The Days They Felt Alive

Friends 'Till the End

Oh shit oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Her hands hit the sidewalk when she tripped, but she pushed herself up and kept running. The sirens were close. Really close. Her heart was pounding. Though she was breathless, she was laughing.

Somewhere to hide, alleyway, shed, something? There's gotta be a goddamn place to go!

A few feet ahead of her, a turn for an alleyway.

Yes!

She turned-

"Watch out!"

And collided with Emalee Stewart.

SHIT

She tried to jump up, but Emalee grabbed her ankle and pulls her back down.

"Let go!" She swung at her, but Emalee grabbed her arm and shushed her.

"This way!" Emalee helped Morgan up. The sirens were feet away. She opened the side door to a huge blue house and pulls the other inside. The sirens raced past the house. Morgan's heart was racing, her mouth was dry, and her clothes were soaked with sweat.

"Why did you help me?" She growled. Emalee shrugged.

"I've seen you around school." Morgan huffed.

"That doesn't explain anything." Emalee gave her a nasty look.

"I saved you from the cops, didn't I?" Morgan shut up. "Whatever. Want some lemonade?"

"Sure." Morgan sat down at a wooden table in the middle of the gigantic room. "So, this is your house? Your parents rich?" It was the biggest house in Highton city.

"Yup. My dad is." Morgan watched her pour the lemonade.

"I like your hair." She said quietly.

"Thanks, purple is my favorite color." They sat in silence together. Emalee didn't take her eyes off Morgan's face. "So, what did you do?"

"Hm?" Morgan set the glass down and rested her head on her hands.

"Why were you running from the cops?" Emalee refilled her cup.

"Ah. It's a long story." Emalee gave her an impatient look. "Alright." She sighed. "I threw a brick through a cop car window and then a bag full of piss into it. It exploded everywhere. Dude was coming out of the gas station and he saw me do it. I don't think he saw my face though, since I tied my bandana around my face and kept my hood up."

"Why a bag of pee?" Emalee asked, amused. Morgan shrugged.

"Oh, my parents made me pee in a cup last night for a drug test and it gave me the idea. It wasn't actually mine, though. It's my five year old brothers. Little dude will do anything weird if you ask him to."

"Wow." Emalee laughed. "You really don't like cops, huh?" Morgan shook her head.

"Not since my ex boyfriend, Michael Thomas, told me he wanted to be a cop."

"What did he do?"

"He broke up with me because I wasn't hot enough." Emalee winced.

"Wow, when was this? I thought Michael moved to Florida in 6th grade?" Morgan nodded.

"5th grade. He said he couldn't date me because Annalyse was hotter." Emalee laughed.

"So you've had a grudge against cops because a boy broke your heart in 5th grade?" Morgan nodded again.

"Yup." she lied.

"You're funny. I like you." Emalee took a sip of her lemonade. Morgan flashed her a smile.

"Who doesn't?"

The two exchanged numbers, and after an hour or two, Morgan headed home. She almost asked to spend the night. When she got to her house, her dad's cruiser was in the driveway. She shuddered as she walked up the steps.

"Why was coming home such a bad thing? I've met officer Bentley, he seems like a nice enough guy." Marcus asked, once she had finished her story. She frowned. Her shoulders relaxed as she put her head down.

"I don't like talking about that." She mumbled.

"Why not?" Marcus pushed until she snapped,

"Do you think kicking your barely graduated daughter out of the house because she likes women is something a 'nice enough guy' would do?'

Oh. Ouch. He almost felt sympathy for her. Almost. He still hadn't heard anything back from the bomb squad. "Let's change the subject." he offered, and she nodded. "Uh..." he looked at the ceiling until he came up with an idea. "What was the first crime you and Emalee ever committed together?"

"Mmm. Petty theft." He bit his tongue. The question he really wanted to ask was burning his throat.

"Okay, I have to know. Did you kill Devon Stewart, and Marjorie Stewart?" His leg was shaking under the table. She gave him a blank look. He waited for an answer, but one never came up. "Fine. Another question. Let's talk more about you and Emalee?" 

"Okay." He watched as she drank more soda. 

"You guys went to high school together? What grade did you meet?"

"9th. She was in my homeroom." He rubbed his chin. 

"Did you hang out a lot?" She nodded. 

"Almost every day after school, until I got a job." 

"Where did you work?" Her eyes closed as she yawned. 

"A gas station. Till I got fired." He gave her a questioning look. "Some woman threw a slushy at me but I caught it, opened it, and threw it in her face." 

"Assaulting customers, then. Got it." 

She rolled her eyes. 

"She deserved it, come on." He shrugged. 

"What happened when you came home, and your parents found out you were fired?" She shook her head, laughing. 

"I know what you're doing, but I'll let it slide." She smiled sadly, looking at the table. "Good old dad decided I wasn't allowed to have a door, phone, or computer. I couldn't see friends for two months, and I had to be drug tested every week. I'd never even done drugs while I lived there." 

Marcus nodded, remembering something from her file. "Ah, yes. You were very, very high when you were arrested. I remember that." She shrugged. 

"Whatever. It's not like I have a lot of fun sober." He honestly felt a touch of sadness for her. 

"You get high a lot?" She shrugged again. 

"I did, until I lost...um. Never mind." She looked at her hands, which were cut up and bruised. "Anyway. I'd been sober for a while. Six months." She bit at the skin on her lip. "Yay."