“Hi, honey,” Kayla said.
Morgan murmured a greeting, leaning forward so her hair covered her face. Kayla approached her the same way she’d sidled up to a spindly-legged fawn she’d once seen in her backyard; trying not to spook it, hoping it wouldn’t run. Morgan had the same big, liquid eyes, the same long limbs; the same look of wobbly uncertainty, like she was poised on her tiptoes, ready to flee. She’s just a kid, Kayla thought miserably. Just a baby herself.
“Morgan,” Kayla began. “Andy told me about your appointment today.” She saw the girl’s dark eyes widen as she turned her head, her gaze darting toward the staircase. Kayla reached out and touched Morgan’s shoulder lightly. “Come sit with me, okay? You’re not in trouble, I promise. I want to help.” Morgan looked terrified, but she let herself be led to the table. Kayla continued speaking in a quiet, lulling voice. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I know you’re probably angry at Andy for breaking his promise, but he wanted you to have an adult with you at your appointment. To make sure you got there safely. To ask questions. To take care of you, after.”
Morgan was trembling, breathing fast, looking ready to run. But she didn’t. Instead, she gave the tiniest nod, and mouthed the words, Thank you.
“Are you sure you can’t talk to your mom about this?” Kayla asked, putting the slightest emphasis on your.
Immediately, Morgan shook her head. “No. She…” Morgan looked down, dark lashes fanned against her cheeks. A tear slid down her face and plopped down on the table. “She thinks it’s murder. She’d never let me. Please don’t tell her. Please.”
“Okay,” Kayla said. Her heart felt like a lump of clay in her chest. “I understand. Andy and I will get you there, and we’ll stay with you for your appointment, and take you…” Take her where? Kayla wondered. Back here? On to Seneca Falls? “Take care of you after.”
Morgan once again murmured, “Thank you.” She sniffled, then wiped her cheek and lifted her head. “Only we’re not going to ride today, are we? What if they make us all get in the van and go to the next place?”
“Andy’s going to be looking at colleges next year. We can tell Abby and Jasper that we made plans to take a look at Syracuse University after we realized we couldn’t ride. Then Jasper can pick us up this afternoon. And being in a car might be better for you than getting on a bike, if you end up…” She let her voice trail off. “Do you know if you’re having a procedure today?”
Morgan blinked, then shook her head. “I don’t know. I hope they’re going to give me pills—it’s still early enough. But they said they have to examine me first.”
Kayla nodded. “So I’ll go with you and Andy. We’ll call an Uber.”
Morgan bent her head, smoothing her fingers along the tablecloth. “Okay. That—that’s good. Thank you.” Her head wobbled like a blossom on the slender stalk of her neck, and Kayla was struck by the sheen of her hair and her dark, clear eyes. She’s going to be so beautiful when she’s done growing up, Kayla thought, and found herself suddenly furious, burning with rage at punitive laws and the clueless men who made them, without ever having to see, firsthand, the consequences; at conservative parents and disappearing boyfriends. At the world, and everyone in it who would hurt a girl like Morgan. “We’ll take care of you,” she said, and she felt, more than heard it, when Morgan whispered another, “Thank you.”
Sebastian
8:28 a.m.
Sebastian woke up before his alarm went off and came downstairs, dressed for riding. He’d said good morning to Abby as he’d passed her on his way to the porch, where they’d locked up the bikes the night before. She’d barely glanced at him, keeping her head down, her lips pressed together tightly as she’d hurried away. Sebastian tried not to stare after her. He’d pushed too hard, the night before, at dinner, goading her about Mark. He’d probably undone whatever minimal progress he’d made toward getting Abby not to think he was scum. Her, and the rest of the Internet. He’d given in and googled himself that morning, and he was sure that some of the most trenchant and cruel bits of criticism had permanently engraved themselves on his brain. Thousands of comments, tweets, Instagram posts, subreddits, and listicles and even a few think pieces, including one in the New York Times titled “The End of the Big Man on Campus,” which held up his mockery as a sign of feminist progress. Sebastian was all for it… except when he was the impetus.