"Hey MOOOrty!"

Just focus on the text. Just tune them out.

"MOoooorty!"

Stupid idiot Frank.

The guy just wouldn't leave him alone. He was like a second shadow, one that was constantly calling you names and making you hate yourself and think you were crazy. "Hey MOOORty! How, how come your crazy Space Grandpa isn't here to protect you?"

Morty shut his eyes and just kept walking. Just tune him out, and he'll go away.

"Oh THAT'S right!" Frank sneered, closing in, "that's because he doesn't exist! He's all in your mind! Because you made him up. Isn't that right, MORty?"

"Sh-sh-sh-SHUT UP, FRANK!" Morty gritted his teeth and tried to stand tall.

Except he wasn't tall. He was the shortest kid in his class. He was fourteen years old but he might as well be eight. And of course Frank was the tallest in his class. He towered over Morty, making him seem even more intimidating than he already was.

"Oooo! I'm reallly scared now!" Frank had him backed up against the lockers, breathing sardines from lunch in his face. It made Morty want to throw up, but he didn't run away. He stood his ground, but Frank came drawing closer. "You-you got me shaking in my boots, MORty! Hey! Maybe you should use-that, like, special ray gun you have!"

Morty's face grew red. "I-I don't have any-"

"That's RIGHT you don't have any!" Frank crowed, "because you MADE IT UP!"

"NO!" Morty blurted out, "I di-di-di-di-DIDN'T! My Grandpa Rick is REAL!"

"Suuuure kid." Frank just rolled his eyes as he placed two hands on either side of Morty's small frame, blocking him. "Just keep on telling yourself that. That'll make it ALL better."

"STOP it, Frank!"

Morty's face grew very red now: that was not just anyone's voice. That was a GIRL'S voice.

Jessica…. His secret love….he couldn't believe it, he was trying to protect him! But Morty didn't want protecting. He wanted to stand up for himself for once, dammit. Except the moment he heard her voice, he couldn't move. He was frozen in place just by the sight of her.

Jessica walked right up to Frank.

"Leave him alone," she hissed in his face.

Frank just glared at her. "Or what?" he hissed back after a moment. "What you gonna do about it? You're just a girl!"

"I'm not 'just' anything!" snapped Jessica, and Morty's jaw dropped as she defensively flipped her flowing red hair in his face. "And you're just a bully!"

Morty stayed very, very still in the silence that followed. He knew that any move he made right now could either make or break his chances with Jessica.

"So?" Jessica glowered at Frank who was strangely silent, glowering right back. "What's it gonna be?"

Another very tense moment passed, during which Morty was grateful he didn't wet himself.

"Whimps." That was all Frank said in return, as he turned sharply on his heel and walked away without another word to either one of them.

Jessica breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face her friend. Now that they were alone, Morty felt very very embarrassed. He didn't want a girl fighting his battles for him. He wanted to thank her, but he wasn't sure what to say, and if he did know, he doubted he'd have the courage to say it anyhow. He was already a very nervous speaker, and even more nervous when it came to talking to girls...especially someone he really, really liked.

"Y-you…." He swallowed hard as he faced her. "You….didn't have to do that, Jessica…."

"I know that, Morty." Jessica looked apologetic but determined. "But he can't just go around treating people like that."

"I-I can stand up for myself….you know." Morty felt suddenly very defeated. He slumped back heavily against the locker; his legs felt too weak to support himself. He wanted to crawl into one of them and never come out.

"You know what Morty?" Jessica smiled at him. "You should write more stories about your Grandpa Rick."

"They-they're not just stories Je-Jessica." Morty argued back weakly, but he was too exhausted to say more. How could he explain to his secret crush that his Mom had told him his grandpa was a brilliant scientist and inventor? So what if he had abandoned his daughter at a young age in the name of science? From what she said, he'd invented pretty cool things all on his own. He'd even helped build a real plane once. It wasn't too far of a stretch to think he could build his own fully functional spaceship and portal gun too, right?

"I know that Morty." Jessica spoke softly and, to his astonishment, she suddenly placed her hand on his shoulder. "They mean a lot to you...don't they."

"Uhuh." Morty nodded dumbly, kicking himself for how stupid he sounded. God, he was so stupid! Why couldn't he ever talk right around girls? Why couldn't he ever talk right around anybody? Was it because of what everyone had always said about him-that he was "Different"-that he couldn't seem to act like normal people?

Her hand was still on his shoulder, and even though it felt warm, Morty still shivered at the touch.

Jessica was looking deeply into his eyes.

Morty looked back into hers and swallowed.

Then, she gave his shoulder a tight squeeze, and he nearly fainted with surprise.

And when she leaned in closer, he thought that he might faint.

But she didn't kiss him. She whispered in his ear three simple words. "Keep writing Morty," Jessica said.

By the time he opened his eyes, she was gone, and the hallway was filled with kids again, and once more, he was alone.

It was boring being Morty Smith. Everyday was pretty much the same. He had a routine whenever he got home. Get a snack, do his homework, play some video games, then watch TV. He never did anything with anyone else really; they all did their own thing, and he was left to his own devices more often than not until dinnertime.

His mother worked late at the veterinary hospital where she worked as a senior horse surgeon. His dad might help him with his homework if he asked, but otherwise, he was either watching TV in the den or doing whatever grownups did alone in the bedroom. Morty knew better than to intrude. His sister was usually too engrossed in phone calls with friends or with boys or she was on her phone playing games or texting. (This didn't really bother him as they didn't really have too much in common anyway.)

So Morty bided his time until dinner, during which the family struggled to maintain some form of meaningful conversation with each other before promptly scattering to the four winds right after the meal was done.

After dinner was his favorite time of the day. Because after dinner was when Morty locked himself in his room and wrote until his fingers grew tired from writing and he fell asleep most nights drooling onto his notebook.

When he read his own writing in the morning before going to school for the day, Morty was often amazed at his own words. It wasn't that he thought his writing was the greatest-in fact he didn't think he really had that great a vocabulary-but the stories themselves seemed like something someone else had made up…..not him! Some stories were funny, but others were terrifying….He wasn't sure if the Grandpa he was getting to know in these stories was the hero or the villain. Some made him laugh. Others brought him close to tears, and some of them actually did even make him start to cry.

He wanted to share these stories with his mom, but he was afraid….What if they made her angry? He'd wanted Granpda Rick to come across as likeable. But in the end, Morty began to feel an unexpected and overwhelming disgust towards his own semi-fictional character. He didn't want his mother to think he hated his own family member-but how could he hate one that he'd never even met?

His mother didn't even have any pictures of him. In the stories, Rick had crazy bright blue hair…..though Morty wasn't sure why he'd chosen such a thing. He was also an alcoholic, which he doubted his mother would approve of. She'd never once mentioned anything about alcoholism running in the family, though both Morty and Summer had caught their mother in a horribly drunken state on more than one occasion.

His mother also didn't like to talk about her dad much. The one time she had was on Morty's thirteenth birthday. She'd taken him out to the backyard so that she could bestow upon him a very special present: the only present that her dad had ever given to her. It was a telescope. "You always wanted to see the moon," she smiled at him proudly, beaming as she unveiled the gift, "now, you can!"

"Awww COOOL!" Morty cried out, completely flabbergasted that they'd even trust him with something like this. "This is really MINE!?" He didn't stutter; he was too overwhelmed with excitement as he admired the gift.

"Great," Summer snickered from behind him, "Now he can be even more of a nerd than he already is! Way to go guys."

"Q-QUIET-S-S-SUMMER!" Morty snapped at her, but his sister just rolled her eyes.

His Dad put a proud arm around Morty. "She's just jealous, son," he noted with a conspiratorial wink, "because you got the more expensive gift this year."

"Do you like it?" His mother smiled proudly at him as well, eagerly awaiting an answer.

"I-it's AWESOME," Morty breathed. "Thanks Mom! Dad! Hey! Can we set it up tonight?"

"Sure!" Jerry Smith grinned excitedly, "It's supposed to be a clear night, I don't see why not!"

"It's a warm night," his mother added, "how about a barbeque?"

"Alright!" Morty whooped.

That night they were able to see more than just the Moon; they even saw Saturn's rings and Jupiter's colors. They cooked hot dogs and hamburgers and ate dinner together under the stars. It was the best gift that Morty Smith had ever hoped to have.

There would have been only one way that his birthday could have been better: which was if his Grandpa Rick could have been there…..but Morty knew that was just a pipe dream….because he didn't even know if his grandpa was alive or dead….nobody liked to talk about him….and so Morty got to know him the only way he knew how….through stories….and his own mind.

To be continued...Rick and Morty for 100 years! ~