Fragile Hearts

21: Can We Be Friends?

I know I should just leave Morgan alone, but there's something so innocent and fragile about her that tugs at my heart. Against my better judgment, I show up uninvited at her dorm. My heart breaks to see her in that wheelchair. She's been in it for years and obviously adjusted, but it doesn't change how rotten I feel about it. Accusative thoughts start hammering me like a punching bag as I lift away from the wall and watch her approach. Clearly, she isn't happy that I'm here. If I didn't know better, I'd think she knows about my role in her car accident.

I greet her and invite her to join me for a cup of coffee at The Coffee Mug. I tell her I need to ask a favor. Of course, I knew she wouldn't go alone with me; that's why I asked Lucy to join us.

"Yoo-hoo," calls Lucy.

Her timing is perfect.

Between Lucy and me, we convince Morgan to go to the coffee shop. For some reason, Morgan's gaze is always sliding to my tats. I don't know if they scare her or fascinate her. I want to tell her my bad boy days are long gone, but that would probably make things worse.

When I go to the counter to order our drinks I see Lucy leaning toward Morgan and whispering something. Morgan rolls her eyes and I wonder what Lucy said. They're both smiling, so that's a good sign.

After I return to the table, Lucy starts telling me about her favorite I Love Lucy show and I go along with the charade to make Morgan comfortable. It seems to work when she smiles at me. I love her smile; it's sweet and shy and sexy, all in one package. When I realize the direction of my thoughts, I jerk them back to reality. The reality of the situation is that Morgan is in a wheelchair because of my stupid decision all those years ago. I fight the all-consuming guilt.

I say, "Morgan, I do a lot of tutoring, both on campus and off, and the favor I need is for you to cover for me with a ten year old girl I'm helping with math. Her lesson is next Tuesday at four. She's got a high IQ and already beginning algebra. The reason I'm asking is because I have a job interview that I don't want to miss." I hasten to add that I'll pay her the same amount of money that I make.

By her reaction, it's clear she doesn't want to tutor Kaylee, but I'm persistent. Lucy tries to convince her, too, but she argues with her friend. I almost grin at her spunkiness. Finally, she says, "Okay. You've both made me feel so bad I'll do it."

I can't help but smile. The words slip out before I can stop them, "That's my girl."

On Saturday, I show up at her dorm to see how it went. I already talked to Kaylee and she gave me a blow-by-blow account of the tutoring session. Seems Kaylee got Morgan to loosen up long enough to show off her pink bedroom. I grin to myself because Kaylee's already taken me on the tour. She uses tours of her house as leverage to get out of her lessons for as long as possible.

Morgan opens her door and her eyes widen before glancing at the snake on my forearm. I grin. "So, how did it go with Kaylee?"

Now Morgan is frowning at me as she gives a quick account.

I ask, "Are you going to invite me in? Something smells good."

"Microwave enchiladas. But, believe me, they're not very tasty."

"Well, pop another one in for me."

Morgan looks like she wants to shut the door in my face, so I push the door wider and lean down, placing a hand on the controller of her chair and rolling her backwards. She puts her hands on my chest and pushes. I suck a breath at her touch, but she doesn't seem to notice. Anger increases the pink color of her skin and her eyes flash when she rolls away from me. "Why are you here?" she asks bluntly.

"I came to find out how things went with Kaylee."

"They went fine. She's exceptionally smart and has a better understanding of algebra. Now you can leave."

I hear the microwave ding and rather than respond, I walk to it. Finally, I ask the question I'm not sure I want to hear the answer to. "Why do you dislike me so much?"

She stumbles over her words, "I-I don't dislike you."

Now I turn and study her expression, seeking the truth.

She says, "I just don't understand why you keep showing up." She looks like she's about to cry. "Look, I'm not exactly your kind of girl."

Her response angers me and I ask her to tell me what my kind of girl is.

What she says angers me even more. "You're a hot guy. You date beautiful women. My looks are just passable. And since I'm in a wheelchair, you obviously don't want sex. So just tell me what's going on."

I want to shout that I think she's beautiful and courageous, but instead I tell her she has some weird values. The fact that she thinks I'm so shallow hurts.

Before I rethink what I'm about to say, I tell her, "You know, I thought we could be friends. I don't give a shit whether you're in a wheelchair, whether you're beautiful, or if you're an alien from another planet. What I saw in you was a woman of character, someone I could hang out with. I've dated a lot of women, and frankly, I don't give a fuck about the latest fashion fad, movie star, or hit song."

She blinks and looks astounded, but I don't stop there, I keep talking. "And do you want to know why I really asked you to tutor Kaylee?" I still don't wait for an answer. "She's a lonely little girl who needs a friend. Her kidneys are failing and soon she'll be on dialysis. All the money in the world hasn't found a donor that matches her biology. Sure, you're in a wheelchair, but pick your poison, Morgan. Would you rather have the wheelchair or kidney failure?"

Disgusted with myself for speaking so frankly, I walk out the door. I get halfway down the walkway before turning around and returning to the door frame, leaning against it. I wait for Morgan to see me. Finally, she turns around and I can see tears welling in her eyes, then she says something that melts my heart. "Would you like a microwave enchilada while I eat crow?"

I'm falling for this girl and I know it will only lead to heartbreak if she learns the truth about me.

I tell her I just want to be friends and she rolls forward, stretching out her hand. She says, "Done." I grasp her small hand and feel the full force of my guilt.