Believing in a Fantasy

I snorted out a laugh, and then looked up at Morgan in half-disbelief. "Did you have an aneurism when you asked her out or something?"

"I don't know. I have no idea why, I just did. This morning I told her it wasn't going to work out," he admitted. "She's really weird."

"I could've told you it wouldn't have worked from the beginning."

"Hallie, you would've said that about anyone if I'd asked you first."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything. His hazel eyes flicked a glance in my direction, and then looked pointedly up at the sky, as if trying to warn me. The looming April rain cloud was moving faster than we were walking, and had already begun drizzling.

"You have to stop being so negative about relationships - do you know how many really honestly great guys you've turned down? Even just in this past school year?" I could tell he was looking right at me now, but I continued to ignore him as if he hadn't said a word. "Your parents aren't the only example of love in the entire world. Not all love falls apart as badly as theirs did, Hal." The same statement was as incisive as ever, despite how many times it was voiced.

Regardless of what Morgan told me countless times over, I couldn't get over my strong aversion - near fear - to any kind of loving relationship besides the friendship we'd had since we were four.

Instead, after the barbed pause, I said, "So this morning your amnesia passed?"

"What amnesia?" He was thoroughly confused, and looked down at me.

"Oh, the one where you forgot what attractive looked like."

After a moment of thought, he chased me down the street like we were those two four-year-olds again, both of us laughing and Morgan calling out my name. Then suddenly the rain came rushing down. I screamed out a laugh, but kept running. I ran into an old, run-down abandoned house, and Morgan followed. It was dim inside, and virtually every surface was layered with at least months' worth of dust.

Morgan leaned with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. "Out of shape, are we?" I asked, grinning a little.

"Screw you," he laughed, panting.

I looked around the front hallway of the house. "Should we stay here till it stops raining?"

Morgan shrugged. "Why not?"

I immediately went upstairs. There wasn't much to see - the house had been abandoned, but that didn't mean whoever had abandoned it had left stuff in it. I tried the attic next. The whole time, Morgan kept worrying.

"The floor's gonna collapse and you're gonna fall through it and die," he insisted for the umpteenth time.

The floor didn't fall through, but I did trip on a loose board. He yelled and grabbed my arm, fearing the worst, yanking me back and close to him.

"Calm down, I'm okay," I told him. He let go with an embarrassed grin on his face, but I pretended that I hadn't noticed the total overreaction.

The attic was full of even more dust and not much else. There were two small windows revealing the downpour that pounded relentlessly on the old shingles of the roof. I dragged the only thing there, a big, empty trunk, to the center of the floor and sat on it.

Morgan sat down next to me, and I scooted over a little, looking up at him. His dark hair stuck to his face, soaked from the rain. He was tall, and I never realized how old he looked for a sixteen, almost seventeen-year-old. His eyes, though, full of energy and mischievousness, made him seem much younger than that.

He gently touched my curly blonde hair. I felt so small next to him, especially being barely five feet tall. "I never noticed how pretty your eyes are," he told me. I shrugged his hand off of me nervously.

"Um, thanks?" I was unsure how else to respond to him. I looked down at the toes of my shoes peeking out from underneath the hems of my waterlogged jeans.

I felt his arm on my shoulders, and looked up in surprise. I turned my head and came face to face with him, less than an inch away. Before I knew what was happening, Morgan kissed me.

At first I almost went berserk, scared and nearly angry. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't love Morgan - love didn't really exist. People just forced themselves to believe in something from a fantasy. I couldn't crush him if he loved me, though.

Then I realized: maybe I could force myself to believe, too. Maybe it wasn't so hard. Maybe I just wasn't trying hard enough. Maybe if so many people believed, it wasn't as horrendous as it was rooted in my mind. I still didn't truly believe in love of any kind, but in that moment, I definitely felt something.

"You remember that thing where I tell you no relationship ever really works?" I asked.

He nodded, his face falling a little, hazel eyes filling with disappointment. "Yeah."

"I think I might be able to make just one exception," I told him, smiling.

He smiled back, that small effort wiping all displeasure from his expression. "I kind of hoped so."