DISCLAMIER: I don't have or own any rights to Boy Meets World. Or to any Connie Francis music. I'm just poor white trash.

Connie and Oxy….

WARNING: This chapter contains drug usage so feel free not to read it if it offends.

The bathroom tile is cold, so cold Morgan decides to lay in the bathtub instead. She has been waiting patiently for everyone to leave. She needs to be fully alone in order to enjoy it. As she hears the last car door slam she smiles coolly to herself.

The whole loquacious bunch had arrived when she was at school. She had been able to forgo the casual greetings followed by the usual polite conversation (which to Morgan was always her private version of social hell) by hiding in her room. However, the silence would be broken by a friendly knock on the bedroom door. She first chose to ignore it, but the knock became more desperate and she could hear complaints through the wood. She opened the door to find a lone Corey behind it. She leans against the doorframe staring at him with her eyes resembling empty pools of water waiting to drown the next surviour.

"Hiya, sis!" He eagerly greets his hand awkwardly rises along with his eyebrows. Morgan always loved her brother's slapstick mannerisms.

"Corey," she quietly answers him. He quickly puts his hands into his jeans.

"How are you?" he asks and even though his hands are tucked away his uneasiness is still visible.

Morgan senses his discomfort and decides to manipulate the situation. So, she remains still and stoic like a flesh ridden statue, but never takes her glaze off of him. Corey stands there as another victim of an unsettling silence so nervously he tries to make conversation.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," He ends mumbling out. Morgan doesn't say a word. "What's new?" He tries again.

Morgan continues her stance of silence and surreptitiously enjoys his anxious behaviour. They stand there waiting for the other to respond. Voices echo through the floorboard from the living room followed by a carol of laughter.

"Listen," Corey finally breaks down. "We're going to dinner do you want to come?" Morgan remains still and he steps closer his brown eyes softening. "I want you to come,"

She looks at his somewhat feminine eyes. They seem more maternal than their mother's and even the shape has a calming effect.

"Please," He steps closer then wraps his arms tightly around her fragile body. "It'll be fun just come, okay?"

The moment he touched her she stiffened. Even though her face remained detached a violent rage burned from her chest.

"Do you find this comforting?" The words hissed out of her mouth in cool flames. She wrapped her arms around him and let her hands slowly fall to his lower back. Once she had a handful of his ass she squeezed hard. "Because your touch is floor wax to me."

Corey instantly jumps back holding her hands in front of him. His face is a mixture of disgust and confusion. His mothering eyes are heated and he glares at her then jerks her hands away. Morgan looks at him with satisfaction then strolls into the bathroom where she locks the door. From outside the door she hears Topanga ask if Morgan was coming and Corey coldly says no.

After she heard the last car door slam Morgan takes out a CD-Player she hid in the bathroom and pushes play. The tiny room is instantly filled with Connie Francis' voice as she sings "Where the Boys Are". Then Morgan sneaks over to a hidden corner and produces a very narcotic treasure.

A UKNOWN FACT is that Mr. Feeny is a very distinguished pill-popper (as many are). Morgan had discovered this last summer after witnessing him nod off several times in his garden. The major clue to discovering his addiction was the several empty pill bottles scattered in his trash, and finding his stash of Oxy two weeks ago when she was watering his houseplants while he was away. Selfishly, she at least took twenty tablets. Singing along with Connie she crushed, snorted the remainder of her findings. She looked at herself in the mirror and feverishly rubbed her nose.

"Someone waits for me…" She chanted to herself.