Chasms of Copper

Chapter 13

[Edited]

Morgan

The brunette woman enjoyed a nice day at home before she had to go to work. She walked around the house, gathering up her scattered finals notes and chatting with her best friend on speakerphone. 

"Look," she laughed as she walked around her three-room house. "All I'm saying is I don't get all the hype about Ryan Gosling."

"Girl, are you even a member of the female race?!" Jane laughed on the other line of the phone.

"Apparently not," Mo mumbled and stacked her chemistry notes. During finals week---a couple of weeks previous---she'd utilized every note, every day, all day. And now she was paying the price of studying---having to clean up the scattered papers. 

She switched the phone to her other hand. "Do we really have to watch 'The Notebook'?"

"It's THE iconic Ryan Gosling movie! We have to!"

"Yeah, but I heard it was sad! I don't want to cry, today."

Jane sighed. "Hon, don't hate on something you've never seen before! I still can't believe we've been friends for three years and I've never forced you to watch this with me, before. Anyway," the redhead reverted from her tangent. "'The Notebook' is really romantic! You'd love it!"

"I don't know," Morgan cast a look around the floor of the house, searching for any more misplaced papers. "I'm a hopeless romantic and all, but even I blanch at the simple title of 'The Notebook.'"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, that title could mean anything! It could have to do with anything between symbolizing two characters who connected by grabbing the same fallen notebook in a hallway to an assassin's personal journal full of the names of targets!"

Mo smiled at the sound of her friend's surprised laughter. "I'm glad you think my confusion is hilarious," she drawled.

"It is!" Jane laughed. "So, will you watch it with me?"

The brunette sighed. "Maybe."

"Oh come on! You said so yourself, you're a hopeless romantic!" Her friend said in a sing-song tone.

"Not that much!"

"Oh, you're one to talk!"

Morgan hesitated, slightly afraid, now. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Jane's smug voice sounded. "You've hardly talked about anything else since you met him---that was two weeks ago! It's always 'Roy's eyes' this, and 'Roy's hair' that, and 'I hope Roy liked the book I gave him!' Just admit you have a crush!"