"I feel so bad! I mean your baby sister was so cute in the pictures,"
Morgan said truthfully. "I don't feel right here. I didn't know her.
Everyone's staring at me. They don't think I should be here, that's totally
what they're thinking."
"Please don't be a brat about this," Cory begged her. "After all, I know you aren't." She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him to this. "I'm not? Really, cause everyone thinks I am since I lived in L.A. for so long."
"Two years isn't that long," Cory told her. "It was really long for me. You know? I mean I didn't fit in. Maybe that's why I came back. I, I feel like I fit in here, you know?" Morgan said. She didn't know really what to say, so the "you know" parts really helped her add stuff to say.
It was still raining and everyone was packed into the Digital Hang- Out. It was sort of weird; the only people in there other than the people in mourning were annoying optimists who were dressed in pastels.
"Oh, are you two a couple? Aren't you Amy's little boy? She would have been so proud to know you two were a couple. You make the cutest I've ever seen personally," an old woman said. "Thanks, but." Morgan tried to tell her the truth, but Cory stepped on her foot. "Yeah, we are. I'm sure she would be. Thank you so much."
"Why'd you do that?" Morgan asked. "Why'd you lie to her?"
"I didn't think you'd mind. Besides, Topanga isn't here. I told her, but Topanga's not here. You are, though. Despite a little complaint, at least you came."
What was he trying to say? Morgan thought. Was he trying to say that she was better than Topanga? Morgan admired Topanga, so if he was saying what Morgan thought he was saying, she sure appreciated it.
When they were finally allowed to go home (finally), Morgan sighed as she got into jeans. No one else she knew would wear black for two months, so neither should she. Plus, she would be going to bed in thirty minutes, so what was the point?
It was still raining, but not as hard. It was drizzling but Morgan thought it might get harder. She loved rain. Absolutely loved it. She didn't know why. Maybe because it was a sunny day when the only people she cared about died. Or maybe it was because the rain just made her feel at home for some strange reason. It was calming to her.
She couldn't sleep, so she sat awake, designing for hours. She had only designed five outfits before she realized it was almost three am. She decided to go to the lobby for coffee. After all, she knew they served it.
Maybe it was because she was wearing hip huggers and a tight spaghetti tank, but it seemed like the freaks and weirdos who were still awake kept looking at her. "Shut up," she said. "Don't look at me like that."
She fixed herself coffee and sat down. Everyone left (they were done anyway) and she was alone. It was kind of creepy.
"Morgan! What are you doing here?" he asked when he saw her. "Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" she asked.
"Me neither. I don't know what it was." He said. "I can usually sleep during the rain. I love rain."
"Really? That's so cool! Me too!" she said. "Topanga doesn't," he told her. "You gotta get over Topanga. She's coming home."
"I know," he said sadly. "Why are you so sad? Most people I know would be happy if they knew someone they loved was coming home."
Cory sat at her table, trying to think of a way to explain. He wanted it to be subtle, yet obvious. Not so blatant but obvious in a way that he might love her instead of Topanga.
"You know how sometimes you think you feel one way about something, but then something else happens, and you feel definitely about it?"
"Mmm, yeah, but I don't think it's the same thing you're talking about. Like, I used to love Nutter Butters. But then I tried Oreos with peanut butter, and I like that a lot better. But by your seriousness, that's probably nothing what you're talking about."
"It's close," he offered not wanting to make her feel totally stupid. "But I was talking more about emotions."
"Emotions. Yeah, yeah, I've felt that," she said. "Really? How?" he said, suddenly interested.
"Mm, there was this guy. Well, he's still alive. But you know. Turns out he has a girl in his life and he doesn't need me at all. Still, you know he's pretty nice to me. But hey, I guess you can't really blame him can you."
"Were you talking about me?" he asked her. She just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Are you still in love with him?" he asked.
She nodded slowly. "I guess. I mean no matter what happens, you still feel the same way about a person. Or at least, I guess you could. Things might change."
"I thought you said you'd never been in love," he told her. "Well, I guess I sort of didn't want to admit it. You know, it's really stupid and all."
"I don't think it is," he told her. "I think it's really interesting. Morgan Mendoza, in love with someone. Imagine that. What's his name?"
Okay, he'd backed her into a wall and cornered her. "It doesn't really matter, does it? Besides, he's not exactly the best guy in the world, so if I told you his name, it would really cause controversy. He's sort of in the witness protection program, but you didn't hear it from me." They both laughed softly. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"No, but I want to," he said. "You're going to kiss me now, aren't you?" she asked him. "Uh-huh," he said. Need I go into more details?
As Morgan finally went to sleep, she wasn't sure what was going on. She thought Cory was in love with Topanga. But if he was, how come he'd kissed her three times already? Or four, if you counted the time two years ago, but Morgan wasn't counting that at the moment.
Cory too was wrestling with his feelings. He couldn't figure out what was going on. But one thing was serious; he wasn't going to wait around for Topanga to come home from her "business trip" in Seattle. He was going to get on with his life, like he hoped she had.
Morgan didn't know what time it was in Seattle, but she most certainly hoped it wasn't 3 am. She called the hotel anyway. They said Topanga was staying in room A1302. That was funny, the smeared number she'd written down on the napkin said A1303. What did that mean?
Why did Cory feel like he was in love with Morgan instead? Well, she was nice, she was sweet, she knew a lot of weird and interesting trivia, she had talent, she was adorable, she had a heart-melting smile, she loved animals, she had style, he felt like he could talk to her about anything, and she was beautiful. But.Topanga was most of those things. Or at least, he thought she was. But what kind of person goes on a business trip and never comes back? Morgan came back, Topanga didn't. This was all coming clear now.
The next day, Morgan tried to avoid Cory. But she decided she had to tell him what she found out. "Cory I called the hospital last night! They said Topanga was staying in a completely different room."
"Which one?" he asked. "One before hers. A1302. They said the person who was staying there was under the name of Roberts, but hey, you know, it could be anybody." Morgan explained, not wanting to jump to conclusions before she got a chance to know the real story.
"Oh, okay, thanks," Cory, said. "What's the matter? It seems like weren't paying attention at all." Morgan wondered.
"I'm kind of preoccupied right now," he explained. "Oh, with what?" she asked. "With.stuff. Stuff you probably could care less about." He told her.
"I care about stuff," she said in her defense. "I know you do, but, it's hard to explain, you know?" He didn't know how to explain it, so that wasn't a total lie.
He was lucky - she understood. "Okay, well, see you later, then." She walked off, completely confused. She understood the hard-to-explain part, but she didn't know what was so hard to explain.
She tried four times to reach Topanga, and when she finally did, she was nervous. "Hi, Topanga? Yeah, I've been trying to reach you. Where are you? Cory's been wondering when you'll come home. Hmm, Will Roberts, huh. Okay, well, I'll tell him. Yeah.okay.well, have a nice life, okay.yeah, bye."
Topanga Lawrence-Matthews-Roberts. But wait. There was a law against polygamy or something like that wasn't there.
Morgan headed down to Shawn's apartment faster than she ever had walked anywhere in her life. "What have you been hiding from Cory?" she said when he answered the door.
"So you found out, huh." He said. It wasn't a question. "Yes, I did, and I think whatever you've been hiding isn't exactly what I'd call best- friend-material. What have you been hiding from Cory?" Morgan asked.
"I think you already know," Shawn told her. "I want you to tell me what you've been hiding from Cory!"
"I truthfully don't know," he said. "Really, huh. Well then does the name Will Roberts mean anything to you?"
Shawn studied Morgan for a long time, but she kept her ground. "Come in," he sighed finally. He let her in and took out a box. "I've been hiding these for awhile because I thought she'd change her mind, but I guess not."
He pulled the box out and inside was a lifetime of paperwork. "He has to fill all these out? If they have to fill all this stuff out, then why does everyone get divorced? Don't they ever get writer's cramp?" Morgan asked, flipping through the papers.
"They don't have to fill all of them out," Shawn told her, "just sign something, I think. I've been trying to figure it out without letting Angela know, but I just can't.
"I'm going to show these to him," she said. "I'm going to, and I will." She took the entire shoebox and walked out of the door with it.
Shawn didn't even try to stop her. There was nothing anyone could do to her now.
"Please don't be a brat about this," Cory begged her. "After all, I know you aren't." She smiled and raised an eyebrow at him to this. "I'm not? Really, cause everyone thinks I am since I lived in L.A. for so long."
"Two years isn't that long," Cory told her. "It was really long for me. You know? I mean I didn't fit in. Maybe that's why I came back. I, I feel like I fit in here, you know?" Morgan said. She didn't know really what to say, so the "you know" parts really helped her add stuff to say.
It was still raining and everyone was packed into the Digital Hang- Out. It was sort of weird; the only people in there other than the people in mourning were annoying optimists who were dressed in pastels.
"Oh, are you two a couple? Aren't you Amy's little boy? She would have been so proud to know you two were a couple. You make the cutest I've ever seen personally," an old woman said. "Thanks, but." Morgan tried to tell her the truth, but Cory stepped on her foot. "Yeah, we are. I'm sure she would be. Thank you so much."
"Why'd you do that?" Morgan asked. "Why'd you lie to her?"
"I didn't think you'd mind. Besides, Topanga isn't here. I told her, but Topanga's not here. You are, though. Despite a little complaint, at least you came."
What was he trying to say? Morgan thought. Was he trying to say that she was better than Topanga? Morgan admired Topanga, so if he was saying what Morgan thought he was saying, she sure appreciated it.
When they were finally allowed to go home (finally), Morgan sighed as she got into jeans. No one else she knew would wear black for two months, so neither should she. Plus, she would be going to bed in thirty minutes, so what was the point?
It was still raining, but not as hard. It was drizzling but Morgan thought it might get harder. She loved rain. Absolutely loved it. She didn't know why. Maybe because it was a sunny day when the only people she cared about died. Or maybe it was because the rain just made her feel at home for some strange reason. It was calming to her.
She couldn't sleep, so she sat awake, designing for hours. She had only designed five outfits before she realized it was almost three am. She decided to go to the lobby for coffee. After all, she knew they served it.
Maybe it was because she was wearing hip huggers and a tight spaghetti tank, but it seemed like the freaks and weirdos who were still awake kept looking at her. "Shut up," she said. "Don't look at me like that."
She fixed herself coffee and sat down. Everyone left (they were done anyway) and she was alone. It was kind of creepy.
"Morgan! What are you doing here?" he asked when he saw her. "Couldn't sleep. What's your excuse?" she asked.
"Me neither. I don't know what it was." He said. "I can usually sleep during the rain. I love rain."
"Really? That's so cool! Me too!" she said. "Topanga doesn't," he told her. "You gotta get over Topanga. She's coming home."
"I know," he said sadly. "Why are you so sad? Most people I know would be happy if they knew someone they loved was coming home."
Cory sat at her table, trying to think of a way to explain. He wanted it to be subtle, yet obvious. Not so blatant but obvious in a way that he might love her instead of Topanga.
"You know how sometimes you think you feel one way about something, but then something else happens, and you feel definitely about it?"
"Mmm, yeah, but I don't think it's the same thing you're talking about. Like, I used to love Nutter Butters. But then I tried Oreos with peanut butter, and I like that a lot better. But by your seriousness, that's probably nothing what you're talking about."
"It's close," he offered not wanting to make her feel totally stupid. "But I was talking more about emotions."
"Emotions. Yeah, yeah, I've felt that," she said. "Really? How?" he said, suddenly interested.
"Mm, there was this guy. Well, he's still alive. But you know. Turns out he has a girl in his life and he doesn't need me at all. Still, you know he's pretty nice to me. But hey, I guess you can't really blame him can you."
"Were you talking about me?" he asked her. She just looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Are you still in love with him?" he asked.
She nodded slowly. "I guess. I mean no matter what happens, you still feel the same way about a person. Or at least, I guess you could. Things might change."
"I thought you said you'd never been in love," he told her. "Well, I guess I sort of didn't want to admit it. You know, it's really stupid and all."
"I don't think it is," he told her. "I think it's really interesting. Morgan Mendoza, in love with someone. Imagine that. What's his name?"
Okay, he'd backed her into a wall and cornered her. "It doesn't really matter, does it? Besides, he's not exactly the best guy in the world, so if I told you his name, it would really cause controversy. He's sort of in the witness protection program, but you didn't hear it from me." They both laughed softly. "You don't believe me, do you?"
"No, but I want to," he said. "You're going to kiss me now, aren't you?" she asked him. "Uh-huh," he said. Need I go into more details?
As Morgan finally went to sleep, she wasn't sure what was going on. She thought Cory was in love with Topanga. But if he was, how come he'd kissed her three times already? Or four, if you counted the time two years ago, but Morgan wasn't counting that at the moment.
Cory too was wrestling with his feelings. He couldn't figure out what was going on. But one thing was serious; he wasn't going to wait around for Topanga to come home from her "business trip" in Seattle. He was going to get on with his life, like he hoped she had.
Morgan didn't know what time it was in Seattle, but she most certainly hoped it wasn't 3 am. She called the hotel anyway. They said Topanga was staying in room A1302. That was funny, the smeared number she'd written down on the napkin said A1303. What did that mean?
Why did Cory feel like he was in love with Morgan instead? Well, she was nice, she was sweet, she knew a lot of weird and interesting trivia, she had talent, she was adorable, she had a heart-melting smile, she loved animals, she had style, he felt like he could talk to her about anything, and she was beautiful. But.Topanga was most of those things. Or at least, he thought she was. But what kind of person goes on a business trip and never comes back? Morgan came back, Topanga didn't. This was all coming clear now.
The next day, Morgan tried to avoid Cory. But she decided she had to tell him what she found out. "Cory I called the hospital last night! They said Topanga was staying in a completely different room."
"Which one?" he asked. "One before hers. A1302. They said the person who was staying there was under the name of Roberts, but hey, you know, it could be anybody." Morgan explained, not wanting to jump to conclusions before she got a chance to know the real story.
"Oh, okay, thanks," Cory, said. "What's the matter? It seems like weren't paying attention at all." Morgan wondered.
"I'm kind of preoccupied right now," he explained. "Oh, with what?" she asked. "With.stuff. Stuff you probably could care less about." He told her.
"I care about stuff," she said in her defense. "I know you do, but, it's hard to explain, you know?" He didn't know how to explain it, so that wasn't a total lie.
He was lucky - she understood. "Okay, well, see you later, then." She walked off, completely confused. She understood the hard-to-explain part, but she didn't know what was so hard to explain.
She tried four times to reach Topanga, and when she finally did, she was nervous. "Hi, Topanga? Yeah, I've been trying to reach you. Where are you? Cory's been wondering when you'll come home. Hmm, Will Roberts, huh. Okay, well, I'll tell him. Yeah.okay.well, have a nice life, okay.yeah, bye."
Topanga Lawrence-Matthews-Roberts. But wait. There was a law against polygamy or something like that wasn't there.
Morgan headed down to Shawn's apartment faster than she ever had walked anywhere in her life. "What have you been hiding from Cory?" she said when he answered the door.
"So you found out, huh." He said. It wasn't a question. "Yes, I did, and I think whatever you've been hiding isn't exactly what I'd call best- friend-material. What have you been hiding from Cory?" Morgan asked.
"I think you already know," Shawn told her. "I want you to tell me what you've been hiding from Cory!"
"I truthfully don't know," he said. "Really, huh. Well then does the name Will Roberts mean anything to you?"
Shawn studied Morgan for a long time, but she kept her ground. "Come in," he sighed finally. He let her in and took out a box. "I've been hiding these for awhile because I thought she'd change her mind, but I guess not."
He pulled the box out and inside was a lifetime of paperwork. "He has to fill all these out? If they have to fill all this stuff out, then why does everyone get divorced? Don't they ever get writer's cramp?" Morgan asked, flipping through the papers.
"They don't have to fill all of them out," Shawn told her, "just sign something, I think. I've been trying to figure it out without letting Angela know, but I just can't.
"I'm going to show these to him," she said. "I'm going to, and I will." She took the entire shoebox and walked out of the door with it.
Shawn didn't even try to stop her. There was nothing anyone could do to her now.