Blinded by Limerence

47 | You, Me, and the Boys

Morgan

"So—that was some weird shit we talked about in the garage." I let out a sigh before flopping onto my bed.

"Yeah," laughed Addie in agreement, her muscles tense for some reason. She took a seat at my desk and slumped down the chair. "I'm exhausted."

I nodded. "Yeah—me, too," I answered. "Hey, how're you on applications?"

At my question, Addie heaved a heavy, dramatic sigh and tossed her head back, her ash-brown hair flicking backwards, and that answered my question more than words could've. 

"M, you have no idea how stressed I've been," she said. "Like, you'd think that college applications are the easy part, and college is the real worry, but why isn't that the case?"

"So—I take it you're not done?" I laughed.

"No, Morgan, I'm not done," she remarked with a mocking tone, groaned, then pushed her hair back in frustration. "You?"

I grinned proudly. "All done. I applied to all the Ivies, though I probably won't get in—I don't know how someone who doesn't know what 'resolution of vectors' is could—then I did a bunch of backup colleges."

"Where d'you plan to go?"

"Middleton," I said. "I'd kill to go there."

Addie flashed me a reassuring smile. "You'll get in," she said. "Of course you will, M."

I returned her warm smile. "And—don't worry, A," I said, "if you don't get into the colleges you applied to—it's not the end of the world—I'm sure your dad could just buy you your way in."

"Morgan!" Addie screeched, hopping off the chair and flinging herself onto the foot of the bed. She laughed, "How dare you?" She slouched, grabbed me by my wrist, and started hitting my upper arm, forcing me to endure her hits. 

"Or—y'know—I can smuggle you into my dorm," I giggled, amused at my own joke, despite being in pain; I'm sure Addie's hits would be leaving a mark for tomorrow. 

Suddenly, Addie stopped bullying me, and her back shot up, a wild look in her gray, gray eyes. "Hey, you know what," she said, a smile that made me beyond nervous creeping up her petite face, "we should go out."

Inwardly, I sighed in relief—that didn't seem too bad; after all, I hang out with Addie all the time. "A, you're already out. You're here."

"No, I meant like out out," she replied, the crazed look still in her eyes, but I wasn't sure I got what she was saying. "You, me, and the boys," she added as though saying this would clear things up. 

Bewildered, a look of confusion flashed across my face. "The boys?" I echoed, raising a brow curiously.

"Archer, Chase, and Trevor," answered Addie promptly.

Though I was still a bit lost, at the mention of both Archer's and Trevor's name, I instantly shook my head no: I didn't need more information to tell me that this was just a disaster waiting to happen. 

"Nuh-uh—no way," I said, eyes wide in alarm.

She groaned. "Oh, come on, M." She crossed her arms over her chest, then, in contrast, her face lit up like it's never done before, and she suggested that we all do karaoke. "It'll be fun!" she beamed. "Besides—we need the break."

"I don't know, A," I said. "I'm just not sure it's a good idea, with everything that's happened between me and Trevor—and adding Archer to the list? There's just no telling what I'll do."

"You got some self-control, don't you?" retorted Addie, though we both knew I had the self-control of a pea. "Please? I really need this." She then widened her eyes, presumably to create the puppy eyes effect to force me into saying yes—but instead of looking pitiful, she looked rather threatening, which, frankly, worked as good as any puppy eyes could.

"Oh, stop it," I laughed, pushing her face which had subtly inched closer away from my own. "You know that won't work. You just look stupid."

"Okay, fine," she huffed, "but you see how desperate I am?" 

As if an idea had just popped into her head, she exclaimed suddenly, "I'll be your buffer! So that nothing will happen between you and Trevor—and as for Archer, well, whatever you do, please take Trevor's feelings into consideration."

"Trevor's feelings?"

Addie shrugged. "Yeah, he's crazy about you, isn't he?" she said with a matter-of-fact tone. "So—imagine the pain of seeing you, the very person he fancies, goofing around with Archer, one of his best friends. It's like—" She paused, bringing her index finger to her chin as if she was really thinking. "No, actually, it's exactly like you and Hanna and Archer."

"Okay, fair point," I deadpanned, "but see—even you think it's a bad idea."

At that, Addie grinned mischievously, the very sight of the way she smiled making me want to run as fast as I could in the opposite direction—but if I did that, I'd just slam right into a wall.

 "You only live once, M."

But when Addie realized just how against this I was, she tried again, "Besides, it's winter break—the perfect time to go out. Don't you want—like—a mini-break in our main break before going back to school in a couple of days?"

Addie knew she almost had me, so she brought it home: "And—wouldn't this be the perfect excuse to hang out with my brother? I mean—yes—you can't really do anything 'cause I'd be there, and Trevor would be there—but still. Won't being in the same breathing space be enough? The old you, the pre-Collin Morgan, would immediately jump on this opportunity, y'know."

I rolled my eyes and groaned; I hated it when Addie was right. "Ugh—okay, fine," I gave in, mainly because I knew then and there that Addie wouldn't drop this. "You win."

Instantly, she burst into a fit of squeals and other happy, high-frequency sounds only dogs could hear and enveloped me in such a big hug that the regret I had the moment I agreed started to ebb away. She cheered loudly, "You won't regret this, M—I promise."

"I'm sure I will, but okay," I said shakily as the brunette jovially squeezed me tighter.

After what seemed like a good minute, Addie hopped off the bed and gathered her things. "I have to head home, but I'll text you, okay?" She grinned, waved goodbye, and was instantly out the door.

It was all I could do but to ignore the funny feeling in my gut hounding at me, telling me this was a bad idea, like I didn't already know it.