Chapter 13: Voices from the past.

Morgan left around an hour later, after we fed each other breakfast (of the cereal and juice kind; get your mind out of the gutter), and cleaned up a bit. We kissed each other good-bye at the door, with her promising to call tomorrow--her parents had a thing tonight that she needed to attend. After the door closed behind her, I tossed the sheets into the hamper, and judiciously concluded that I should probably do my whites today before I ran out of underwear later this week.

While waiting for the laundry to be done, I had some time to consider the last twenty-four hours. Yes, I know, last night was definitely too much, too fast. Still, it felt... right. Morgan and I had something between us, and it wasn't just physical compatibility. No, it wasn't the soulmate, finish-each-other's-sentences thing that Maddie and I shared, but it was something... comparable. Apples and oranges, if you would. If Maddie and I had stayed together, I would have never considered exploring it, but as it is...

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm not a romantic. I don't believe in 'happily ever after' anymore. Having it come crashing down around my ears tends to induce a more jaded outlook. I had thought that Olivia and I would last forever, which didn't happen. It would have been wonderful had Maddie and I lasted, but I had been dubious about our long-term chances even before Callista dropped her bombshell. Even soulmates had to face reality, and a seven-year gap is difficult to bridge in the best of circumstances. Love can move mountains, but it doesn't more often than not.

None of this begins to justify Morgan and I hopping into bed the same day Maddie and I broke up. Interesting thing is, had the situation been reversed, Maddie and I would have done the same thing. Except that we'd share nothing more than a good-night kiss before falling asleep in each other's arms. Still, the bottom line is that Morgan and I are together now, and I'll try to make it work. Even if Maddie decides she wants me back.

After folding the laundry and grabbing a brief lunch, I headed into lab. It was a Saturday, but the lab was my only way to get online. People talk about office supply and xerox subsidies; I can't live without my Net subsidy. Thing is, I probably spend more time in lab doing personal stuff than actual work. Not that I do that much online. Sports, music charts, a little current events, mp3 hunting, and e-mail, of course. Hmmm, I have a 'Hello' e-mail from an unfamiliar Hopkins address. School of Public Health, actually. Now, who could that be?

The e-mail was just a few lines long: 'Hey, Jordan. Hope your summer's going well. Are you free sometime next week? I'd like to see you. Drop me a line. Amy.' I clicked on the Reply button, then stared unseeingly at the screen.

<sigh> Amy was the ex-student I had dated for a few weeks at the beginning of the summer. Time to set the record straight, I guess. Our mutual break-up was more her breaking up with me, though I didn't fight it. I didn't take it well either, hence my 'throwing myself into my work' bit earlier. She was a senior in my Developmental Biology lab section. However, she was staying around another year to do her master's in Public Health. She was studious, but didn't kill herself trying to ace the class. Shoulder-length, silky brown hair, and dark brown eyes to match. I really enjoyed interacting with her in lab, which was why I asked her out to begin with. After the break-up, I've taken pains to avoid any chance of even accidentally running into her.

While I'm revising history, I should mention Liz. We didn't really fall out of contact, but we might as well have. Despite everything I said about staying on the periphery of her life, I made an effort to stay in it. However, a chance remark by Sean got me to realize something. While Liz may enjoy my company, she doesn't mind not having me around, either. Certainly, she's stopped by my lab and called me on occasion, but always in response to me stopping by earlier or leaving a message. Well, almost always.

I used to call her once or twice every week after she went to NIH full time, to keep in contact. We'd chat for a few minutes and catch up on things. Never for too long; the only time I could reach her consistently was after she got in from work. One night, she called at around ten. The first words out of the receiver after our mutual hellos were, "I didn't call to talk, because I'm still at work." It turned out that she was in the middle of some prep work, and was trying to track down someone who could tell her at which step could she stop at safely. I helped her track down the numbers, but none of the people she knew were at home. That call, in and of itself, shouldn't have made me uncomfortable. After all, she came to me for help. Granted, I wasn't of much help, but she called me. It's just... I wish she'd call me to talk. I haven't called her in a while, since she's sharing a place with Amy. I had introduced the two early on, as they were both looking for a short-term roommate. Since I've started avoiding Amy, I haven't run into Liz at all...