by Bailey B
As promised when class ends Logan stands in the hallway, waiting. He puts his arm around my shoulder again, attracting more looks than I’ve had all morning. Although, that was his plan. Take everyone’s eyes off me. I guess it would have worked better if we weren’t attached at the hip, but I’ll take the curious stares if it means feeling safe.
I survive my next two classes because of Logan. He’s thought of everything. Dad provided medical excuses, requiring both of us to sit out at PE all week, which Logan hand delivered to Coach Riley. Being the dick that he is, Coach pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and called my dad. Just to verify the notes were real.
They were.
As for Biology, Logan had a note for that class too. Apparently, there was a death in my family, so I did not complete the weekend reading and was not ready for today’s quiz. I spent the class period silently reading the chapters while everyone else tested.
Walking out of class, I don’t have to search for Logan. I don’t know how he does it, but he’s always at my door, waiting for the bell to ring. Waiting for me.
I smile, feeling a little more like myself, taking my place under his arm. For a split second I forget what’s next in my schedule. I feel like a girl should in the arms of the guy she’s crushing on. Happy.
That bubble bursts as soon as I see the double doors leading into the cafeteria. The veil of darkness that had just begun to lift falls over me again. I think I’m going to be sick.
“Do you want to go through the line and get food?” he asks as we approach the cafeteria.
I shake my head, my stomach in knots because I’m officially out of time. I have to face Melody and Gunner. I have two options: pretend nothing happened or call them out, which could either lead to a fight or an emotional breakdown. All of my options suck.
My feet are heavy. Each step is a struggle as Logan puts his hand on my lower back and guides me into the cafeteria. At this point, blending in with the crowd at the door, I’m probably imagining the eyes on me. Real or not, I feel them and don’t like the attention. I shove my hands into the hoodie’s pocket and clench my fist until the ache from my nails alleviates the ache in my chest.
I hold my breath as we draw nearer. Melody smirks, whispering something in Gunner’s ear, eliciting a laugh from him. Gunner sits on the table, tapping his thumbs against his phone, actively avoiding me. At this point, in their eyes, I don’t exist.
I’m okay with that.
Logan passes our usual table and makes a beeline to Piper’s, which is disconcerting. I’m pretty sure everyone, who hadn’t noticed me before, is staring now because sitting with Piper is the equivalent of committing social suicide. If you’re not a Harris, you just don’t do it
I’m doing it.
“How are you holding up?” Cooper asks.
While I don’t eat meat, I still appreciate the smell of good food. Cooper’s shepherd’s pie smells halfway appealing, which makes me realize I should probably eat something. All I’ve had the last twenty-four hours is a slice of toast, but I can’t eat. I think I’ll be sick if I do. “I don’t know. I expected to be tormented about what went down this weekend, but everyone’s been eerily quiet.”
“I’ll be right back,” Logan says, leaving me at the table with Cooper and Piper. The nervous flipping in my gut amplifies but not to the extent it was this morning. Logan wouldn’t have left if I wasn’t in good hands.
“You’re fucking dead!” I hear Logan shout as something knocks a trash can over. More like someone.
“Shit,” Cooper mutters, jumping up. I spin in my seat and search the room for Logan. Following Cooper with my gaze, it doesn’t take me long to find him standing by our old table.
Gunner climbs to his feet and wipes the blood leaking from his lip with his thumb. The whole cafeteria has gone silent, watching the interaction. Even the cafeteria monitors seem to be in shock. People aren’t used to seeing Logan fight. Not on campus.
Gunner looks over at me and winks.
Acid climbs my throat. I cover my mouth, willing it to stay down while ignoring the burn.
Cooper—yes, Cooper— snaps, lunging forward and hitting Gunner so hard the crack of his jaw echoes in the cafeteria. There’s a collective gasp, breaking the silence in the room. He steps forward, standing over a groaning Gunner and says, “Don’t even fucking think of looking at Danika again.”
“Mr. Harris!” Principal White shouts. “In my office. Now!” He huffs adding, “Mr. Wells, go to the nurse. You’re bleeding all over my floor.”
Logan kicks the trashcan hard enough to leave a dent and storms out of the cafeteria. I groan and fold my arms on the table, then lay my head down.
Today has been emotionally draining and it’s only half done. I should have stuck to my gut and ditched.
33
Logan
Fucking Cooper. I had everything under control. I’m not Piper. I don’t need him to fight my battles. It’s not like he ever has before.
I clench my fist and slam it in the locker nearest me. The sound echoes in the empty hallway. I hit it again and again until the rage in my chest begins to dissipate. I open and close my hand, looking at my bruised knuckles. At least they’re not bleeding.
The bell rings and I realize I ran out on Danika. I turn back towards the double doors, fighting the crowd leaving the cafeteria. Everyone is rushing to get to their next class.
I need to get in.
When I make it inside Danika is gone. Everyone is gone. I run down the hall to her next class and peer through the window but she’s not in there either. I skim my hand through my hair, anxiety pricking at my neck.
I promised to keep Danika safe. I let my own issues cloud my judgement and I failed her. Again. I slam my fist into the side of the locker nearest me. Fuck!
I press my fingers into my shoulder muscles and crack my neck. I’ll find her. I’m sure she’s fine. I do what I should have done the moment I realized Danika was gone and take my phone out.
Me: Where’d you go?
I wait a few seconds, staring at the screen. There’s nothing. No tiny thought dots. No read acknowledgement. Nothing.
Me: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to run out on you.
Where is she?
Me: Blink twice if you’re alive.
Me: Just kidding. But seriously. Where are you? I’m getting worried.
It feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime for Danika to respond. I run my fingers through my hair again, scrambling. Someone has to know where she went. Not like she can leave. I have her keys.
Me: Have you seen Danika?
Sarah: Not since lunch. Why?
Me: She didn’t wait for me to walk her to her next class and she’s not here.
…
Sarah: I sent a text but she didn’t respond.
Me: She’s probably pissed.
Sarah: Why? I wasn’t the one who drugged her.
Me: She knows about the bet.
Sarah: Well, shit.
The final bell rings. Seems impossible it’s only been two minutes. I hesitate in the hallway, hoping Danika will run from the bathrooms or somewhere in the nick of time to make her next class.
I’m not surprised when she doesn’t.
I head to the parking lot, my last-ditch effort of where she might go, but she’s not by her car. She’s not anywhere. My phone dings in my pocket. I pull it out, dropping the damn thing with my butterfingers.
Piper: Where are you going?
My heart sinks to my feet, hoping the message would be from Danika. I check her messages. There's no change. My texts sit in her phone, unseen.
Me: Nowhere until I find Danika.
Piper: Stand on the trunk and look to your left.
Me: I am not standing on her car. It’s brand new.
Piper: Your loss.
If the hatch dents, Danika’s going to kill me but at this point I’m desperate. I’ll fix whatever I break. I hop my ass on the trunk first then shimmy myself into a standing
position. I look to my left, as directed, and there—under Piper’s favorite hideout—are two blobs of black.
“Thank fuck.” I jump down and run all the way to them.
Piper smiles up at me, as I slow my stride. The oak tree’s large branches fan out, shadowing the ground. A cool reprieve to the hot Florida sun. “Took you long enough.”
I roll my eyes and plop down beside Danika. The relief of having found her is unreal. I thread my fingers with hers, finally feeling peace. “Bite me.”
Piper scrunches her nose. “You’re not my type.”
“Are you okay?” I ask Danika. She looks fine, but there’s no telling what’s going on in that pretty little head of hers.
“Are you?” She flips my hand over, examining my knuckles. Outside of being a little swollen, they’re fine. They’ve seen worse days.
She lifts my hand, kissing each red mark. A shiver runs through me. I’ve never had anyone kiss my wounds better. Mom used to rub her thumb over my cuts and say you’re fine. I nod. “I’m sorry I ran out on you.”
“What did Gunner say?”
“Does it even matter?” Piper asks, saving me from telling Danika he said she was a shitty lay. I know they haven’t slept together, but it still pissed me off. Gunner shouldn’t be smearing Danika’s name like that.
“I guess not.” Danika’s gaze rises to meet mine. “Can we go? I don’t think I can take any more today.”
34
Logan
It’s been a long, hard week, but every day Danika gets a little better. I don’t know what she’s going through. Don’t know how to help her because she’s not talking much. So, I take a page out of Cooper’s handbook.
I’ve been by Danika’s side as much as possible which means I’ve skipped football practice all week. I drive her to and from school; sometimes in her car, sometimes in mine. I even convinced Principal White into temporarily changing my schedule to match hers. And you know what?
It’s working.
Every day I see that flicker of light in Danika’s eyes get a little brighter. She smiles a little more and laughs a little harder.
I’m doing it. I’m the glue that’s putting her back together and that feeling is better than any high I’ve ever felt.
I lift my arm and wrap it around Danika as she crawls in bed beside me. She rests her head on my shoulder and sets a bowl of popcorn on my lap. We’re halfway through season one of Netflix’s Love is Blind and Danika finally understands what all the Jessica-memes are about.
“Do you think any of it is real?” she asks.
I watch her watch the TV, trying to understand where the question comes from. There’s a longing in her eyes and I think I get it. She wants to know if the love is real. If people can fall head over heels with each other in such a short amount of time. I move the bowl of popcorn off my lap and to the bedside table.
“Hey, I was eating that,” she whines, but she’s not angry. If she was, her brows would pinch together, creating a tiny wrinkle on her forehead.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask.
She shrugs and looks down at her stomach. “I don’t know. Maybe.” Her gaze raises to meet mine. She looks so vulnerable. So beautiful. “Have you?”
“Once.” I slip my arm underneath Danika and I shift her so she’s sitting on top of me. I rest my hands on her thighs, which are spread open, and try to ignore the growing sensation in my pants. I clear my throat and look her in the eyes. If I look anywhere else, all bets are off. “I fell in love once. It was fast, and hard, but I have no regrets.”
Danika shifts her weight, unintentionally rubbing against me. I chew the inside of my bottom lip and do my best to focus on her next question. “How did it happen?”
I smirk because not too long ago I was asking myself this. “Unexpectedly. This girl, she irked the hell out of me. Consumed my thoughts, took over my dreams. At first, I thought I might have hated her, but then she started dating someone else and I realized that fire in my chest was jealousy. From there the floodgates opened and I was utterly helpless.”
“What happened to her?”
I shrug. “Nothing. She had some shit go down and I never got around to making her mine.”
Danika sucks on her bottom lip and zones out for a minute. My heart races, nervous but also hoping she’ll figure out who the girl is. I slide my hands up her thighs and give her hips a squeeze. “Hey? You okay?”
Danika snaps out of her trance and leans down. Her lips press against mine for a timid kiss. She pulls back a touch and then presses against me again. I wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her tighter against me and her hips begin to rock. I don’t think she realizes she’s doing it because she lets out a small gasp and then a tiny moan.
Danika
I’m not struggling with what happened to me at the party. I get it. My drink was drugged. My friends saved me. Happy ending.
It’s what didn’t happen that haunts me. Every time I close my eyes, I am plagued with a different nightmare. My mind keeps coming up with new things every night, some worse than the last. It’s like my dreams have turned into twisted BDSM pornos I can’t shut off no matter how much they disgust me.
I should be dreaming about how epic the kiss between Logan and I was, but that glorious memory was stolen. I’ve thought about what it would be like to kiss Logan again a lot this week. Mostly when we’re at home, lying on the couch or in his bed. I don’t know why we’re always at his house, mine is empty ninety-percent of the time, but that’s where we end up.
With my body pressed against Logan like this, I can feel how much he wants me. I want him to. Maybe not all the way, yet, but I want him to chase away my nightmares. I want him to light those grenades inside me and blow up my demons. Especially now that I know he might be in love with me.
Call me conceited, but there’s no way he could have been talking about anybody else.
I brush my tongue across Logan’s bottom lip and that's all the invitation he needs. Electricity pulls down my arms, bolts of hot energy scorching me to my fingertips. I thread my fingers through his hair, finally touching those loose, disheveled curls of his.
Logan groans against my mouth and rolls me onto my back. I wrap my legs around him, our lips never breaking. My whole body shudders, but I’m not cold.
I’ve never been kissed like this, like the whole world begins and ends with this moment. The intensity is addicting. He draws my tongue deeper into his mouth and I lose myself all together. I can’t get enough.
My hands are everywhere, touching everything he’ll let me. I slide my fingers beneath the hem of Logan’s white undershirt, needing to feel every inch of him without the barrier of our clothes. As soon as I brush against the soft skin of a scar along Logan’s side, he jerks back.
I dig my elbows into the mattress and prop myself up. “What’s wrong?”
Logan rolls off and sits beside me. I shiver again, this time I am cold. I miss the warmth of his body against mine.
“Sorry.” He clears his throat. “I just…I’m not used to people touching me. Under my shirt.”
“I know about the scars, Logan. You don’t have to hide yourself from me.”
Logan bends his legs and rests his arms on his knees. “I know. I guess I just forget sometimes how much you know.”
35
Danika
I kick my legs off the side of my bed and stretch my arms up, feeling better than I have all week. I look at the clock. 6:15. Logan should be starting his morning run which will give me thirtyish minutes to get ready before he barges into my room. The man has been wonderful, but a little bit much. Just as I push my blanket to the side, there’s a knock at my door and half of a pause later it’s opening.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Logan says, his tone far too chipper for this time of day.
“Who let you in the house?” There’s a hint of unintentional malice in my tone, because I thought I had more time to myself. Not that it matters. Logan’s seen me at my abso
lute worst last week and didn’t bat an eye. Still, I’ve hit a point where I want to look good for him, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. Morning breath, messy hair and his oversized t-shirt is not my idea of looking good.
Logan saunters across the room and lays himself on my bed, hands tucked under his head, ankles crossed. “Your dad. He’s worried about you; said you went through a form of depression last year. He thinks you’re slipping back into it.”
Logan talks about my inner demons like they are no big deal. To me, they are. Dad had no business talking to him about my struggles. I’m frustrated but also curious as to why Logan is so nonchalant about it all. “I’m fine.”
Logan rolls onto his side, facing me. He smells clean, freshly showered, but his hair is dry. Did he use Piper’s dryer? “And that’s exactly what I told him. Actually, I said you’re better than fine.”
“You are way too hyper. What's going on?” I crawl on top of his lap, my skin tingling with need. Sooner or later I have to let Logan touch me. If not, I might just explode, but I don’t want sex to ruin what we’ve got going.
“I’ve skipped my run every morning to be here when you wake up. I think all the energy is compiling into a supernova of an explosion.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head. He’s such a dork. “You should go. By the time you get back I’ll be dressed and ready.”
Logan grips my hips and leans up. His lips are close, brushing against mine. Teasing, but not kissing. “I can think of a better way to use this energy.”
He flips me onto my back and I squeal. Logan’s lips find the sweet spot between my neck on my shoulder. I gasp, grasping the back of his shirt. He sinks his teeth into my skin, biting and sucking and sending a shiver of lust through me.
I arch my back, my hips rocking underneath him. I don’t know if Logan realizes it, but I’m not wearing shorts. There’s nothing but the thin fabric of my cotton panties and his school pants separating us.