I stared back and forth between the two of them, confused, no noise except for a muffled sound of throwing up occurring from down the hall. Was this a code of honor thing? Maybe I was socially oblivious, but the code of honor kind of sucked. Wordlessly, I got a third glass out of the cupboard, filled it with water, and marched up the stairs and down the hallway, this time ignoring Taylor’s arm before going.
Finding the washroom down the hallway was easy; it was clear Morgan started throwing up before she made it to the toilet. The smell was… I ignored the smell. Gingerly, I took the last few steps into the washroom, hearing the sound of Morgan sniffling and… possibly crying softly. It was hard to tell. She was hunched over the toilet, occasionally dry-heaving, looking a bit like a mess even from the back.
I didn’t have much experience with alcohol. In fact, I didn’t have any. But I knew at a basic level what alcohol did, and tried to think hard about what she’d be going through, and based what I told her on that.
“It’s me. No need to turn around if you feel bad or anything. I brought you some water, it’ll be on the sink.” I let the glass settle on the porcelain sink with a ‘clink’ to demonstrate. “I just didn’t want you to be alone or feel too bad to see me. This could, uh, happen to anyone, and I don’t want you to feel bad.”
I let my words sink in. Morgan didn’t turn around, and it was really hard to figure out if I made the right call or the wrong one. Eventually, she got some toilet paper and wiped her mouth with it, throwing it in the toilet and flushing whatever was in there. Slowly, she turned around and faced me.
She looked a little worse than usual, sure, but… she was my girlfriend. And despite her pained expression and puffy ‘I’ve just been crying’ eyes, she was smiling at me. “Thank you for checking up on me, Quinn,” she told me softly. “Can you give me a second to just freshen up?”
I had an idea. “Yeah,” I told her, looking underneath the kitchen sink. Sure enough, sme all-purpose cleaner and paper towels greeted my eyes. I grabbed both and headed out of the washroom, determined, even being bold enough to shut the door behind me. While Morgan was in the washroom, I cleaned up any mess I found on the ground. By the time I was done, Morgan had just gotten out of the washroom, smelling overwhelmingly of mint.
“Oh my God, Quinn,” she commented, only then realizing what I did. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I figure this situation was terrible for you and I wanted to help my girlfriend?” I felt my heart rise in my chest. Something about calling her my girlfriend made me happy. The way she smiled when I said it made me more convinced.
“You are the fucking sweetest person,” she told me, grabbing my hand and holding it in hers.
“Oh, be careful, I still haven’t washed my hands since using the cleane-”
“I’ll be okay, I’ll take the risk,” she told me sarcastically. “This was, uh, really embarrassing for me. I’m sorry you had to see me like this.”
I stared at her, somewhat confused but also somewhat understanding. “Morgan, this was just you in a tricky situation. I don’t get why I would want to not see you right now. If I hear you’re not doing well, that should make me want to help, not stand by.”
“I don’t want you ever questioning why I like you again,” she laughed. “Can I kiss you? I brushed my teeth. Really thoroughly. I’d understand if you didn’t want that.”
“I do want that,” I told her, and as a gesture, I was the one who brought her in close. I was the one that brought my lips to hers.
I was happy to find that she did a good job; I tasted nothing but mint. We started off tame, but ended up passionately kissing each other in the doorway to her washroom, quickly going from sweet and kind to a sea of teenage hormones. When we broke off the kiss, despite her clear hangover, Morgan was looking at me with lust and vitality in her eyes.
“Do you have to go immediately?” Morgan asked. “Because I think a guy that is willing to be that helpful is pretty… sexy, and I want to show you how much I appreciate you.”
I smiled. “I think Taylor is my ride, so she’s the one that needs convincing,” I told her. “Or Doug. Whoever can give me a ride. I don’t mind staying a bit longer and…”
“And…?” Morgan teased.
“And,” I told her with a grin. She got the message and walked off down the stairs, leaving me in the hallway chuckling.
I couldn’t resist listening in on whatever conversation they’d have, though. I wasn’t above that. I tiptoed over to the banister and leaned over, closing my eyes and listening in.
“No,” Taylor’s flat voice met my ears. “Maybe try thinking of someone else for once. I’m hurting too.”
“Doesn’t that work though?” Morgan asked. “You can sit here and drink water, recover, do whatever you want. I just want to see him for a few more minutes.”
“Can I ask why you like him?” Doug interjected. “You’ve turned down guys that have more charisma in their left nut. How much chemistry could you possibly have if he just answers ‘um, yeah’ to everything?”
“Where the fuck did that come from?!” Morgan demanded.
“Woah, woah. Didn’t realize I had to like any boyfriend you bring home immediately.” Doug’s tone got sour.
“Taylor, help me out here,” Morgan pleaded.
I heard Taylor sigh. “He can be a sweet guy. Misguided, but sweet. Not really boyfriend material, but…”
“Not exactly a ten in the looks department either,” Doug dryly added. Ouch.
No one spoke for a bit. “You’re driving him home, Doug,” Morgan told him after a while, in the angriest voice I ever heard her use. “And you’re both going to be a lot fucking nicer to him from now on, and if you don’t, don’t bother fucking talking to me either. Taylor, go the fuck home if you’re going to be such a baby.” I could hear her stomping back to the stairs and tiptoed back to the hallway, grabbing the cleaning supplies again and pretending to go over the floor again. I looked up after positioning myself in time to see Morgan coming up the stairs.
“Oh, hey,” I casually said. “How’d it go?”
“Did you hear anything?”
“Nope, I was busy here,” I lied.
She broke into a sweet smile, as if nothing had happened. “Oh! We’re all good,” she lied back. “Doug was happy to offer you a ride home if Taylor decides she wants to go home soon. Her head is really hurting, so I wouldn’t blame her.”
“And how’s your head, are you alright?” I asked, standing up.
“I’m… yeah, I’m okay,” she replied uneasily. “Can I say something weird? It’s just on my mind right now.” She started to head into her room.
I followed. “Um, yeah, sure. What’s up?”
She closed the door behind us. “So, if we ever do break up…”
“I don’t like where this is going.”
“I wouldn’t like it either, but this is just a thing I want to say about you. I know high school does this whole totem pole thing, and a lot of people can make you think or feel you’re on the bottom.” She fidgeted with her hands. “If you were ever single, just… don’t presume that someone taking pity on you is being nice to you. It’s okay to have value in yourself. You’re really sweet, and you see the good in people a lot. I don’t like the idea of you getting taken advantage of by some toxic girl.”