgan covered her eyes, as if that could make the room magically disappear. “Skully,” she said. “Could you exit, stage left?”

“Sure thing.”

“Like, right now?”

“You got it.” She tripped over the blanket on the way out.

I groaned. “That did not just happen.”

“Unfortunately, it did,” Morgan said. “I saw everything … with my eyes closed.”

“You realize that she’s going to blab about this to everybody,” I said, jerking the covers back on the bed. I draped it over us like a tent. We huddled under it like little kids in a fort.

“Are you embarrassed?” Morgan whispered.

I couldn’t stop looking at her. “About what?”

“Do I have to spell it out?”

I leaned in for a kiss, but she moved away.

“You can do magic, right? Well, make my scars disappear,” she said.

I shook my head. “Don’t start this again.”

“You’re totally going to ignore me now, aren’t you? I’ll see you at school, and you’ll pretend I don’t exist.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know.”

“It sucks that you think so little of me. I mean, do you really think that I would just ditch you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I’m not like Brent or those other guys, okay?” I said. It sounded like a cheesy pickup line. “Just hear me out. I want you to know that last night was amazing.”

“Then why aren’t you smiling?” she asked.

“Look. There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

She frowned. “You’re seeing somebody else.”

“I’m not a player, if that’s what you mean.”

“Then what’s so important that you can’t talk about it?”

I kept my mouth shut.

She curled onto her side, away from me. “Brent was right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He said you were fake.”

Crap.

“What exactly did he say?”

“That you’ve been lying about a lot of things. He thinks you’re just using people.”

“And you believe him?”

Morgan did that cute thing, blowing her bangs off her forehead. “Maybe,” she said.

I opened my mouth, but she was on a roll.

“Why were you living in that shitty apartment with your mom? Are you in trouble? Did you do something bad? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I want to. You have no idea.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because it could hurt you,” I blurted out.

Morgan started to sob. “So it’s true … what Brent and all those people are saying.” She cried harder. Her shoulders heaved. I put my arm around her but she pushed me away.

“Listen. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I wanted to tell you, but it was never the right time. It wasn’t even my idea.”

She wiped her face. “What are you talking about?’”

I’d blown it.

“You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?” I asked slowly.

“What did you think I meant? All that stuff people said about you being a player?”

“A player?” I shook my head. “I’ve never even had sex until last night.”

“Right. I’m supposed to believe that? How can I believe anything you say?”

“It’s true,” I said. “I’ve never even had a real girlfriend.”

“Is there something else I should know? Those rumors about you … ” She trailed off.

“Morgan, listen to me.”

She was listening. And she already knew.

No use hiding anymore. I was sick of it. Sick of hiding, sneaking around, observing from a distance. Sick of keeping my mouth shut. For once, I opened it. This is what came out:

“I’m telling you the truth now, Morgan,” I heard myself say. “I’m a narc. Do you understand what this means?”

She bit her lower lip. “Please tell me that this is a joke.”

“I’ve been working undercover for the Miami Dade narcotics unit … ”

“No,” she said. “This is not happening.”

“ … and I’m supposed to find who’s supplying to Palm Hammock.”

Morgan stared at me, as if she could see through my skin, my bones, every molecule in my body.

“So tell me, Aaron—or whatever your name is—what’s it like, working for the police?”

“It’s not what you think,” I said. “It was forced into it, you know? But now … I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

“Well, maybe you can explain it to me.”

“Listen. I really care about you. And Skully. Now that I’ve gotten to know you guys, I don’t want to go through with this.”

“But that’s not going to stop you, is it?” she asked.

“I didn’t want things to blow up like this. I didn’t even send that invitation online. I don’t know who e-mailed it to me. I told the lead officer that the alpha dog would be there.”

“The what?”

“The guy who calls the shots. In this case, Finch. He’s the one they want.”

“Finch? What did he ever do to you? He’s the sweetest guy on the planet.”

“Right. The guy’s got a dope farm in his garden shed.”

“How do you know?”

“He and his dad were showing it off. But I can’t figure him out. I think he’s been trying to turn people against me. Remember that picture from Skully’s party that got sent to the entire school?”

Morgan didn’t say anything.

“The picture, remember?” I said. “The one where it looks like we’re messing around.”

“Of course. I know who took it.”

I sat up straight. “Who?”

“Skully stole your phone. She confessed to me. I’m over it.”

“Why the hell did she take that picture?”

“She was crushing on you. God. You’re so stupid.”

“Isn’t she gay or whatever? How was I supposed to know?”

“I thought you were different from the other guys. I must’ve been insane.”

“Morgan,” I said, reaching for her. “You have to talk to me. This is really important, okay? What’s the deal with the Everglades party?”

“I don’t know who sent that message. I could totally see Finch hacking into your account because he’s real good at computers and stuff.”

“He doesn’t even go to our school. Why is he suspicious of me?”

“Because he figured it out.”

“How?” I asked.

“You brought too much attention to yourself.”

In my entire life, nobody had ever told me this.

“Like at Skully’s party,” she said. “You weren’t into our scene, he never saw you at the house before. Then you start asking him for drugs. And you’re, like, trying to buy a lot. Of course he’s going to be suspicious.”

My head was spinning. As the pieces of our conversation echoed in triple speed, my brain latched onto something worse:

“Do you think that Finch created this Everglades thing …
to set me up?”

She pulled the sheet closer, although the room was warm, all of a sudden. Too warm. “If he knows what you’re doing, then yes. He’ll try to get rid of you.”

“What do you think he’ll do? How bad is it?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But Finch never would’ve treated me like
this
.”

“Right. What makes you think he’s such a good guy?”

She glared. “We used to go out.”

“Unbelievable,” I said. Finch, with the snarly hair and gross mustache. “God. Who else have you slept with?”

Morgan slipped out of the bed. She shrugged into her prairie dress, leaving the buttons undone, and bolted down the spiral staircase. I raced after her, half-tripping because I couldn’t see shit. I pounded down the steps, around and around, calling her name.

There was nothing I could say, except, “I’m sorry,” but she wouldn’t listen.

When I reached the last step, I looked out through the sliding glass door at the pool, and even without my glasses, I could see that a tree had fallen into it: either torched by lightning or toppled by the wind. A thicket of leaves clogged the deep end. I should’ve gone out there and pushed the tree back into place, but I knew it wouldn’t budge.

I just wasn’t strong enough.

Status: UNSENT

To:  LadyM

From: Metroid

Subject: (No Subject)

Dear Morgan,

I’m sorry.

I tried calling you a million times, but you won’t pick up. Just let me explain. If you ever talk to me again, it will all make sense. I swear. Please don’t shut me out. The Internet is dead. I even walked to the Starbucks on Old Cutler (in a lame attempt to borrow their Wi-Fi, but when I didn’t buy anything, they kicked me out).

Now I’m at Skully’s house. She keeps asking me about you. I think she knows I fucked up, but I guess you didn’t tell her that the party’s a setup. And don’t worry. I won’t tell her anything about last night. I’m good at keeping my mouth shut. You could say I’m an expert at it. Besides. I’m not one of those guys who runs around bragging about their “conquests” or whatever. As I’ve already told you, my lack of experience is a joke. Who am I kidding? My whole life is a joke.

If you were here, you would look into my eyes and know I’m telling the truth. The cops straight up played me. I swear to God. Do you really think I wanted to go through with this? It’s supposed to be my senior year. I didn’t need this shit dumped on me. I only did it because they threatened my little sister. I can’t let anything happen to her. My mom is basically AWOL, and I’m the only one around.

I had to make a choice.

Please don’t think I’m laying excuses on you. I mean, it doesn’t justify what I did. It fucking sucks, but that’s the way it is. You deserve soooo much better. I want you back in my life. I need to believe that’s possible.

So I’m sitting on the bed at Skully’s. Holding back tears. Listening to my iPod. Every song reminds me of you. I miss the forest-smell of your hair. I miss holding you in my arms. I remember that night on the roof. Your Wintergreen kiss. The first party, when you put a rubber band on my wrist. The field at school. You: sitting on the bleachers like an Egyptian queen. God, I wish I could go back in time.