They rang up our items, not looking at us once.
My phone dinged as we were walking out of the store.
Logan: Where are you? I need to see you.
I couldn’t answer. My phone dinged from him four more times before we got home. I shut off my phone.
We sat in my bathroom with the door locked. Mom wasn’t home yet, and all five pregnancy tests were unwrapped, sitting on the sink, waiting for me to pee on each one. I’d drank a whole jug of water, and as I started to feel the urge to use it, Erika made sure to coach me through it.
“You have to pee a little on a stick, then hold it, then another stick, then hold, then another—”
“I get it,” I sassed, annoyed. Not at her, but at myself for being in the current situation. I was supposed to be off to college next weekend, not peeing on five sticks.
Once the deed was done, we waited ten minutes. The packs said they’d only take two minutes, but I felt as if ten minutes would’ve been more accurate.
“What does a pink line mean on this one?” I asked, picking up the first stick.
“Pregnant,” Erika whispered.
I picked up the second. “And a plus sign?”
“Pregnant.”
My stomach tightened. “And two pink lines?”
She frowned.
Vomit rose to my throat. “And another plus sign?”
“Alyssa…” her voice shook.
“And this one that says pregnant? What does that mean?” Tears were falling down my cheeks, and I wasn’t certain how to make them stop. My breaths sawed in and out, my heartbeats became erratic. I didn’t know what to think about first. Logan? College? Mom? My tears?
“Aly, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out. Don’t panic.” Erika’s hand on my leg was the only thing keeping me from falling to the ground and rocking back and forth in a corner.
“I start college next weekend.”
“And you still will. We just need to figure out—”
“Alyssa!” Mom hollered, walking into the house. “What did I tell you about leaving your shoes in the foyer! Come get these now!”
My hands started shaking uncontrollably as Erika helped me stand up, swiping all of the pregnancy tests into a bag before she shoved them into her oversized purse. “Come on,” she said, washing her hands, forcing me to wash my hands, and then nudging her head toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“No,” I whisper-shouted. “I can’t, I can’t see her right now. I can’t go out there.”
“You can’t just hide in here,” she said, wiping my eyes. “Don’t worry. We won’t say anything to her. Just breathe.”
She walked out of the bathroom first, and I followed behind her.
“Erika? What are you doing here?” Mom asked, with a heightened voice.
“I just thought I’d stop by to visit. Maybe have dinner with you both.”
“It’s rude to just show up for dinner without calling. What if I didn’t get enough food for you? Besides, I was ordering in tonight. Alyssa has to finish packing all of her boxes in her room, even though I told her she should’ve had it done last weekend. And—”
“I’m pregnant.”
Mom’s eyes shot up to me as Erika’s jaw shot to the ground. “What did you just say?”
The moment I said the word once more, the yelling began. She told me what a disappointment I’d become. She screamed her disgust toward me. She said she knew I’d screw up somehow, and called Logan a deadbeat.
“You’ll have an abortion,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s all there is to it. We’ll go to a clinic this week, handle this mishap, and then you’ll leave for college.”
My mind hadn’t even wrapped around the fact that I was pregnant, yet she was already telling me to make it disappear.
“Mom, come on. Let’s not be so irrational,” Erika said, standing up for me, because words weren’t able to escape my closed up throat.
“Irrational?” Mom folded her arms across her chest. She raised an eyebrow with a glassy stare. “No, what’s irrational is getting pregnant five days before starting college. What’s irrational is dating a loser with no life plans. What’s irrational is Alyssa having a child when she hasn’t even grown up herself.”
“He’s not a loser,” I swore about Logan. He was so far from being a loser.
Mom rolled her eyes, and started off toward her office. “I have a case tomorrow, but then we are going to the clinic. Otherwise, you can figure out a way to pay for college yourself. I will not put my money into you going to a school for a fake major, when you’ll end up dropping out and becoming nothing,” she ordered. “You’re just like your father.”
I inhaled sharply, and the knife in my heart dug deeper.
Erika stayed at our place that night, moving furniture around the living room. Rearranging things was how she always got her frustration out. Other times, she broke plates and glasses from her frustration. “She’s being unreasonable, Aly. You don’t have to listen to her, you know. And if she threatens you, don’t take it to heart. I’ll help you figure it out.”
I smiled, then frowned. “I have to tell Logan. He’s been texting me all afternoon, and I haven’t texted back. I don’t know what to say.”
Erika frowned, then frowned some more. “That’s going to be a tough talk, but it should happen sooner than later.”
I swallowed hard, knowing that it had to happen that night.
“I’m worried though, Alyssa. I’ve known Logan for a long time, and he’s not always the most stable person.” Erika wasn’t the biggest fan of Logan, and I couldn’t blame her. He was the boy who almost burned down hers and Kellan’s apartment a year ago after going on a bender with drugs due to his parents belittling and hitting him.
“That’s only five percent,” I murmured.
“What?”
“He’s there ninety-five percent of the time, Erika. Ninety-five percent of the time he’s gentle. He’s kind. But sometimes that five percent slips in, and he’s not himself. He loses the battle between his truths and the lies that his parents feed him. But you can’t judge him on those moments.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because if you judge him solely on his few moments of lows, then you miss out on his beautiful highs.”
When it rained, it poured, and poured, and poured.
I’d seen Logan’s low points quite a few times within the past two years. Whenever it happened, he turned into a person I didn’t recognize. His words slurred, his body wavered, and his voice was always so loud. He was angry, and somewhat mean, whenever he used drugs other than smoking pot. I knew it mostly happened when his parents hurt him, though, when they left abusive scars on his heart. The bruises on one’s heart were always the hardest ones to heal, they seemed to last the longest. When those low moments happened, I knew it was best to just let them pass, because afterwards, he always found his way back to the Logan I loved and adored.
Five percent low, ninety-five percent high.
When I finally turned my phone back on that night, I had fifteen missed text messages from Logan.
Logan: Where are you, High?
Logan: I need you.
Logan: Please. I’m falling apart. My dad just left and I’m not in a good place.
Logan: Alyssa? High?
Logan: Never mind.
Oh no. He was having a low moment. Those were the ones that scared me the most.
Me: I’m here.
He didn’t reply until three in the morning. When he called, I heard it in his voice, how he was so far away.
“I’m on your porch,” he said. When I opened the front door, I gasped. His left eye was swollen shut, his lip busted open. Black and blues took over his normally tan skin tone.
“Lo,” I breathed, reaching for his face. He cringed, stepping backward. “Your dad?”
He didn’t reply as I took him in.
I noticed the twitching first, followed by his impaired coordination. He frantically scratched
at his skin and kept licking his lips.
How far into the shadows did you drive tonight, Logan?
“Can I shower or somethin’? I couldn’t go home tonight.” He sniffled as he tried to widen his left eye, but it wouldn’t budge open.
“Yeah, yeah of course. Come on.”
I led him to my bathroom as he stumbled beside me. Once we made it, I shut the door behind us. I reached for a small cloth, soaking it in warm water as he sat on top of the toilet. As I started pressing it to his face, he hissed. “It’s fine,” he argued, pulling away.
“No. It’s not. You can’t open your eye.”
“But I can still see you.” His mouth hung open slightly before he went back to licking his lips. “Were you busy earlier?”
I blinked, not looking into his one open eye. I soaked the towel more. “Yeah.”
“Too busy to text?”
“Yeah, Lo. I’m sorry.” My breaths quickened as I eyed the exit. I needed a moment away.
“Hey,” he whispered, placing his finger under my chin, raising my stare to meet his one eye. “I’m okay.”
“Are you high?”
He hesitated, before laughing. “Fuck you for asking that, High. Look at my face. What do you think?”
I flinched. He never spoke to me in such a way, except for when he was almost completely down the rabbit hole. I should’ve answered his texts.
“I’m going to get some ice for your eye, okay? You can start the shower.” I stood up to leave, but he called after me.
“High?”
“Lo?”
He swallowed hard, and one tear fell from his eye which was shut. “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know why I said that to you.”
I gave him a tight smile and hurried away.
My hands were shaking as I went to grab a baggie to put ice in for Logan. I’d never seen him so beaten up, or out of it before. What did your father do to you? Why was he such a monster?
“High?” I leaped at the sound of Logan’s voice behind me. Hairs stood up on my arms as I turned to see him holding something in his hand. “What’s this?”
“Oh my gosh. Logan, I wanted to talk to you about that.” I stared at the pregnancy test in his hand, one that must’ve been left behind in the bathroom earlier that afternoon.
“What do two pink lines mean?” he asked, hardly able to hold himself up and he swayed.
You’re too far gone for this talk tonight. “We should talk tomorrow,” I offered, approaching him to place my hand on his shoulder. He yanked himself away.
“No, we should talk about this now,” he said loudly.
“Lo, can you keep it down? My mom’s sleeping.”
“I don’t give a damn. Are you pregnant?”
“We shouldn’t do this tonight.”
“What’s going on?” was asked behind me. I cringed, seeing Mom walk into the kitchen wearing her robe. When her tired eyes locked with Logan’s she grew fully awake. “What are you doing here? You need to leave, now.”
“Mom, come on,” I begged, seeing the hate in her eyes.
“Jesus Christ. Can’t you see we’re h-h-having a fucking t-t-talk?” Logan slurred.
That wasn’t helping the situation.
Mom hurried over to him, grabbing his arm. “You are trespassing. Leave before I call the cops.”
He yanked his arm away from her, stumbling backwards, hitting the fridge. “Don’t touch me. I’m talking to your daughter.”
Mom’s eyes shot over to me. “And this is exactly why we are going to have the abortion. He’s a mess.”
Logan stood up as straight as he could, his eyes wide with disgust. “Abortion? You’re having an abortion?”
My body was shaking, my eyes glassed over. “No. Wait. Mom, stop. You’re not helping.”
“You really spoke about an abortion?” Logan asked again.
“We are getting it on Thursday. I already called to set it up,” Mom said, which was a lie. I was eighteen and had the right to do what I wanted with my body, not what my mother found fit.
Logan let out a low breath. “Wow. So you were gonna do this without talking to me? You don’t think I’d be a good dad or something?”
Mom laughed sarcastically.
Again, not helping.
“That’s not what I said, Lo.”
“That is what you said! That’s what you meant!” he hollered, his eyes dull, as if the light I loved so much in him had been sucked from his entire existence.
“You’re not listening to me because you’re high, Logan.”
“Which isn’t anything new,” Mom muttered under her breath, disgust stinging her words.
“Mom, will you stop?” I begged.
“No. She’s right. I’m always high, right? That’s all you people think of me,” he said, gesturing toward Mom and me. “You and all your fucking money in your big ass house with no fucking struggles.” As he stumbled around, he accidentally knocked over our knife set, sending them across the floor. Both Mom and I jumped out of fright.
Oh, Lo… Come back…
“You need to leave. Now.” Mom grabbed her cell phone and held it up. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Mom, don’t. Please.”
“No. I’m leaving. You can have this all,” he hissed. “Your money. Your house. Your life. Your abortion. What the hell ever. I’m gone.”
He hurried away, and tears fell down my cheeks as I stared at Mom. “What’s wrong with you?!”
“Me?” she screeched, shocked. “He’s a disaster waiting to happen. I knew you were naïve, Alyssa Marie. But I didn’t know how extremely stupid you could be. He’s an addict. He’s sick, and he’s not going to get better. He’ll drag you down into the flames before you bring him fresh air. You should give up on him. He’s a lost cause. Kellan and you both are his enablers. You’re allowing this to keep happening and it’s only going to get worse.”
I took a deep breath before racing after Logan.
He was walking toward the gate to climb back over it. “Logan, wait!” I cried.
He turned around to see me, his chest rising and falling heavily. “I let you in,” he said, his voice harsh.
My voice, was the complete opposite. Weak. Pained. Scared. “I know.”
“I let you in, even though I told you it wasn’t a good thing. I’m not someone who loves, Alyssa. But you fucking made me love you.”
“I know.”
“So, you made me love you. And I loved you hard, because I don’t know any other way. I loved you to my core, because you made this life seem a little bit more worth living. And then, out of nowhere, you turn on me. What did I do? Why would you… I told you my dreams. I told you everything.” He stepped closer to me, his voice lowering, shaking. When our eyes locked he shook his head once, stepping backward. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I asked, bewildered.
“I’m not my mother,” he snapped.
“I know you’re not.”
“Then why the hell are you looking at me like I am?”
“Logan… Please just hear me out.”
He walked over to me, and our bodies melted together as they always did. His forehead fell against mine, his tears brushing against my skin as my hands rested on his chest. We wrapped our arms around each other, both of our bodies heated from the inside out, burning to know the reasons why life had to be so hard. His lips fell against my ear, and his hot breaths brushed against my skin as he said the words that scorned my soul.
“I never want to see you again.”
He disappeared that night.
He disappeared from my life in a blink of an eye. The late night calls vanished. His gentle voice was gone. Each night I wondered where he was, if he were safe. Whenever I stopped by his apartment, he wasn’t there. Whenever I called him, it went straight to voicemail. Kellan said he hadn’t heard from his brother, neither. He hadn’t seen him, and he was just as terrified as me.
When I told Mom I wasn’t going to g
ive up the baby, she screamed at me, and went ahead with her threats, and cancelled her payment plan for my college. Erika and Kellan let me move into their small apartment as I tried to find my footing.
Each night Kellan and I came back to town, and we’d drive around to the different places that Logan might’ve been. We spoke to his friends, but always seemed a minute too late.
He was at parties, but seemed to always vanish. His friend Jacob told us Logan had been using a lot lately, but he hadn’t been able to talk to him.
“I’ll keep an eye out for him,” he swore. “If I run into him again, I’ll let you know.”
I felt a knot in my stomach.
What if Logan crossed a line?
What if he couldn’t come back from this hurt he was feeling?
It was all my fault.
11
Alyssa
I hated receiving phone calls during the middle of the night. They always shook my nerves. No good news came at three or four in the morning. Unfortunately, I’d had way too many of those calls during the past few months, all because of one boy who set my heart on fire. Whenever the phone rang, my mind went to the worst possible situations—an illness, an accident, death. Some nights I’d stay up with heavy eyes, waiting for the phone calls. When I didn’t get them, sometimes I’d dial his number just to hear his voice, just to make sure he was okay.
“I’m okay, Alyssa Marie Walters,” he’d say.
“You’re okay, Logan Francis Silverstone,” I’d reply, before falling asleep to the sounds of his breathing.
But lately, we weren’t talking.
When I worried, I couldn’t call him.
When I was scared, his sounds weren’t on the other line.
So that night when the phone rang, I was more afraid than ever before.
“Alyssa?” a voice said into my cell phone, not Logan’s, even though his name was the one that appeared on my screen.
“Who is this?” I asked, sleep still stinging my eyelids.
“It’s Jacob…Logan’s friend. I…” He hesitated. “Look, I’m at this party, and I found Logan. He’s not doing too well. I didn’t know who to call.”
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