"Behind every young boy who believes in himself is a father who believed in him first."

Chris Omar Vaughn

"You missed a spot," I messed with Dale.

He took a step back and looked at the shed, confused.

When he realized I was just joking, he threatened to throw paint on me but I used my mom as a cover.

"Woah, woah," she sounded, covering her face.

Dale returned to his work and I wrapped my arms around my mother.

"Shows how much you love me," she griped, elbowing me lightly.

We walked through the house to the backyard where Carter was struggling with the house he offered to build.

Mom, standing under me, shook her head. "He really is trying," she sighed.

I peered out at her husband and laughed. "You didn't tell me you kicked him out," I talked, looking down.

She frowned, arms folded. "I didn't?"

I nudged her. "You know you didn't. Why not?"

My mother exhaled, eyes still on her husband some yards away.

"Well, I didn't want to force him on you, like you said. Or myself. But that doesn't mean I don't love him," she let me know.

I took in what she said. Of course she loved him, I wasn't upset at that. In fact, I'm glad she didn't move on, I can't do step-dads, I've seen the movies.

As we stood there, taking in the scenery and fresh air, Carter suddenly looked to us and waved his hands in the air.

"Yo! Chris," he called.

Mom watched my eyes roll back in annoyance already, and laughed, pushing me down the hill.

~

"--What?" asked Carter, seeing me just stand there.

I shook my head, keeping my opinions to myself.

"What?" he repeated, this time with a chuckle.

I scratched my head and observed what he was doing.

"Just... why are you doing it like that?" I asked.

He stood up and waved the hammer in his hand. "Like what? This is right, isn't it?"

"No," I laughed, moving him out of the way.

"Oh," Carter drawled once I finished connecting the back wall to the base. "You're so good, I wouldn't have thought of that."

"I know what you're doing," I chuckled, walking around the mess.

"What?" he questioned, offering me a Gatorade. It was orange, too, my favorite. I tried not to smile at the fact that he remembered.

After a refreshing taste, I straightened my face at Carter for playing dumb.

"You and I both know you could you could've done this in your sleep," I called him out, leaning on his work van.

Carter bobbed his head and then closed the gap between us.

"I could've, you're right. I guess I just wanted to spend time with my son," he expressed, looking me in the eyes.

I stepped back and crossed my ankles as well as my arms.

"You don't have to help me anymore if you want, we've been at it long enough. I'll have it done soon," he suggested, cleaning up the piles of wood to throw on the stack.

"I'll help you," I spoke up.

Carter's eyes got big. He looked at me funny.

"You okay? Did you hit your head, or something? Is Mary bribing you?" he joked.

I laughed, pushing his hands out of my face. "No. Maybe I just wanna spend time with my dad," I mumbled.

"And I'm proud of you, too," I admitted, kicking up grass.

He didn't say anything but I could see the way his lips kept separating so he could.

Instead, Dad just smiled wide and slapped my back.

"BOYS!" Mom yelled from the sliding glass door.

My father and I could've gotten whiplash the way we looked up so fast.

"Come eat! I made sheet pan fajitas," she hollered, disappearing back inside.

"My favorite," Dad and I said together.

We looked at each other, suspicious, and then started laughing.

"I'll race you to the top," he said, popping an eyebrow.

I laughed, continuing to walk. "I'm not seven, I'm not racing you."

"Well, let me hold a dollar," he joked, squeezing my shoulders as we neared the b&b.

Over dinner, Mom buzzed about how the town was doing something for the fourth of July this weekend.

"--Any plans, Chris?" she asked me, biting into a fajita.

"Probably not, I don't know," I answered with food in my mouth.

"We could check out the fair, watch some fireworks like old times?" Dad suggested.

Mom's eyes filled with wonder at the mention of fireworks. "I'd love that," she sparked, finger curled over her lips as she tried to talk and chew.

That sounds fucking horrible, I thought. It's like just because we're reunited, we have to so shit as a family, but that's corny, and I didn't even want to be seen with them when I was a pre-teen.

"Yeah, I'll let you know," I told them. Lie.

"So, Chris, have you applied for any architect jobs, or?" Dad changed the topic.

I swallowed hard and sat back, not wanting to talk about work.

"Uh, no, not really," I answered, looking at Mom.

"Why not? You're talented," he pushed.

"Aheh, thanks, but uh, I don't know; just doin' other things right now," I talked, scratching my head.

"Like with Malcolm?" Dad grumbled, putting his fork down.

"Carter," Mom warned, palm on her forehead.

"No, I'm sorry, I won't bring 'em up again," Dad noted, excusing himself from the table to get seconds.

When he had his back turned, Mom eyed me, one of those "please" looks.

My phone vibrated on the table and thank God, too, because I didn't really feel like continuing that conversation.

It was a text from a number I never expected to reach out to me, well not first anyway - Morgan.

wtf are you doing

I laughed, imagining her ask me that out loud. She must've been bored out of her mind or just really hates my guts.

I replied:

tf?

A minute later, Morgan sent back a bunch of laughing emojis.

I smiled, bringing my phone in my lap to reply, but before I could, she sent another text.

rescue me

you burn yourself again?

no jackass im bored

well thats no way to talk to someone who you want to help you

im so sorry chris please forgive me

no

-_- i hate you

wyd

im at malcolms.

Oh shit.

I didn't even know he told her what he did for a living, and he took her to his office? Things must be getting pretty serious. . .

"Hey," my mom snapped her fingers in my face.  "Phone's up at dinner, you know this."

I locked my phone before I could reply and stood, my head bumping the hanging light fixture.

"Ow."

"Where are you going?" asked my father.

"Um..." I had to make something up. If I said to Malcolm's, he'd lose his shit. If I said that I was going to get Morgan, they'd do all the "ooh" and "awww" bullshit, but this isn't that. If anything, I'm her glorified babysitter, a bodyguard.

"Okay, just go, you don't have to think up a lie," Mom said. She knows me well.

I kissed her head and laughed before walking towards the door.

"Oh, hey, do we still have those paddleboards?" I asked the couple.

Mom's hand under Dad's, she stopped and smiled. "Is this for a date, Christopher?"

"Mom," I groaned, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my shorts.

Dad laughed with his shoulders. "They're in the shed."

"Thank you," I said to him, turning back for the door again.

Mom called my name but I didn't stop. "Take some of those plums I picked, they're by the door!"

I grabbed the bag of plums and waited for another second because I just knew she was going to stop me again.

"You're not going to put your plate in the sink?" she asked me, having to yell.

"No," I shouted from the foyer, "you got it! Thanks!"

~~~

I almost didn't go to Denver but I decided I'd better get Morgan out of there before she have a fit and say I "wasn't there for her again."

The girls a brat, needs a lot of attention. Actually, that might not be true, but Malcolm makes it seem that way. He's too, what's the word, controlling? And all she wants is to get out and, shit, why am I acting like I know her so well?

I successfully made it through security and followed Teddy to Malcolm's office upstairs.

Teddy stopped me at the doors, having heard some arguing that slipped through the crack.

"—I'm not acting like anything, Malcolm," I heard Morgan say. I looked in discreetly and saw her sitting in a chair with Malcolm leaning over like she was in the principal's office.

Teddy looked down at me and then shook his head.

"You are, you're acting like a fucking baby. If I knew you were such a kid I wouldn't have brought you out here," he roared.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have," she said quietly, looking down at her purple bike shorts.

"What was that?!" He barked in her face.

"Nothing," she said, squirming around him to get out of the chair. "I just wish you told me that you are in this business."

"For the last time," he yelled across the room, "my corporation is fully legitimate and I don't need you judging me for it."

"You're a glorified drug dealer," she uttered, almost making Teddy laugh out loud and blow our cover.

"I can't do this with you right now, Morgan, I really can't. I need a fucking Xanax, dealing with this shit. You're excused," he bossed, taking a drink.

"I'm excused?" She asked, looking taken aback.

"Yes, you can go, you're dismissed. Am I speaking English? Oh, and fetch Teddy if you see him, tell him I need drugs. Now. Thanks," Malcolm spat, loosening the tie around his neck.

When Morgan started for the door, Teddy and I dispersed, trying to look natural.

I quickly disappeared into the elevator with one of Malcolm's secretaries, Tara.

"Oh, hey, Chris," she blushed.

"Hi," I said, furiously pushing the 'down' button.

Once in the lobby, Morgan sent me another text. It read:

I saw your truck creeper, where are you?

I laughed at the fact that she was even looking for me.

Without replying, I just waited on the side of the elevator as I saw it was sending someone down in it.

Staying patient, after the 'DING,' I watched Morgan look around the lobby for me, I assume.

When she flailed her arms, looking lost, that's when I finally jumped out and scared her.

She screamed and made everyone in the lobby stare at us.

"That's not funny," she gasped.

"You wearing sunglasses inside is," I countered, leading the way outside.

She remained standing there as if in protest and was probably burning holes through me.

I threw my head back, holding the door open for her.

"Come on, Princess," I rushed.

"Stop calling me that," she grumbled, walking by.

In the truck, Morgan didn't say a word which I already knew wasn't like her.

"You know, you could be thanking me," I spoke up, turning off the radio.

"Thank you for what?" She asked, lifting her head from the tinted window.

I laughed at her still in these black retro rectangular sunglasses.

"Will you take those off?" I asked and she did.

Although, I was upset that it looked like she had been crying.

"What's wrong now?" I asked but I probably already knew.

"Nothing," she inhaled. "Well, it's Malcolm, but I don't wanna talk about it with you."

"Don't let him make you cry," I said, pulling off after a red light.

"Gee, I never thought of that!" She remarked, being a smart ass when that's my job.

I laughed, making a right, not even sure if I was going the right way.

"What's your sign?" Morgan randomly asked.

I looked at her for a second, tongue in cheek, already knowing where this was going.

"I'm a Virgo," I answered, proud.

Morgan went, "Mm," and I laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked her.

She started to smile. "I can tell."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I stated.

When I stopped the truck and parked outside of a convenient store, Morgan unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Wow," she said, jumping out, with wonder.

"What?" I asked, walking to the entrance. I let her go first, enjoying the view.

"This is exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to pick me up," she said. Oh, being smart.

I rolled my eyes, holding off my laughter as we entered.

She walked backwards and said, "I've always wanted to come to a store."

"See, I was going to let you pick a snack, too," I joked, swinging my lanyard as we walked through different aisles.

"You don't need to let me do anything, I have money, and I wasn't going to share anyway, Chris," she made known, throwing a bag of chips at me.

"Think fast," she giggled, pushing the glasses over her hairline.

"You're supposed to say that before," I snarled, throwing them back.

"Excuse me!" The cashier hollered.

"Sorry!" Morgan squeaked back.

"Look what you did, you got us in trouble," she said, slapping my stomach.

"Why are you flexing?" She asked, giggling.

"I'm not," I couldn't help but laugh, making way to the drinks section.

She started tickling me and I didn't laugh, well I did but not because I was ticklish, she just looked dumb because I'm not ticklish.

Morgan smacked her lips and said, "Lame."

She then grabbed a large bottle of Fiji water and twisted her mouth in thought.

"What?" I asked, seeing her pause.

"Nothing," she said too fast, pushing me out of the way — or trying— but when I didn't budge, she rolled her eyes and walked under my arm.

At the register, the woman said, "That'll be eighteen fifty-four."

Morgan hummed, looking up at me. And I looked right back at her.

"What happened to 'I have money?'" I taunted.

She giggled and popped her shoulders. "You got it. Thanks!"

~~~

Bolpawa park, where my parents used to take me as a kid. We went almost every other weekend. It was ideal for camping, and where most of the "cool kids" in school used to go boating.

Fourth of July weekend, I knew it would be crowded but I figured Morgan could use a nice outing since Malcolm keeps her cooped in the mansion, hidden from the world.

I parked on the rocks overlooking the body of water and hopped out to get the boards off the roof of the truck. It was the perfect weather for it.

Morgan stood on the edge, looking out at all the people partying and in floats or small boats, and canoes.

"Can I get a hand?" I asked her.

She hesitantly tore her bright eyes from the scene and gave me a round of applause.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I always wanted to do that. Here."

That all done, Morgan led the way to the "perfect spot" and dropped the snacks on a towel I had in the backseat.

"I have to give it to you, this is nice," she complimented, hands at her hips.

I looked around, scoping the scene. There were girls all around in bikinis, just hanging out, but none I wanted to approach.

When I took my tank top off, Morgan stared at me.

"Are you trying to pick up a girl? I can be your wingman," she said, eyes peeled.

"No," I quickly shot down, pushing my hair back.

"Why?" She curled her face.

Because you're the best looking thing here and I don't want to downgrade, I thought.

"Uh," I chuckled, snapping out of my head. "because."

"Not an answer," she gave me a hard time.

I was sitting, waiting to get in the water, when Morgan blocked my sun, removing her white top, revealing a matching ribbed purple bra to the bodycon shorts.

Please let the shorts come off next.

She shook her hair out and then tossed her shirt next to mine.

My mouth went dry. I was staring, I knew it, but couldn't help myself.

There was no way this girl is this blessed, I thought. I had to look her over again, searching for the flaws I missed the first time. Still none, damn it. She's perfect, and I hate that I love it.

"Well," she wondered, looking back at me. "are we going in?"

~

"Oh, oh!" Morgan squeaked, throwing me her phone.
She's lucky I caught it as we were on the water.

"Take my picture!" She bossed, striking a series of poses.

When I didn't look ready to, morgan splashed water on me.

"Come on, Chris!" She pouted.

The way she said my name, I couldn't resist.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and played photographer.

I paused, my mouth open as I stared. Fuck the picture, I was looking at the real thing.

She wasn't just cute, or pretty, Morgan's gorgeous and knows it. Her smile could lit up a dark abyss, the one in my chest, empty and unfulfilled because I had to hide my attraction to her. It was the hardest thing to do. I felt like Helga from 'Hey Arnold," the way I disguised how I felt with what probably came off as random rude episodes.

She posed for several pictures in sensual and suggestive ways. I didn't even know you could make paddle boarding look sexy, but she did. While that was way more exciting for me to see than I want to admit, I preferred the shots where she's smiling. It was just something about it, pure and wholesome. Like, she captured the essence of a child, and it's infectious. The kind of smile that made me want to keep being nice and funny just so I could see it again.

After probably fifty, though, I begged she not make me keep taking them. It was hot and too good of a day to waste on our phones. Besides, she didn't even get any of me.

"Did you get some good ones, Chris?" she asked, little faith in me.

"Yeah," I said, "they're cute."

When Morgan smiled and paddled away to throw her phone back onto the shore where our things were kept, I cleared my throat. I didn't mean to say "cute," I didn't mean to compliment her at all, it slipped. But I was a little proud that I could make her smile.

She returned after a moment and said, "Come on!"

~~~

Night fell and we were still on the water. If it were up to me, I'd stay out all night.

"Do we have to go?" Morgan asked, hauling the board out of the shallow water.

It was dark, I heard the coyotes howling at the full moon. And what a sky, it was that shade of dark blue, not black, and the only stars you could see were the ones that might actually be planets. They were big and bright, brighter than usual, but there weren't many out.

"It feels so good out here," Morgan chimed, stretching her arms out for the wind to take her away.

There was no better night than this one, the weather was perfect, it was a perfect cap on a generally good day.

I strapped the boards back on top of Precious — my Durango— and threw the towel and snacks in the backseat, hoping I wouldn't forget them there later.

I looked at the time on my phone and thought she'd want to go in after hours at the lake.

8:49pm

"You probably wanna head in, Malcolm might be worried if he's home-" I said, putting the trunk down.

Morgan stood there, staring out at the moon's reflection on the water.

"I don't wanna go in, yet," she said softly.

So I drove to the top of the mountain and parked, popping the truck so we could face the cliff and have a view.

"It's so gorgeous out here," Morgan professed.

I stretched out, holding my head up by my hand, and agreed silently.

"Have you lived here your whole life?" she asked.

"No, actually, I went away for college."

"Why'd you come back?" She wondered, tossing her hair up.

I liked it up. Hell, I liked it however, but she looked so cute with it in a ponytail.

"It's home?" I guessed. "I don't know. Really, I don't know."

Morgan nodded, rubbing the goosebumps on her legs.

"Oh, you cold? Here," I volunteered the quilt Sherry had given me earlier.

"Oh," she mused, giggling as I threw it over her body only inches from mine.

"You come prepared, huh?"

I hung my head, smirking. "It's not even like that."

"Mhm," she didn't buy it. "How many girls have gotten this exact treatment?"

I had to think, and when I did, Morgan went "exactly."

I chuckled. "No, I've never brought a girl up here, or anywhere, really. Back to Malcolm's usually, but I don't really go on dates."

"Why not?"

"Just never cared to, I guess? I don't know."

"You say that a lot, Chris," Morgan pointed out, sounding disappointed.

"You say my name a lot."

She shrugged. "I like it."

I crossed my arms over my chest, bare ankles too, and felt the breeze rush in.

"Sorry, here," she cooed, sharing the quilt.

"You didn't have to," I trailed off.

"Shh," whispered Morgan.

That's when she decided she wanted a snack and reached over the seat.

"What's this?" She asked about my mom's plums.

"Plums, they're sweet, my mom picked them."

Morgan wasted no time biting into one. "Ooh, it is sweet!"

"Yeah," I laughed. "You never had one before?"

She shook her head. "No, never."

The juice streamed down her chin but she was too busy chewing to care.

"Here, try it," she insisted, putting hers in my face.

"No, I can just," I said, stopping myself.

"Try it," her tone deepened as she hovered over me.

What the hell, I ate the fruit she fed me. It was sweet.

"Mmm," she sounded like a mother feeding a baby. I guess she was used to that, with Quinn, I mean.

And juicy, too. You would've thought I didn't know how to eat properly, making a mess over myself.

Morgan looked at me as I chewed, savoring the taste.

My eyes fell on her lips. She swallowed and leaned forward.

My heart started to race, my brain told everything to stop functioning. I didn't know what to do, and that's a first.

She placed a napkin to my chin and ever so gently wiped me clean.

I laughed and she didn't even know why.

"What?" She asked, her voice little.

"Nothing," I swallowed. "Nothing..."

Of course she wasn't going to fucking kiss me, I don't even know why I thought that. It was innocent, what we were doing, nothing more.

I took the realization to let it sink in that she is with Malcolm for no reason other than she wants to be. Albeit, for his money, but still. And I've been far too loyal to my uncle to cross him now, not over a woman.

Let's just blame it on the two beers I had that didn't get me drunk, but I'll take that over just being stupid as an excuse.

Morgan lied down beside me, she blinked her lengthy eyelashes and stared out at the stars, I didn't even care that at that angle, it gave her a double chin.

"Do you know any constellations?" she asked through a small yawn.

"No, you?"

"No. Chris?"

"Morgan," I groaned, having closed my eyes.

"I think I should go," she said.

"Back to Malcolm's, I'll take you-"

"No," she spoke. "to Arizona."

I flung one eye open, my left one.

"Why would you do that?"

She sighed deeply. "Malcolm isn't who he said he was."

"He has a weed business, so what?"

"It's not that," she clicked her tongue. "it's everything. The move was crazy, I jumped the gun a little. I-I should've, I don't know, gotten to know him more. And I regret bringing Callie out here, I don't know if it's changed her at all."

"It's still early, Morgan, she's not just going to get over a whole illness overnight."

"It's more than that, though. Like, I don't know what I'm doing here - if it's worth it."

She was so busy talking, and I entranced by her voice, to notice we were playing footsie and I would've been freaked out if it didn't feel so... natural.

"Well I know for a fact if you left the whole town would riot," I made her laugh.

She sniffled. "And I'd miss them, but really, what am I doing here? Malcolm doesn't treat me so good, and you said it yourself, I'm a whore, basically. What type of example am I setting for Quinn?"

"Fuck what I said, Morgan. I didn't know you or why you were doing this. If you want to be with him, stay. If not, I'm sure there's a vacant room at the b&b with your name on it."

"Don't be nice to me because you think you have to, I want your honesty."

"Trust me, that was honest. Well, I don't know about the room, but I'm sure Callie would let you sleep on the couch."

She laughed and then rolled onto her side to look around my face.

"This isn't so bad," she whispered.

I shook but head to agree.

"I could stay right here forever," she added.

"I'd like that," I uttered low, eyes heavy.

"Chris," she called.

I didn't say anything, just met her gaze.

"Can I put my leg on you?" She didn't even have to ask.

I relaxed my arms, unsure of what to do with them, but I removed them from my chest in case she wanted to put her head there, and she did.

She inched closer, easing her limb over mine.

This time, she was shy, hesitant.

I scooped her body under my one arm and then pulled her leg higher.

She smiled against my chest and squeezed my body.

"Chris," she called my name for the last time.

"Can you kiss me?"

I shot my eyes open, having to see if this was one of those times where she was grinning, ready to bust out laughing.

Only, she wasn't. She was serious, eyes glossy but wide with something like hope.

"I can't," my voice rasped.

"Don't you want to?"

More than anything right now, yes, I thought in my head.

When I didn't answer, she began to pout.

Her lips were turned down and I wanted to fix that, make her smile, but I just couldn't oblige.

But goddamn the things I would do. . .

"Sorry," she said, sitting up.

I did the same.

We sat in silence for a minute, trying to think of how to get over this.

This is crazy, but fuck it.

I grabbed her red face and brought her lips to mine. They were just as soft as I imagined, and she was a good kisser, compatible with me.

She melted under me and then slowly backed away.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I don't know what I apologized for but I did.

"Don't be," Morgan exhaled, avoiding eye contact.

"Just, don't do it again," she paused.

Feeling dumb, I was packing up, angrily throwing shit at the front of the truck so we could leave and I put this embarrassing moment behind me, but her next words froze me.

"—because I don't know if... if I'll be able to stop," she whispered, finally connecting her green eyes to mine.

Aheh. I swore this had to be some sort of test Malcolm put her up to. But I don't test well.

"Come here," I rizzed, wetting my lips for her.

She crawled back towards me and swung her leg over my lap.

I stared up at her and she rose up some to remove her t-shirt.

My eyes immediately noticed her breasts staring me right in the face, waiting to be freed from the purple fabric her nipples were poking at.

Finally, I'd been waiting for this since the moment Malcolm showed me her profile all those weeks ago.
It was all moving so fast, I didn't want to waste any time.

But then, the lights.