Stumble

Chapter Eighteen

Disclaimer - I do not own the Outsiders. Or Welcome to Wherever You Are by Bon Jovi.

– You gotta believe right here right now you're exactly where you're s'posed to be –

I had over three hundred dollars stashed under my mattress. I didn't want to think about how many men that meant I had slept with. I wasn't even sure I wanted the money anymore. It represented something I wanted to forget. And anything I bought with it would be the same.

But if I got rid of it, not only would it be a waste of money, but it would mean that it had all been in vain.

I quickly hid the money again when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door. "Yeah?" I called. The door opened with a slight creak and Vanessa popped her head in.

"What's goin' on with you and Dallas?" she asked rather abruptly.

"Huh?" I replied, both surprised and not sure how to answer.

"Well," she began slowly. "First, you guys, like, hate each other, right? And then yer - friends - I guess. And then, I dunno, it seems like yer more than that. But then he slams the door and storms out? What's goin' on, Morgan?"

"Truthfully," I answered after a moment of thought. "I have no idea."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but she just turned and left, gently closing the door behind her.

It was late, I rolled over and stared at the wall beside my bed for what felt like hours before I fell asleep.

XxXx

The next morning I awoke to yet another knock at my bedroom door, this one was much more forceful than Nessa's had been the night before. "Yes?" I called tentatively, fearing it was my father.

It wasn't. Dallas slowly entered my room.

I sat up. "Hi," I said, gently.

"Hey," he replied, not looking at me. There was silence for awhile. Then he sighed, "Look, Morgan, about yesterday-"

I shook my head, cutting him off. "Listen, forget about it," I told him. He looked up at me, his mouth still open. He looked like he wanted to say more but he didn't. I rolled over and started staring at the wall again. I could feel his eyes on me. "What happened to you?" I heard him say softly.

"What d'you mean?" I questioned, not looking at him.

"The first night I met you, you were sarcastic and cruel," he told me. "Now it's like you don't even care."

I lay there and thought about his words for what felt like a very long time. "Do you ever think that maybe things happen for a reason?" I suddenly asked.

"What?" he replied, thrown by my sudden change of subject.

I rolled over and looked at him. "Do you ever think that maybe things happen for a reason?" I repeated. "Y'know, like, fate or something?"

"I dunno," he answered, coming to sit on the edge of my bed. "D'you?"

"Yeah, I think I do," I said.

"How so?"

"Well, I mean, a lot of shitty things have happened to me, but they've all kinda resulted in something good," I reasoned.

"Something good?" he questioned. I knew what he was thinking, I couldn't find much good in my life, either.

"When my mom died, it was - terrible. But if she hadn't, I wouldn't have ended up at Buck's that night. And that's when I met you for the first time.

"If my dad hadn't of beat me that first time I wouldn't have needed out so bad, I wouldn't have gone to Buck's and...well y'know. And if I hadn't done that than I wouldn't need yer help and I wouldn't know you like I do.

"And, as much I love having Nessa back, God know's it been hard trying to support, especially since I can't tell her how I do it. But, if she hadn't come back, she wouldn't have become friends with you and the guys and I wouldn't know any of you."

"You realize that that all leads to you knowing me," Dallas said, giving me and unreadable look.

"Well, yer something good."

Suddenly, those rare genuine smiles of his, didn't seem so rare anymore.

This eighteenth chapter marks the longest story (chapter-wise) I have ever written. You've all just witnessed history in the making.