Saved By Her Guitar

Shelton went into Morgan’s room.
She was lying on her stomach with her left arm hanging off the side of the bed and her right foot hanging off the end. Melanie was halfway on Morgan’s back, using her for a pillow, her left arm thrown across and also hanging off the side.
It had been a month and he’d come in every morning to find them like this.
“Girls, let’s go!”
Melanie always woke first then she’d shake Morgan to death until she woke up (ironic, I know). They’d take their time getting ready, Melanie more so than Morgan. Then Morgan would be heading out the door before she knew it.
“Remember, Dad. We’re going straight to the airport after school. We’ll be back next Friday evening.”
“I remember.”
“Good. Mel, c’mon or Barbie will be taking you.”
Morgan could swear there was a little trail of dust behind Melanie as she bolted out the door.
And that was how it went every morning except for the small talk of going out of town. It was the last day before Spring Break and Morgan and Melanie were going back home to Pasadena so they could see their mother.
When ever anyone asked Morgan what she was doing for Spring Break, she told them she was going home and left it at that. It was no one else’s business. She had, however, told Dillan where she was going especially after the last incident. Naturally, he understood. At first she’d hoped he’d offer to come but then was glad when he didn’t. It would be a private family occasion.
Their father had understood yet was reluctant. He didn’t trust to send Morgan home or anywhere near but her reasons were pure. Her mother had cancer and she hadn’t seen her in four months. Even Morgan couldn’t warp that scenario.

After school she raced over to pick up Melanie then to the garage where Dillan was waiting.
“Ready?”
“Yes but one last time.”
“Nobody touches the cars. That includes all of them; all of them being: B Rabbit, Lance, Fantom (Infiniti), and Blaque (M3). I got it. I will be here all week and I will be swallowing the keys until you get back.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“Now let’s go, woman.”
When they got to the airport and went through all the shenanigans, they waited to board.
“Question,” Dillan said.
“Hmm?”
“Are there any exs I should be concerned about?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course.”
“Then no. I love you, Dillan. I belong to you and no one else.”
“Ahem,” Melanie cleared her throat.
“Oh, except Mel. You have to share me with Me.”
He smiled, “I love you, too.”
“Boarding for Los Angeles, California.”
“That’s us.”
Dillan kissed her. “See ya.”
“See ya.”
Once they boarded the plane, he headed out.
Morgan noticed they were sitting on the left side.
“Score. Window seat.”
“Mo.”
“Yes?”
“Can I have the window seat?”
“You ride shotgun, little sister.”
“What’s that have to do with anything?”
“It means you sit on the right. Not the left.”
Morgan laughed as Melanie flopped down next to her.
“Sometimes you are such a big sister.”
Morgan shrugged and looked out the window.
“Can I get you girls anything?” a stewardess inquired.
“Pea-
“Sex on the Beach, on the rock, hold the cherry.”
“She’ll have a sprite and I’ll have the same. Thank you.”
The stewardess walked away.
“I don’t want a sprite,” Morgan pouted.
“Well, that’s what you’re having.”
Some of the other flyers looked at them strangely.
“What?!” Morgan shouted.
“Stop it, Mo.”

When they landed, their Uncle Josh was waiting.
“What? I don’t get a car?” Morgan mused.
“None of these cars are worthy,” he replied.
“Indeed, I concur. But you aren’t slick.”
He laughed and hugged her.
“You’ll be driving your mom’s Saab.”
“Score,” she sang.
“Sh-
“Shotgun,” Morgan howled and got into the front seat. “Too slow, Mel.”
Melanie groaned and got into the back.
He drove them home.
“Home sweet Pasadena,” Morgan sighed happily.
She walked inside and inhaled slowly.
“Now, Morgan, I’m trusting you to stay here with no problems.”
“Uncle Josh, I’m not going to trash my momma’s house while she’s recovering from cancer. Give me some credit.”
“I am by leaving you here alone.”
“Thanks then. I guess.”
“The fridge is stuffed but if you need anything, call. The car keys are on the living room table.”
“Okay.”
“Alright. You girls gonna be alright?”
“Yeah but…how’s she doing?”
He looked away. “She’s okay; better than she was which is good. I think seeing you two is just what she needs.”
Morgan nodded.
“Eleven o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
When he closed the door she flopped down on the couch. She didn’t like the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes. That wasn’t a good sign. She’d gone into the hospital a month a go and Morgan knew that wasn’t a long time but she was only doing okay? “Better than she was” but still only okay. She felt somewhat depressed thinking that her mother wasn’t progressing, that she wasn’t getting any better.
“You gotta be okay. You’ll beat this. I know you will.”
The bell rang.
When she opened the door, Amanda was standing there.
Amanda was the kind of girl who could be anyone and she was currently a punk rock girl. She had on light blue jeans that were perfectly ripped here and there. The jeans enveloped the flip flops except for her toes. Her t-shirt was black and had a white picture on it of a bucking horse; under the picture it read: Get Off My Back!
Her black eyes liner was especially black but it made her grey eyes pop. Her hair was dyed black and had white streaks in it. The only thing she hadn’t changed was the lip gloss. She absolutely refused to wear lipstick. But the hoops, wild hair, black fingernails and the drawn on tattoos were all part of the new persona.
She threw her arms around Morgan’s neck.
“How ya’ holdin’ up?”
“Fine. Thanks.”
She walked pass Morgan into the house.
“Everyone is praying their keysters off.”
“Keysters?”
“It’s been too long. No one else gets me like you do.”
“Cute punk rock girl.”
“Thank you,” she said exasperated, falling back on the couch.
“But I’ve got a question.”
“Shoot.”
‘ “Who’s blacker now?”
She caught the throw pillow Amanda hurled at her. Sometime Amanda got teased at school because she went through a number makeovers. She wasn’t weird or a dork or any of those things, she just liked to change it up every now and then. She didn’t like being predictable.
“My skin’s darker so technically I am.”
“Only technically.”
“Whatever.”
“So…how are the kids treatin’ ya’ at school?”
“Just because you aren’t at school anymore doesn’t mean people forgot who you are.”
“Cause you know I’ll go find who ever right now.”
“That’s why they leave me alone,” Amanda laughed, “because you’re crazy.”
“I just love my friends.”
“Where’s your sister?”
“Probably sleeping in her bed. She’s not me, ya’ know. A month is like forever for her.”
“Yeah. So, miss no facebook. Do I finally get to see this Dillan? This Irishman?”
Morgan gave her phone to Amanda who was the only person besides herself who knew the password.
“This is not!”
“He’s hot, right?”
“He’s like…Twilight hot; like…solo alternative rocker hot; like…Ian-
“Somerhalder! I know!”
“Wait, there’s more: a Chris Evans, Zac Efron, Shia LeBeouf-
Morgan laughed.
“Oliver James, Jonathan Rhys Meyer hot sexy beast. How’d you snag this? He’s a freaking model on the low, isn’t he?”
“No.”
“Then you took a picture of a picture in a magazine.”
“Got to the next one.”
“Photoshopped.”
“It’s not.”
“This boy is real and undiscovered?”
“Yes.”
“He has Jonathan’s Rhys’ eyes and James Oliver hair color with Ian flair.”
“Body like a god who plays soccer.”
“I need more, compare.”
“Uh,” she thought, “In between Tyler Lautner and David Beckham because he’s not younger than Tyler and not older than Beckham but the results are still bodylicious. There should be one in there.”
“Oh, yeah. I was looking at it while you were explaining. You explained well.”
“Why thank you.”
“So how long you been together?’
“Three months.”
“Have you-
“No.”
“How does he feel about that?”
“He doesn’t bring it up. He said he’d be ready when I am and I think he meant it.”
“Unlike Tad.”
“Who thought breaking up with me would make me do it. Yeah.”
“He’s been talking about you; asking about you.”
“Good. He was a jerk. He deserves to miss me. I was good to him.”
“Aw. He looks like he has nice lips.”
“He does.”
She was looking a picture of them kissing, “Who took this?”
“He did.”
“Alright, Morry. I want the truth this time.”
“He’s not a ‘freaking model on the low’,” Morgan reassured.
“How are you really doing?”
She held Morgan’s eyes. Amanda had the potential to be intimidating with her grey eyes but she was a lover not a fighter.
“I’m—I don’t know. I’m not getting my hopes up,” she said sadly.
“What? What happened?”
“Uncle Josh, in not so many words, pretty much said she wasn’t doing any better or showing any signs of recovery.”
“Oh, no,” she said throwing her arms around Morgan.
“You can cry, ya’ know,” Amanda whispered.
“Tears are definitive. I won’t jinx her.”
Amanda drew back, “You suddenly look very tired. I’ll head out.”
Morgan walked her to the door.
“Don’t’ lose hope, Morry. Have faith.
It was refreshing to hear her best friend say it. It’d been too long since the last time Amanda had said those words to her. It always lifted her spirits.
“I’d give you a ride but I don’t want to leave Mel.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay walking all the way home alone?”
Morgan watched her pad across her lawn, across the street and into her own house.
The burnt orange Mitsubishi Eclipse was in the driveway. Morgan hadn’t wanted to have a car and Amanda not have one. She picked out a nice junk car and bought it. She’d used the little cash she had fixing it up and it had turned out better than she’d hoped.
It was faster than it should be, lighter than it should be and outrageously upgraded. Even with Morgan in New York Amanda could still get herself to school and where ever else.
She went up to her room and stood in the doorway. It was exactly as she’d left it; clothes everywhere, shoes put away, closet wide open, empty spaces where posters and pictures had been. Her bed was made probably by Melanie who she knew had been sleeping in it while she was gone.
She lay down waiting for sleep to take her.
An hour into sleep, her phone rang.
She cleared her throat, “Hey there.”
“Hey there. Did I wake you?”
“Yes,” she said smiling.
“Sorry. I can-
“My friend was very pleased with your appearance.”
“Yeah?”
“She likes the hair and the eyes and the lips,” she giggled.
“She had good taste.”
“Yeah. She asked if you were ‘a freaking model on the low’.”
He laughed.
“She thought I photoshopped you in from a magazine.”
“I must meet this friend.”
“One day soon, hopefully.”
“So, how’s it going? You sound…downhearted.”
“My mom’s not doing—she’s not doing any better. She’s not recovering.”
“If her resilience is anything like yours then you have to believe she’s trying. You shouldn’t think the worst. Your mother has cancer, Morgan. Sure, she could be doing better but don’t forget she could be doing worse too. These things take time.”
“I know. I’m just worried. I love my momma.”
“Good. You wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t.”
The line went silent.
“Morgan.”
“I wish you were here. I need you,” she whimpered.
It pained him to be so far away.
“No you don’t. You never needed me before and you don’t need me now. You’re strong. Besides, I’ll be there in spirit. I love you, Morgan. You can do this.”
“I love you, too.”
“Do you want me to stay on the phone until you go to sleep?”
She laughed lightly, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Goodnight, baby.”
“Goodnight.”
She hung up and went straight to sleep.