The Fourth of July and the Surrounding Events

CHAPTER 18

Recoiling, I drew my hand back in shock, "You knew? You said the FIRST time we met, that I didn't know you."

Then, as if she was admitting to running over an innocent baby bunny, she mumbled, "I lied."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I nearly yelled as I stood up from the table. I could see tears welling in her eyes, but my current focus was on the rage I felt. She played me. I could understand if she had just remembered like me, or she didn't want to tell me immediately, but this, this was way past "immediately." "How long," I said demanding an answer from her, "how FUCKING long did you know?"

Cowering into the booth we had just laughed in, Morgan managed to squeak out, "The entire time."

Rolling my eyes in disbelief, I slammed a 50 dollar bill on the table, the impact scaring Morgan. I may be angry but if I'm going to storm out of this restaurant, I'm at least going to pay. "That's pathetic," I seethed. "You knew this entire week. The party, when we kissed, this whole fucking dinner. How could you?"

My dinner date brought her head up, looking into my eyes, "I was scared. I had a chance to restart new with you, so I took it."

"But what about me? You completely played with my feelings. I deserved to know," I said lowly expressing my pain. She may have been scared, but if we knew each other previously, I had a warrant to know.

"Alexa," she said standing up to face me, "I was scared."

"I know that you sai-"

Interrupting me, she slowly annunciated the unexpected words, "I was scared because I'm in love with you."

She's in love with me?

With millions of thoughts running through my mind, I unintentionally picked out the most pessimistic one.

She's lying. She could never love you. Not this soon and not ever. It's only been a week.

For once, I decided to think before I spoke, both Morgans I know would not lie about something as serious as that.

"I am scared because I don't know which version of you I'm in love with," she said, slowly sitting back down into the booth.

Sliding in next to her, I turned to face her, "What do you mean?"

Trying to explain, she let out a sigh. "For years we were platonically best friends. I was infatuated with you though. Everything you did, I wanted to do. Then, after the boating accident, and I went away, I dated around, trying to fill the hole you left unconsciously."

Letting her continue, I nodded to the nice teenage waiter who had come to collect the slightly creased 50 dollar bill.

"I couldn't figure out why I never clicked with any of the boys I dated until I realized I liked girls too, which led me to realize I had liked you the entire time."

Stopping her, I took my turn to interrupt her, "But you knew nothing about me past 5th grade?" It wasn't entirely far-fetched, she could've been in love with the feelings she felt with me, but still highly improbable.

"You're right, I didn't, but I had my idealized version of you, and 10 years old you grew up in my mind. I tried so hard to let you go, I really did, but it was virtually impossible. Most of my therapists told me I couldn't because you were the last happy thing I had from my childhood. So, when I met you on the 4th of July, my expectations were thrown out of proportion. You were prettier than I could ever have imagined, smarter, taller. Nothing was the same and it scared me. Was there even a trace of the girl I used to know?" she said truthfully.

"I understand," I trailed off, "But how would that constitute love?"

"The accident caused amnesia, so for a while, my memory was really fuzzy. Rockland faded pretty much completely from my memory within a year, but you, the memories I had with you stayed as clear as day. They still are. I held on to the precious thoughts of you because they allowed me to feel whole again like I wasn't missing something. I analyzed every memory over and over, falling more in love with the feeling of safety than anything."

"So you used me? To feel something?" I muttered. Though I wasn't angry anymore, I definitely wasn't over the feeling of betrayal. The loud cacophony of pots and pans echoing throughout the entire restaurant also wasn't helping with my thoughts.

"No, I would never do that,"  Morgan stressed, "I held on to what I had left of you because it calmed my mind."

Taking in her words, I sat still for a minute. "You didn't tell me because you were scared of your own feelings?"

Nodding, she looked at me with an expression of pure hope.

"Do you have any idea of which version of me you love? Did you kiss me because you liked me? The real me? Or did you kiss the old happy Alexandria?" I said, judging the situation.

The wheels of her mind clearly turning, she answered quickly, "I'm not sure who I love, but Lex, I promise you the kiss was real. I know I meant that. And I know those feelings were real, whether they were fueled by love or not."

Nodding, I stood up, hoping that if I moved, my brain might as well.

Standing up next to me, Morgan spoke, her voice laced with the concern I was used to, "Are you really not happy?"

Her words caught me off-guard with the force of a swinging bat. They were words that were unexpected and very irregular. No one asks the girl with the perfect life that question. Everyone always assumes I'm happy because I have everything I could ever ask for and more. Even Jayde doesn't ask me that. So, when those unfeigned words left her lips, I felt my throat tighten and my eyes prick with tears. The cozy atmosphere became too loud and too claustrophobic, and her words zeroed in on my heart.

Was I really not happy? It's a question that I generally don't ask myself too often. When was the last time I've been happy? Have I ever been happy? 

"Happiness is a societal construct," I said avoiding her question. I don't need to answer her worrying question. I don't owe her anything. She lied to me.

Standing up straighter, she looked me dead in my eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

Putting my guard up, I spat bitterly, "Just because we knew each other before doesn't give you the right to come into my life pretending to care. You don't know me. You don't get to act like you care."

I've let my guard down before and I got hurt. I let it down while hearing her pour her sad sob story out and I believed her stupidly. It won't happen again.

I could see her shoulders drop before a look of resilience came over her.

"No. Don't do this. You're putting your guard up, Lex. I know your habits whether you like it or not," she said stubbornly.

As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. I might have changed over the past 6 years, but not as much as I thought I would've, and Morgan knew that.

"Yeah, you're right, you do know me," I said blankly, "but clearly not as well as you thought. You broke it. You broke my trust. I know you remember when we made that pact to never lie to each other. All your memories of me are 'oh so clear,' right? So c'mon Morgs tell me, do you really think I can just MOVE ON so quickly? After you lied to my face for a week?" I could see her cheeks turning red, which they always did when she was about to cry, but I continued numbly. "What makes you think I should trust you?" I spat.

And with that, tears spilled over and ran down her face. Dropping back down into the booth, her shoulders slumped and her head down, she broke apart. I could hear her sorrowful cries over the noise of the kitchen, nearly cracking the hard shell I had made myself. Normally, hearing her in pain would have immediately gone to my heart and sucker-punched it, but I numbed myself to the point of being completely emotionally unavailable. My brain working hard against my heart, I walked away from her, leaving my question unanswered.