Missed Connections (59 page)

Will had never seen nor heard from him again.

Until now.

Before he knew what he was doing, Will closed the distance between them and embraced his friend. Morgan tensed beneath him, clearly not expecting such a show of affection from a guy he had insulted not half an hour ago. A few seconds passed before Will felt Morgan hesitantly embrace him back. He smelled... not pleasant, and was dirtier than Will's backyard, but for the first time, Will couldn't be bothered to care.

He had found his friend again.

Will laughed as he stepped back, keeping a gentle hand on Morgan's shoulder, not wanting to let go in case Morgan disappeared again. He looked at Morgan, noticing his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, but figuring he was just in as much shock as Will.

"You made me look like a fool," Will teased as his laughter died down leaving him grinning like a loon.

Morgan chuckled, the first positive emotion Will had seen from him since their first encounter today. "No, you did that all on your own."

Will shot him an amused glare, trying to keep his face stoic but failing miserably as he smiled again.

However he sobered quickly at the reminder of the incident. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"Didn't think there would be a reason to," Morgan shrugged, looking away as though ashamed. But what he had to be ashamed of, Will didn't know—

Oh. Right.

Will cleared his throat as he was suddenly hit by a wave of guilt. "Sorry for the way I treated you earlier—"

"Do you talk to everyone that way?" Morgan interrupted, a frown lining his sculpted face. Blue eyes pierced Will's as if he could see into his soul and bring forth the truth from their depths. And Will found himself unable to look away, drowning in their endless sea.

Fingers snapped in front of Will's eyes, jolting him back to reality. Morgan was looking at him now with an expectant expression.

"What?" Will asked completely forgetting the question that had been asked.

"The Will I knew in elementary school stood up
against
kids like that."

Will shrugged. "Yeah well people change, grow up, move on…" he trailed off, suddenly very aware of where they were. This wasn't the best part of town. Impoverished working class lived here in residential homes and apartments so run-down it was a miracle some were still standing. Most people could hardly make ends meet. Some, as was obvious by the line that had formed outside the soup kitchen, were unable to at all.

He looked at Morgan again, really looked at him this time. Yes, he could definitely see the same face and features, now more defined, on the boy in front of him:  skinny, bright blue defiant eyes, pale skin. But there was a certain joy missing. His posture, though still upright, had lost some of its pride, its dignity when he was younger, as if a weight had settled firmly upon it. And despite the fact that he tried to hide it, Morgan looked utterly exhausted.

That didn't even account for his attire. Faded ripped jeans hung low on his hips beneath a gray shirt—or at least Will thought it was supposed to be gray—under two different jackets, all of which Morgan was practically swimming in. A navy-blue carpenter's jacket with ripped cuffs poked out underneath a dark brown trench with equally ripped cuffs that was falling apart at the seams, its lining prodding through the gaps. Black fingerless gloves adorned his hands, nails dirt-encrusted and chipped. The only thing that he wore that seemed in somewhat decent shape was the beanie on his head and the worn brown boots on his feet. At least they didn't have any holes.

All in all, it looked like Morgan had seen better days.

"What happened to you Morgs?" Will asked, puzzled at how truly awful he looked. "I thought you were living with your grandfather?"

"I, uh... I was," Morgan answered hesitantly, still looking like he wanted to bolt or punch Will. Probably both. He paused for a second before finally he shrugged, coming to some decision and said, "He passed away."

Oh. That explained a lot. Losing two family members, two guardians, was not easy. And if Will remembered correctly, now that it was all coming back to him, Morgan didn't have much family to begin with.

He flashed Morgan an apologetic look, the feeling foreign upon his face but sincere. He didn't know what it was about Morgan, but he made Will want to revert back to the way he had been, caring, protective, loyal. It was as if all boundaries and differences in status that had been drilled into Will's head by his father were forgotten when it came to Morgan.

They could just... be. Like the old days.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said, shocking even himself with the sincerity in his voice. "Was it not too long ago or…?"

"Two years. Heart attack. He had a bad habit of smoking cigars and uh," Morgan shrugged as if he wasn't talking about losing his grandfather, a man that Will knew Morgan had been close to even before he moved in with him. "He paid the price."

"Yeah, I remember him. Always thought he smelled a little funky," Will chuckled halfheartedly, seeing the thinly veiled sorrow that marred Morgan's face. He felt the sudden urge to make that sorrow disappear, to make sure it never again plagued Morgan, but he ignored it. They had only just reunited after nearly ten years apart. He couldn't just force them to pick up where they left off.

Will remembered the one time he met Morgan's grandfather when they were both six. He had been a cheery man with graying brown hair, a scruff that framed his mouth, and a potbelly that had rivaled Porky the Pig's. Will had always thought the man was in need of a bath. No one smelled that off but Ned Simmons, with his greasy hair and dry skin who sat three rows back Mrs. Sparks's first grade class. 

Will smiled at the memory. But he quickly sobered again, confusion clouding his face once more.

"So where are you living now? Why are you... here?" he asked, gesturing back toward the soup kitchen and realizing too late that this might be an extremely sore subject. Even though he would never admit it out loud, Will knew he could be an idiot sometimes. Just as well, Morgan probably wouldn't answer anyway.

But Morgan only paused, eyes downturned as a sheepish look crossed his face, before saying softly, "I uh... it's a… place off Fuller, between Fourth and Fifth Street…"

Surprise filled Will's mind, no doubt also clearly evident upon his face. He really hadn't expected Morgan to answer, let alone say that. "Wow, your own place. That's cool. Is it nice?"

"No," Morgan responded immediately before quickly backtracking. "I mean, yeah. Haven't you seen it?" A smirk played across Morgan's face then, his eyes glinting with mischief. "It's the big brick mansion there, three stories, six bedrooms. It's hard to miss."

"Bet you mine's still bigger," Will stated, falling back on arrogance automatically in the face of such sarcasm.

"I doubt that," Morgan murmured as his smirk intensified. Will had a feeling they weren't talking about living quarters anymore.

Heat rushed to his cheeks and he quickly looked away. What on earth was wrong with him? He had always known he was either bi or pan—he hadn't really had enough experience to figure out which and never really cared to; he liked what he liked and that was it—never had any reason to hide it, despite it being a bit of a touchy subject around his father. Out-of-sight, out-of-mind seemed to be his father's motto there and Will stuck to it for the most part.

But this was Morgan, his best friend since they'd begun school together. Yeah, they had grown and matured since the last time they had seen each other, filled out in
all
the right places and had his eyes always been so
blue
... but still, he didn't feel that way about Morgan.

Right?

He quickly pulled himself together, huffing haughtily and pretending he hadn't heard.

"Do you want to go get dinner maybe?" Will asked, changing the subject quickly before his mind could wander any further. "I noticed you didn't really eat all that much so, uh, you must be hungry."

Morgan looked a little affronted at that. "Alright Will, what's your angle? What is it you want from me?"

Will took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I just thought we could use the time to catch up, that's all."

Morgan looked at him skeptically, clearly not buying it but after a few minutes more persuasion, Will was leading Morgan to his car.

"Wow, uh, that's some... car," Morgan muttered as Will pulled out his keys and approached the driver's side door.

"Ferrari F12berlinetta. An eighteenth birthday gift from my father," he stated proudly, glancing over to see the look of awe and jealousy that most people wore when they set eyes upon his prized possession. But instead, Morgan looked... pained, standing before the car as if it had somehow done him wrong. Or, no, as if
he
had somehow done it wrong. And was that a flash of shame? Embarrassment?

"Come on, Morgs. It won't bite, I promise," Will said, trying to wipe that look off his face. It was one he was beginning to really dislike even in the short time he had been in Morgan's presence. It just seemed so... wrong upon his face.

Morgan laughed halfheartedly, "I'm not so sure about that. It does after all, belong to you."

Ouch. If he hadn't before, Will certainly regretted his words by the table now. But he brushed it off, letting out a short bark of laughter and jerking his head in the direction of his car before climbing in.

A few moments later, Morgan hesitantly joined him.

The diner Will took him to was one that that they used to go to as children. Morgan's mom would take them after either a particularly hard day of school or a light day of work—she had been a teacher at the private school Will attended, making it possible for Morgan to attend as well for free. They sat down at their usual spot in the corner by the old jukebox and the guitar that was supposedly signed by Elvis. It was strange being back but also felt like no time had passed at all as small talk and awkward silences quickly turned into reminiscing about the old days and bantering over the smallest things.

Food was ordered and inhaled, Will claiming he couldn't eat another bite after just ten minutes and would Morgan like the rest. He was pretty sure Morgan could see right through his façade but he ate the rest of Will's fries anyway just so "no food went to waste. There are starving people out there, Will." It was said lightly, with a hint of teasing, but Will's mood instantly turned.

Starving people out there. Like Morgan. Will didn't like that thought one bit.

He wasn't used to this, the feeling of caring and worrying about another person, and yet Morgan brought it out of him like no one had ever done. Yes, he had friends whose company he enjoyed and hung out with but he didn't
care
for them. Not like this. Not in the same way. It was deep and... emotional, like he couldn't bear to lose this person he had lost once already. And he realized it was something he had felt from the second he had figured out exactly who Morgan was. The old feelings and protectiveness from when he was little came shooting back to the surface, as if no time had passed at all, but different. Will didn't even know how it was different, it just was.

The conversation slowly turned more serious, with Will and Morgan switching off asking questions about what had happened in the time they were apart and how life was now. Will eagerly answered any and all of Morgan's questions about school, his father, whatever—noticing that Morgan scowled or raised his eyebrows in surprise at some of the comments Will made about others—whereas Morgan was hesitant to answer Will's. At least at first. He was ashamed, Will could tell, trying to hide behind a wall of cheeky witty comebacks, comments, and insults that directed attention away from himself. Will could only assume he had developed the habit from his time living on the streets, though his mouth had always been a problem, even before. But Morgan still had a bit of pride about him, despite his predicament, that sparked and glowed in his eyes where the wall couldn't reach. It was the openness and the
real
Morgan that lay behind the snarky exterior that Will remembered and treasured most. True, he had always had a mouth on him and it was that mouth that had gotten Morgan into trouble most when they were children, his inability to back down from a challenge even one he knew he couldn't win physically. Oh, but he could win verbally, no problem. Now that part was all defensive, harsh around the edges, protecting the  boy that still lingered within. And Will only saw that boy, the real Morgan a couple of times during their meal at the diner.

It just made him hungry for more.

God, when had he become such a softie? Not an hour ago he had looked down at people like Morgan, upon even Morgan himself before Will knew who he was. What the hell had changed so fast?

But he knew the answer to that too, deep down. He knew that it was because Morgan was someone he knew, someone he had cared for, someone he
still
cared for. It was
Morgan
for crying out loud. Happy, loving, carefree Morgan, his best friend, time apart be damned. Will had been heartbroken when he had disappeared, his world completely changed without the black-haired boy always beside him. He thought he had lost him forever; seeing Morgan again, especially in such a state reeled that old Will back. The one who cared about and protected his friends, the one who worried about them and not just himself. The one who stood up against what he thought was wrong especially if he had a way to change it.

And this he could definitely change. For Morgan.

When the waitress came by and handed over the bill, Will shook his head at Morgan's offer to pay him back someday and just said, "Your mom always treated me whenever we came here. It's about time I repaid her."

Morgan, with a thank you and a small smile, accepted. Will could tell, however, that he did so reluctantly.

But that, Will learned, was just how Morgan was now. He didn't like taking things for free and only came to the soup kitchen in order to claim a meal and give most of it to a latecomer. Over the next week, as he continued to volunteer at the soup kitchen, Will got to learn all about the new Morgan. They hung out after the kitchen closed for the day, wandering through the nearby park or down the street, or on particularly busy days at the kitchen, at the diner. He discovered that Morgan's cheeky exterior could be brought down easily with a bit of poking, prodding, and gentle touches. His time on the streets had hardened him somewhat but not enough to change his spirit entirely.