Sixteen and Dying by Lurlene McDaniel

him.
    At the men’s quarters, Skip helped Morgan from the truck. “I’ll drive the girls around,” Skip said.
    “Drive Marti,” Morgan told him, taking hold of Anne’s hand. “Let Anne stay with me for a while.”
    “I shouldn’t,” Anne said, knowing she should climb up into the truck and get out of there quickly.
    “I’ll need some help,” Morgan countered.
    The row of housing looked empty and deserted, and Anne realized that everyone was probably still in Platte City. She gulped and, against her better judgment, agreed to help him to his room.
    Morgan’s room was small, sparsely furnished, but tidy. It contained a table and two chairs, a bureau, a single bed, a TV, and a stereo system. A small refrigerator, a microwave, and a sink for washing dishes lined one wall. She wondered why he chose to live alone with the hired hands rather than in the comfort of the main lodge with his aunt and uncle. She knew without question that they would have allowed him such a privilege.
    “I like living here,” he explained, as if reading her mind.
    Anne’s hands fluttered nervously. “You’ve done a nice job with the room.”
    “Probably not anything like what you’re used to.”
    Puzzled, she didn’t know how to answer. “Maybe I should get you settled before Skip comes back for me.”
    “He’ll be a while.”
    “He does seem to like Marti, doesn’t he? I think they make a cute couple. Don’t you?” Anne felt as if she were babbling.
    Morgan eased onto his bed, propping the pillow against the headboard, and snapped on the bedside lamp. “Turn off the overhead, will you? It’s hurting my eyes.” She flipped off the main light switch with shaking fingers. “Come here,” he said.
    She came, and he urged her to sit on the side of the bed. She felt like a moth drawn to a flame. “Don’t your ribs hurt?” she asked.
    “Like crazy.” He reached up and ran his fingers through her long, dark hair.
    She quivered. He turned off the lamp, and suddenly moonlight streamed through the window over his bed. Squares of white light stretched across the spread and dripped onto the floor. By now, Anne’s heart was thudding so fast that she was certain her body couldn’t contain it. Her bones felt like warm liquid.
    He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead, her temple, her closed eyelids. “Stay with me, Anne,” she heard Morgan whisper. “Please stay the night.”

Thirteen

    S
TAY WITH ME .
Anne heard the words echoing in her brain, felt the yearning they carved inside her heart. To stay with Morgan, to spend a night in his arms, to taste a world she’d only read about in books and poetry.… “Skip will be coming back for me soon,” she said.
    “Skip will pull up outside and honk. If you don’t go out, he’ll drive away.” Morgan cupped her chin and stroked her hair. “You must know how much I want to be with you, Anne. I’ve tried to stay away from you, tried to pretend that I wasn’t attracted to you, but for the life of me, I can’t pretend anymore. You’re very beautiful, and I want you very much.”
    For the life of me
. The words fell like hammer blows into a core of cool logic inside her mind. What he was asking of her could cost him his life. She’d read about, heard about, and knew how topractice safe sex, but in one heartrending moment, she realized that such safety could be illusionary. And one chance, even one in a million, was one too many for her to risk his life, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him. “I can’t stay.” Dragging out the words was difficult.
    “Why?”
    “I just can’t.” She pulled away from his arms and stood, struggling to keep her voice steady.
    “Anne—”
    “I think I should wait outside for Skip. I think you should get some rest.” She was trembling all over.
    He looked up at her, and in the swath of moonlight, he looked wounded. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
    Anne felt tears jamming up behind her eyes. She fumbled for the doorknob. It