Coffee and Cigarettes

I couldn't breathe...I couldn't see. Maybe it was something psychological. Maybe it was because I was trying to hide from society, and because I didn't want to be seen by anyone for the next fifteen thousand years.

Or maybe it was because my face was covered by a very large pillow while Blair tossed some well-deserved insults at me from the other side of my bedroom.

"You're an idiot," she repeated for the umpteenth time.

"I know," I said once more. "I get the effing message."

"I don't think you do," Blair said, an amused smirk on her face as she propped her chin up against her hands on my desk. "Or else you wouldn't have run away."

"What was I supposed to do?" I snapped. "He caught me completely off-guard!"

Blair shrugged. "He obviously likes you. I don't know what I'm going to do with you...you've got such awkward social problems with boys."

"Do not!" I protested.

"Do too," she retorted. "You've got to stop running away from everything. Stop being such a recluse. Go out there and yet your man!"

I narrowed my eyes at her. "He isn't 'my man', first of all. Secondly, I'm not leaving this room ever again...unless I have to go to the bathroom."

At that very moment, Bob waltzed in. "Boy troubles?" he asked sympathetically.

"Frank troubles," Blair corrected.

"So I've heard," he answered with one eyebrow raised.

I looked at him, clearly confused. "Who told you that?"

Bob snorted. "Who else? Gerard," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "He's going around telling whoever'll listen. You know how he is once he's buzzed...gossip queen."

I rolled my eyes and tried to smother myself with my pillow. Bob proceeded to take the pillow away from me. "Give that back," I commanded, rolling myself up in my sheets.

"You're not going to seriously camp out in your room for all eternity, are you?" Bob asked, getting slightly concerned. "I know that you're confused, but what about Frank? Just how do you think he feels?"

I paused. "Better than me?"

"Possibly worse."

"Serious doubts," I remarked rather loudly.

"Morgan," Blair interjected. "You're being a big baby. The guy's in your history and math classes, right?"

Insert a nod here.

"That means that you can't avoid him forever, right? And he did give you that locket, after all."

I glanced over to my nightstand at the gleaming locket that lay abandoned by my lamp. I never got a chance to ask him about it...I'd probably have to mail it back to him or get maybe Libby or Mikey to force it back into his hands...either way, I wasn't--

"Morgan?" Bob interrupted my messy slur of thoughts. "You like him, don't you?"

I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face even more into the fluffy blankets. I gave him a very muffled answer.

"What was that?" he asked irritatedly.

"Maybe," I clarified. Blair snorted.

"Let's just go, Bobert," she said with a sigh. "This baby's never going to grow up."

"I told you to stop calling me that," Bob whined as Blair shoved him out of my bedroom. I glared at them as they closed the door shut. I was not a baby! I might've been acting like one, but for good reason!

This is where my conscience stepped in and reminded me that there's never a good reason for acting so childish...realizing this, I did the first thing that came to mind. I grabbed the phone and dialed Libby's number.

"H'lo?" I heard her say.

"Libby?"

"Ma'am."
"Wanna help me with something?"
------------
"Why am I doing this for you?" Libby hissed as we hid in the shrubbery beside Frank's house.

"Because you're my best friend and you love me?" I suggested sweetly. Libby shot me a glare that read, What else? "I'll treat you to Starbucks, you big baby."

Her mood lightened considerably. "Okay!" She skipped out of her hiding place and walked slowly up Frank's front steps. She knocked three times and stood there, waiting.

Momentarily, Frank came to the door. "What do you want?" he asked rather rudely.

Libby gave him one of the fakest smiles I've ever seen. She held up the shining locket at the end of her slender index finger. "Look familiar to you?"

I saw Frank's eyes widen. "Where did you get that?"

Libby shrugged. "Where else? From Morgan." Frank's face seemed to soften at the sound of my name. Or maybe my mind was too eager and was just playing tricks on me. "She doesn't want it."

She tossed the locket at Frank who caught it with one hand. "She...told you this?"

Libby shrugged again. "She just doesn't believe that you can actually change. She doesn't want to get involved," Libby snarled the last words just for impact. Frank glared down at her. He was no giant, but he still hovered over my best friend.

The locket was clenched in his fist. "I'll just have to talk to her myself then, won't I?" he asked bitterly.

"I suppose so," Libby said nonchalantly. "But I hope that you realize that you can't win yonder maiden's fair hand unless you prove to her that you can change. Good luck, douchebag."

Libby then proceeded to skip merrily down the steps as Frank retreated back into his house.

"I've done all I can do," she said, returning to my side. "The rest is up to him."

I sighed. "Thanks, Lib."

"No problem," she smiled. "Now, about that latte..."