Hey Monday

c o n f u s i o n

-noah-

"She's still behind us," Logan said with a sigh. He was perched in the passenger seat, noteiceably on edge and nervous. His curly brown hair was even more disheveled than usual, and he kept glancing out the window and muttering to himself. 

"Hey, man, calm down," I replied. "Kate's psycho, but she's nothing we really need to worry about right now." 

Logan just pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't know, Noah," he said with a skeptical sigh. "Never underestimate what a wounded girl is capable of." 

 I furrowed my eyebrows. Never underestimate what a wounded girl is capable of. The phrase, reverberating around in my head, suddenly reminded me of when Ellen went topless at a house party. She was drunk as hell that night, but the next day back at school was like her own personal hell. 

Everyone had heard about it by then- some people even got video- and Ellen's life was completely transformed. She was no longer the quiet little good girl who sat softly in the back of the class- no, now she was a slut. A skank. A whore. She was Ellen Wilson, teenage catastrophe. 

Ellen was wounded, yes, and she rose up from the ashes and ended up ahead of our entire class, graduating with honors and accepted to three of her dream colleges which she decided to turn down anyway.  

My eyes flicked to Morgan for a moment, who was scrolling through something on her phone. I didn't know where Ellen and Evelyn were, but Morgan was completely alone in the living room. 

"Hey, Logan," I whispered covertly. "Can you switch seats with Morgan?" 

Logan tore his eyes away from Kate's car and gave me a knowing smirk. "Ooh, Noah," he mocked. "Trying to make a move, are we?" 

"Oh my god, just go," I said, playfully shoving him aside and calling Morgan over. 

 She looked up, surprised for a moment, and then quickly masked it and slowly made her way over to the front. "What's up?" 

"You looked bored," I shrugged. "Wanna talk?" I tried to make it sound as casual as possible, but I feared that she saw right through my little act. 

Morgan allowed herself a little smile and flicked some of her firey red hair behind her shoulder. "Okay," she mumbled, plopping down clumsily in the seat next to me. 

That was one thing I had noticed in the short time that I'd known her- Morgan was the clumsiest person I had ever known. She tripped over everything, hell, she tripped over nothing sometimes. It was impressive though; takes a bit of skill to trip on thin air. 

Besides that, she had a ton of bruises littered up and down her arms from accidentally hitting things. She'd stub her toes on the furniture, run into closed doors, and break glasses and plates all the time. I hope she'll never go ice skating, because I don't know how she'll possibly make it out alive from that. 

Somehow, though, the clumsiness just made her more endearing. I found myself smiling when she cursed after breaking something, or chuckling inwardly when I heard her hiss in pain from stubbing a toe. It was just part of Morgan. 

"So..." she murmured, eyes trained on the road ahead of us. "How was your day?" 

"Barely even started," I replied. "It's only noon, you haven't gotten dressed yet, for Pete's sake." 

Morgan blushed and glanced down at her flannel pajama pants. "Well, yeah, I guess so," she laughed. "Fair enough." 

"What did you eat for breakfast?" I wondered. I could smell her strawberry scent filling my nostrils and lingering there.