Chapter Text
Flashback to the night Topanga arrived sopping wet on the Matthews’ doorstep:
”Topanga, your parents don’t know you’re here, do they?” Amy asks, concern written on her face as she tries to fathom why (and how) Topanga decided to walk all this way back to Cory in the rain.
“No, no they don’t,” Eric adds, amused.
Then Alan chimes in, “Topanga, your parents are going to be very worried about you.”
Topanga furrows her brow, frustrated adults don’t understand the love between her and Cory. “Why would they be worried about me now? They weren’t worried about me when they decided to move. I told them how much Cory meant to me and how I couldn’t be away from him. They said I was too young to say things like that, that I didn’t know.”
“So you ran away from them?” Alan questions, puzzled.
Topanga raises her eyebrows, locking eyes with Alan. “I ran away to Cory.”
………………
After Cory’s parents call Topanga’s to alert them of her whereabouts, Amy helps Topanga out of her wet clothes to give her dry ones and allows her to stay the night with Morgan in her room—despite Amy’s reservations about Cory and Topanga being under the same roof overnight. She knows how young, in love, teenagers can be.
The moment everyone meets downstairs for breakfast is the moment Cory pops the question: “Why doesn’t Topanga just live with us? It’s perfect. It’ll prepare us for our life together in the future.”
Amy takes a break from her egg whisking to give her middle child one cold, hard look. “Absolutely not. There is no way I will let two teenagers who are only dating live under the same roof. Not going to happen. Sorry.”
Alan sighs at his blunt wife and tries to explain before feelings can be completely hurt, “Look, Cory and Topanga, what I think Amy is trying to convey is it isn’t healthy for two dating young people to spend every waking moment together. It just isn’t. What if you get sick of each other?”
“That could never happen, Mr. Matthews. Never. We love each other. How can people in love lose that feeling? I mean, apart from my parents,” Topanga insists.
Before a full-on argument can ensue, the phone rings.
Amy puts the phone on speaker, at the request of Topanga’s parents.
“Hello dear. We are glad you are safe and sound. Is it true you don’t want to live with your dear old dad?”
“Dad? Where’s mom?” Topanga wonders, unsure exactly how this divorce would pan out. She hadn’t exactly stayed long enough to find out where each parent would live. She was only with her parents when they were still in a hotel waiting for the moving trucks to arrive.
“Mom is now officially living on her own in the bustling heart of the city, sweetheart, and I am here in a modest apartment on the outskirts. Now, I need to know so I can relay the message to your mom. Are you or are you not going to choose a home with myself or your mom?”
“NO. I’m staying with Cory,” Topanga insists.
“Actually, that’s not quite true. She stayed the night with us, but we just don’t have room for her at our house, Mr. Lawrence,” Alan says. “Since she doesn’t want to leave Philadelphia or her friends here, do you have someone in mind that could take her in?”
After a pause, Topanga’s dad responds, “Well, there is an aunt. I’ll call and get back to you on that. Topanga, I love you, Pumpkin.”
And before Topanga can argue her case further, the line goes dead, and she must await the verdict.