by Bailey B
Danika sniffles and peeks over the pillow at me. “How is it okay? How is any of this okay, Logan? I—” But before she can finish her sentence, she crawls to the side of the bed and throws up again.
When she collapses on the mattress I say, “I’ll be right back.”
I leave her in my room, lights off, and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. On the way back I grab a rag and wet it in the bathroom sink for her head. The thought of grabbing crackers crosses my mind but I doubt she’s hungry.
When I get back into the room, Danika is out cold again. I set the water on the bedside table and place the rag over her head. This whole situation sucks. I’d turned last night around and then fucking Gunner and Melody had to go and ruin it. I should be mad at Rachel too. After all, she was the one who actually drugged Danika, but if she hadn’t told us what was going on Danika would be a lot worse off. So, I guess she’s somewhat pardoned.
Danika’s phone dings for the hundredth time. Her dad has left a million messages. By the looks of things, she wasn’t supposed to be out all night.
No one has ever worried about me the way he does her. I remember the first weekend I stayed out and didn’t tell anyone where I was. I expected to get my ass reamed when I came home that Monday, but it was like my parents didn’t even notice I was gone.
I was twelve.
Fucking twelve!
When I finally did make it home, the only thing Mom was pissed about was that I didn’t take the trash out that morning and we missed the pickup. I should go next door and tell Mr. Winters what happened. He’s a caring parent, unlike mine.
With a heavy hand I knock on the mahogany door at 202 Willow Street. My knuckles beat against the grain with equal parts determination and fear. I can do this.
Mr. Winters peers at me through the windowpanes with a curious eye. He opens the door, hands on his hips, an amused yet cautious grin on his lips. “Tell me why you’re at my door, and where my daughter is.”
29
Logan
“I…” My voice cracks. I clear my throat pushing down the nerves creating a knot inside me. I stand up straighter and roll my shoulders back. I’ve never had a girlfriend and even though Danika and I aren’t there yet, seeing Mr. Winters today feels a heck of a lot different than it did last night. All of this is new territory for me and on top of it; I have to be the bearer of bad news. “I saw your texts to Danika and wanted to inform you she’s okay.”
Mr. Winters steps onto the welcome mat, forcing me back a step. He’s a lot more intimidating this morning too, but I get it. We’re talking about Danika. “And how do you know about my texts?”
“Because I saw her phone.”
Mr. Winters lips press together in a firm line. His patience with me grows thin, as does most adults sooner or later. “Logan, I’m going to ask this as nicely as possible but please don’t mistake my docile manner for weakness. I will end you if I have to.”
I swallow hard, feeling the severity in his words. I’m not a pussy by any means, but something about Mr. Winters tells me he knows no one would notice if I disappear, let alone care. I might not be a parent, but the urge to protect Danika from everyone and everything at times is consuming. I can only imagine how strong that feeling must be for him. “Why do you have my daughter's phone?”
I take a deep breath, wanting to get all of this out as fast as possible. “Because some asshats drugged Danika last night and her friend Sarah and I saved her before anything bad could happen so she’s sleeping it off in my room but she’s throwing up a lot and I’m worried because I don’t know what’s normal and what’s not when it comes to roofies because I’ve never drugged anyone before and swear I don’t plan on it.”
“Damnit Logan you should have led with that.” Mr. Winters pushes past me and runs across his front yard to mine. Without waiting for me to catch up, he pushes the door open and walks into my house. “Danika!”
“She’s this way.” I lead him to my room, ignoring a nosey Piper peeking through a crack in her door. It’s the first I’ve seen of Piper since she got home. I need to check on her and apologize for not going to the hospital. But right now, Danika comes first.
“Shit,” Mr. Winters mumbles, kneeling by the bed.
Danika looks like death is knocking at her door. Her olive skin is a sickly yellow color and from the doorway I can see she’s soaked the bed from either sweat, piss, or vomit. Whatever it is, I’ll clean it up. I hope it’s sweat.
Mr. Winters presses two fingers to Danika’s wrist and looks at his watch, the wrinkle between his dark brows growing deeper with each passing second. He pushes his daughter's hair from her face and stares. “Her pulse is strong.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Winters. I’ll take care of her.”
30
Danika
“You scared me, baby girl,” Dad says as I walk through the door. My head is pounding but not nearly as bad as when I woke up. I still can’t believe I slept the day away in Logan’s bed.
Everything after mine and Logan’s kiss in Jake’s kitchen is a blur of memories pushed together. The party itself and ride to Logan’s house is nothing but black. But today has mushed into flickers of Logan at my side with a bucket. At some point I took a shower. I get a glimpse of myself standing under the water’s spray while I search my thoughts, but who put me there and how I got dressed after is gone.
Dad’s big arms wrap around me, holding me tight like they did the day mom died. “For a second, I thought I was going to lose you too.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I want to cry again, but there aren’t any tears left. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. First mom. Then maybe me. And he left me at Logan’s. Dad is the strongest man I know.
Dad smoothes my hair and places a kiss on my forehead like he’s done countless times when everything fell apart. “Shhh. You’re alright and that’s all that matters.”
I nod and sniffle, pulling away from his embrace. Guilt rears its ugly face, reminding me that I spent too many days crying last year. It doesn’t matter that my mom died or that school had become my personal hell, he was suffering too. Dad never got the chance to grieve because he was too busy taking care of me. I’m nearly eighteen. He shouldn’t have to keep drying my tears. “I should get changed and bring Logan back his clothes.”
Dad nods, noticing for the first time that I’m wearing a much too big for me Machine Gun Kelly band Tee and a pair of basketball shorts. Upstairs, I take another shower. There’s something comforting about using my own soaps and shampoos. Although, when I rinsed the vomit off at Logan’s earlier, Piper’s shampoo smelled oddly similar. I wrap myself in a towel and gaze into the mirror. Everything about me looks the same. Same long dark hair. Same brown eyes. Same olive skin, but I feel different.
When my ex-boyfriend Austin circulated the naked photos, he fabricated of me around school, I felt broken. Defeated. Powerless because no one took my side. No one cared to listen when I said the pictures were fake or that he was lying. All of that paired with my mom’s death, I spiraled into a dark place. Not as dark as Piper, but close.
Thinking back to everything that happened last night, my so-called friends stripped me of my power again. Gunner used me to win a bet. Then he and Melody drugged me, physically making me powerless for what I can only assume was retaliation. The same sickening veil of darkness falls over me again and I feel myself spiraling.
By the time Monday comes, everyone will have their own version of what happened yesterday. I’ll probably be bullied again and have a repeat of last year. I close my eyes and press my head against the glass. Why does this keep happening to me?
My eyes snap open when someone knocks on my bedroom door. “Just a minute!”
I hurry to my closet and slip a loose pink shirt over my head then reach for a pair of pajama shorts. Even though I slept most of the day, I’m still tired. I feel the downward cycle repeating. I was tired a lot last year.
Someone knocks
again as I finish pulling my shorts over my hips. I open the door and Logan stands there, hands in the pockets of his board shorts which surprisingly are plaid tan color and not black. Even more surprising is his solid white shirt.
“Hey,” I say blatantly staring. My heart flips, pushing some of the darkness away. “What are you doing here?”
“I know I need to give you space. You’ve been through some fucked up shit the last twenty-four hours, but I took your dress to the dry cleaner. I didn’t know what to do with it and my dad’s friend owns the place. So, he met me there when I told him it was an emergency.” Logan extends a yellow claim-ticket for me to grab. “It’ll be ready for you to pick up after school tomorrow.”
“Oh.” I take the slip of paper and turn into my room. I set it on my desk beside the box labeled books that’s waiting to be unpacked. “Thanks.”
Logan stands in the doorway looking around. Funny how just a few days ago I was lying in his bed for the first time watching a movie and now he’s here. I feel like we’ve come full circle, only the happy fun part of our budding friendship was skipped. Instead, we’ve been plunged into a rough patch. The kind of roughness new whatevers don’t survive, no matter how tantalizing the spark is between them.
Logan rubs the back of his neck. “So about tomorrow…”
“What about tomorrow?”
“I went out on a limb and texted Sarah.” He runs a hand through his perfectly disheveled hair. “I told her I was taking you to school. After everything that went down, I don’t trust anyone right now and I want to keep you safe.”
“I can count on one hand the amount of people I trust right now,” I whisper. Logan, Cooper, Piper, and Dad. That’s it. Even though Sarah helped Logan last night, she still placed a bet against me. Or on me. I really don’t know, it’s confusing. What I do know is that friends don’t make bets about other friends behind their backs.
“Thanks,” I tell him, my voice cracking like my exterior. “But dad bought me a car last night. I can drive myself.”
Logan extends his arms, inviting me in for a hug. I step into the embrace, letting his warmth blanket me. I close my eyes and for a moment everything feels like it’ll be okay. The weight of what happened last year isn’t smothering me, and my anxiety about tomorrow fades away. Here in my room, it’s just me and him.
Logan presses his lips to my temple, bringing back the butterflies I felt last night. “Then we can take your car, but I’m not letting you show up to school alone.”
31
Danika
My alarm isn’t set to go off for another thirty minutes, but I lay awake in my bed, memories of last year swallowing me whole. I never told Dad how bad the bullying got. As a guy, he wouldn’t understand and as an adult he really wouldn’t understand.
The torture I was put through wasn’t limited to the school walls. Austin, my ex, and his friends—friends that used to be my friends—bombarded my social media with degrading memes and comments and pictures. Those, of course, fueled the inferno around me. I tried to stay strong, always putting on a mask of armor whenever anyone was around. But eventually even the toughest of armors crack.
Dad knocks at my door, probably to tell me he’s leaving. He likes to get to his office early. Why? I have no freaking clue, but it’s been this way for as long as I can remember. As the door creeps open, I pull the covers over my head and roll onto my side, turning my back to him.
He sighs and then the edge of my bed dips. “You look tired.”
My heart beats a little faster, the veil of darkness weighing me down lifts a little and then comes down harder than ever. “What are you doing here, Logan?”
His hand finds my back, rubbing small circles over the blanket. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. “I talked to your dad this morning. He’s worried about you.”
I sit up, pushing the blanket behind me in the process and glare at him. “Why are you being so nice all of the sudden? Everything about you changed at homecoming. Is there some bet or something you’re in on too? Because if so, just tell your friends you won and leave me alone!”
I throw myself back onto my pillow and reach for my blanket to hide under again. I know I’m lashing out, but I’m hurt and angry and drowning in memories. I should skip today and maybe until I’m able to build my armor again. If Gunner or Melody see me like this, they’ll know they’ve won. Usually, I don’t give up without a fight, but right now I don’t have it in me.
Logan yanks the blanket off my body and discards it on the floor. He grabs my shoulder and rolls me onto my back. I turn my head refusing to look at him, but he takes my chin between his fingers and forces me to stare at his pretty face. “You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?”
My chin wobbles, and I clench my teeth to keep control of my emotions. All I’ve done the last twenty-four hours is cry. I didn’t think I had any tears left. Apparently, I do.
“I like you, Danika. I like you a lot. I want us,” Logan wiggles his finger between us, “to be a thing. A real, we’re together exclusively, thing.”
“That’s called a relationship.”
“Fine. Cool. Whatever it is, I want it with you. I was going to say something last night but then everything got fucked up.” Logan lets go of my chin and takes my hands, pulling me into a sitting position. “Now, I need you to get up and get dressed. We’re going to face these assholes together. Whatever happens today, I’ve got your back.”
I want to smile, to throw my arms around Logan and tell him how much it means to me that he’s here, but I don’t feel happy. I’m scared. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”
Logan exhales loudly, but he doesn’t sound frustrated. I’m sure he’s used to this kind of moody shit with Piper. She gets it. She’s on the same slippery slope I was on last year, where I feel myself falling down now. Only, Piper’s deeper down the rabbit hole than I ever was.
Logan slides off my bed and walks into my closet. When he comes out a minute later, he sets my only pair of school pants, my black Chucks, and the shirt he sent me home with yesterday on my bed. “Get dressed. I’ll be back in ten minutes and then we are going to school. If you skip today, these fuckers will know they’ve gotten to you and then they’ll never stop.”
Ten minutes later, my front door swings open. It should bother me how Logan waltzes inside like he owns the place, but I don’t have the energy to care. He tosses a black hoodie at me and says, “Put this on.”
Slipping it over my head, I’m surrounded by Logan’s scent, the spicy, heady, smell lifting me a little further out of my darkness.
Logan takes me by the elbow and pulls me into his arms. We stand there for what feels like an eternity, the only sounds are our breaths and beating hearts.
“I like you, Danika,” he says, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating in his chest. “I can’t say that about many people. I think we can both agree that there’s something epic happening between us. As much as I don’t want to be just friends with you, we can go back to that if it’s what you need. Whatever you decide, I’m not going anywhere.”
32
Danika
Logan crouches down, resting his hands on my knees, which are pulled close to my chest. I look at his thick fingers, feeling their warmth penetrate my skin through my pants, then look up into his eyes.
Today Logan wears his glasses for the first time in public since the eighth grade. It’s an attempt to divert the expected chatter from me to him, which might work since he’s transitioned from bad boy with an attitude to sexy nerd overnight.
Personally, I like the glasses. While his current pair is much more stylish than the thick-framed freebies he used to wear, just seeing him in glasses adds an extra level of comfort I wasn’t expecting.
That signature crooked smile greets me as Logan flips his palms over. “Come on, babe.” He pulls me to my feet and immediately wraps his arms around my shoulders.
A group of people approach, merely trying to get into the school buildi
ng, and I freeze. We should have parked further away. Logan pulls the hood over my head, covering most of my face, then whispers “Anytime you start to freak out, just remember, Tad takes it in the ass.”
I laugh and shove Logan in the chest, stepping back from his embrace. I need a second. Between my flipping butterflies and nervous bats, I think I might puke. Surprisingly Logan doesn’t notice my distress. He’s too focused on my mouth.
“There’s that pretty smile.” He takes my hand in his and escorts me into the building. I hug close to his big arm, feeling the weight of a dozen eyes on us.
People whisper as we walk the halls together, but Logan ignores everyone. When we pass Gunner and Melody, Logan puts his arm around my shoulders. I close my eyes, turning my face into his chest. I’m not ready to face them. Not yet.
Reaching my first class, I force myself out of Logan’s arms. Having him as my personal security blanket has been a godsend. If only I could hide in his embrace all day.
I look through the windowpane in the metal door of classroom 1C. My classmates laugh and talk like everything that went down Saturday never happened. I grasp onto the sliver of hope that those jerkfaces kept their mouths shut, but I’m not holding my breath.
Logan presses his lips to my temple and whispers, “You don’t have any classes with them this morning. It’ll be okay.” I nod against his mouth and he continues, “I’ll be here waiting for you when class gets out.”
The first bell rings and Logan leaves me, turning down the hallway. I knew he’d eventually have to go, but I didn't expect my anxiety to skyrocket once he did.
I walk through the row of desks, head down, and take a seat all the way in the back. Outside of a few curious glances, no one says anything to or about me which is a relief but that doesn’t mean people aren’t talking. I saw how fast rumors spread about Piper. I’m not out of the woods yet.