Logan

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Logan Page 15

by Paradis, Violette


  “I don’t want to interfere with your studies.”

  “I think I can make time to spend a night with Logan Drake in a suit.

  “Great.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “There’s gonna be a lot of journalists there so this will be a good way to campaign for the Corazon.”

  My smile disappears. For a moment I’m stunned.

  “Oh…right.” I hadn’t thought about the Corazon or that Logan was still campaigning for it. Lightning cracks outside, lighting the inside of the hallway. “Listen, good luck tonight. I need to get going if I want to watch you play.”

  “Alright. I love you.”

  I hesitate for a moment.

  “I love you too. Bye.”

  I shove my phone into the pocket of my windbreaker. My heart is thumping in my chest. Anxiety twists in my belly. Why is he talking about campaigning for the Corazon? I thought I was no longer a prop for that.

  “Fifteen minutes until the big game!” The sportscaster announces from the TV in the other room.

  Crap. If I leave now, I might get to Madeline’s in time.

  As I’m about to leave, I realize I still haven’t picked up my book. As I walk back past the student lounge, Keith’s curious eyes watch me. There’s a big shit-eating grin on his face.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You guys love each other? That’s a big step.”

  “You were listening to us? Maybe you should mind your own business.”

  He shrugs. “It’s just that a guy like him and a nerdy student like you doesn’t really make sense to me, you know?”

  My blood runs cold. “What do you mean by that?”

  “A millionaire hockey player doesn’t usually fall for someone who’s a seven on a good day. Athletes date tens. Even the ugly athletes date tens.”

  “Ugh, you’re disgusting. Thanks for reminding me why I never talk to you.”

  “Hey, we don’t have to talk to have a good time!” He smirks.

  I roll my eyes. “If I’m a seven and I’m out of your league, what does that make you?”

  “Hey, I’m an equal opportunist. When you two break up, you’ll know where to find me.”

  “Your parents’ basement?” I clap back.

  He looks at me with a dumbfounded look as I pull away. Making my way to my room, I get my book and rush off campus back to the light rail station.

  Damp from the rain, I sit on the train and make my way to Madeline’s apartment. As I stare out the window, an unsettling feeling pools in my belly as my thoughts spiral.

  Maybe Keith is right. Maybe Logan is planning to break up with me soon. Maybe our entire relationship really is about the Corazon trophy after all.

  Before I know it, I’m sitting in Madeline’s living room. Jane and I are sitting on the black vinyl couch while Madeline sits on a pink feather lounge chair. Ravioli, her cat, is stretching on a silky red love-seat in the corner.

  We’re sipping chamomile tea from gold-plated teacups while a washed-up singer belts the American anthem on the high definition TV. The smell of lemon biscuits wafts from the kitchen.

  I stay uncharacteristically silent as I watch the camera panning over the team as they stand on the ice, waiting for the game to start.

  The game cuts to a commercial break.

  Jane uses the time to explain to Madeline how to identify a man with a perfect ass.

  “It has to be round and perky if that makes sense.” Jane mimes a squeezing motion with her hands.

  “Trust me.” Madeline’s sharp eyes glimmer behind her bifocals. “I’ve seen my share of perfect behinds.”

  “Ooh!” Jane’s eyes grow wide as she leans in. “Do tell.”

  “You girls!” I say. “Are you sure you’re not teenagers?”

  They both giggle.

  The game comes back on.

  “Should we bet that Logan scores before the end of the period?” Madeline smiles devilishly.

  “Oh, no,” I say. “I can’t jinx my boyfriend like that!”

  Jane laughs into her teacup. “Yeah right. Logan is such an overachiever he’ll probably get a hattrick before the end of the period. At this rate, he’s a lock for the Corazon.”

  Of course he is.

  I clench my jaw and my thoughts spiral as I think about Logan’s words from earlier.

  My phone buzzes. I expect to see Logan’s name, which is completely silly since he’s on the ice right now.

  The call is from an unknown number.

  I excuse myself and take the call in the kitchen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Riley Jamieson?”

  “Yes…”

  “This is Clara Fitzpatrick from the Biomech Research Solutions Lab in New York City. We received your application and we’re very impressed.”

  “Oh wow, thank you!” My heart starts thumping harder in my chest.

  “We’d like to offer you the opportunity to fly out here for an interview and a tour of the facilities. Please keep in mind that we have about thirty other interviewees so this will be a very cutthroat process.”

  “I understand.”

  “If you are interested, please respond before the weekend as we’d like to start flying out interviewees by next week.”

  “Of course. Thank you so much.”

  I end the call with shaky hands.

  “Oh my god, oh my god!”

  I walk out into the living room where both Jane and Madeline are looking up at me.

  “What is it?” Madeline asks in her old creaky voice.

  “The research center in New York City wants to interview me!”

  Jane jumps to her feet. “Oh, Riley, that’s fantastic!”

  I’m biting my lip.

  Her smile disappears. “Wait, why aren’t you more excited?”

  “It’s Logan, isn’t it?” Madeline asks.

  I nod as I drop myself back onto the couch and bring my hands to my face. “Oh, this is so stupid. I wasn’t supposed to get this attached. I wasn’t supposed to fall for him!”

  “Aww,” Jane and Madeline moan in unison.

  “That’s not helping.” I exhale sharply. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Do you love him?” Madeline asks.

  I hesitate as I stare at the screen where the guys are skating across the ice. “I don’t even know what love is.”

  “Nobody does.” Madeline leans on her frail arm. “That’s what makes it so messy. What I know is that you two care for each other. I see it in the way you two giggle when you go up the elevator, and the way Logan talks about you.”

  I smile.

  “Follow your gut,” the old woman continues. “That’s all you can do.” She leans over and squeezes my knee.

  “Sure…my gut, because that’ll be easy. What if my gut doesn’t tell me anything?”

  “It will. It always does.” She winks at me in a way that makes me feel like she just sprinkled fairy dust in the air.

  The timer goes off in the kitchen.

  “The lemon biscuits!” She says happily.

  “Let me help,” Jane says.

  “Hogwash!” Madeline waves her away. “I need the exercise.”

  It takes her a full thirty seconds to push her creaking bones into an upright position. When she finally makes it to her feet, she shuffles slowly to the kitchen. After lazily watching the scene unfold, Ravioli gets up, stretches, yawns, and jumps onto the floor, following jauntily behind her.

  When they make it into the kitchen, I turn to Jane.

  “What should I do?” I ask.

  “What do you want to do?”

  I sigh. “I think I have something really special here with Logan, but at the same time, this is my career we’re talking about. I don’t have any other options!”

  “What does your gut say?” She asks.

  “It’s telling me I want both Logan and the fancy career. But I don’t think life works that way.”

  “Would he be down for a long-distance thing?”


  “I don’t know, I don’t know.” I push my hair back. “Ugh, I’m just so confused about everything.”

  “Riley.” She gives me that look like she can see right through me. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I look up into her eyes. “He referenced the Corazon trophy today.”

  “So?”

  “Our contract was put in place for him to clean up his reputation enough to win that trophy. He invited me to some party this weekend and told me it’d be good for his trophy prospects.”

  I sigh as I bury my face in my hands. My skin is hot.

  “I don’t know why he said that,” I say. My hands muffle my voice. “The contract is over. We ripped it up.”

  “Maybe he’s worried,” Jane says.

  “Why?”

  “Well…have you guys gone out in public together since ending the contract?”

  I think for a moment. “Well, I’ve been to games but we haven’t been to any events together.”

  “Maybe he’s nervous about that.”

  “He really shouldn’t be. I mean, we’re amazing together at home.”

  “And he can still try to win the trophy, right?” Jane asked sincerely. “He has career goals just like you do.”

  I sigh and nod. “You’re right. I shouldn’t read too much into this.”

  “Are you gonna be okay?” Jane squeezes my arm.

  I nod and give her a close-lipped smile. My stomach feels a little bit more settled but the whole moving thing is still on my mind. I’ll have to call the research center in New York City before the end of the week to schedule the interview.

  The TV casts a harsh white light onto the living room as the camera pans over the ice. The referee drops the puck and the Blades gain possession of it almost instantly.

  As I watch number thirteen skate around the ice, I think about what a long-distance relationship would be like. I already spend so much time away from Logan that I can’t imagine moving all the way to the opposite coast and seeing him even less than I do now.

  “And here’s a breakaway for Logan Drake—he shoots he scores! Holy moly! The nerve of this kid!”

  Jane cheers and I manage to snap out of my mental spiral to cheer with her. We watch as Logan celebrates with the other players.

  “Did I miss it? Did I miss it?” Madeline shuffles into the living room faster than I’ve ever seen her move. Her frail blue-veined hands are clutching a plate of lemon biscuits.

  “Logan scored!”

  “Yes!” Madeline does a cute little bounce in celebration. “Lemon biscuits and a goal by Logan Drake. How can life be any better?”

  Yeah, I think to myself as I watch Logan skate past his team’s bench, fist-bumping each teammate along the way. How can life be any better?

  LOGAN

  After another two wins in Sacramento, I come back to an empty apartment in Seattle. With Riley’s intensely long study sessions at the library and my busy playoff schedule, we barely get to see each other.

  When the Blades meet the Skates during game three, I see Riley in the crowd. Her presence gives me enough energy to set up two goals, gaining me two assists and getting the Blades another win.

  She’s so busy at school that I don’t even get to thank her for bringing me good luck before the Blades are back in the arena for game four.

  This time, she’s not in the crowd.

  This throws me off my game as I mishandle two passes and slip up on what could have been a game-tying goal. It’s the first loss for the Blades since the playoffs started, meaning we’ll have to go back to Sacramento.

  Although the Blades still have the lead, the trip means less time with Riley.

  We cross paths the next morning in my apartment before I head to the airport again.

  She’s standing in the kitchen pouring herself a mug of coffee. She’s already dressed, looking like she’s about to head out soon.

  “You weren’t at the game last night,” I say.

  “I’m sorry.” She holds the mug in both hands and sips. “I had a late study group that went until two in the morning. It was brutal.”

  She puts down the mug. “I saw you had a bad night too.”

  “It wasn’t my best.” I walk over to her and pull her into my arms as I push a strand of hair behind her ear. “I missed you.”

  She smiles. “I missed you too.”

  I kiss her neck, smelling the vanilla perfume on her jawline.

  “I can’t stay.” She pushes me away. “I have to get to campus.”

  “So soon?” My stomach sinks. “I won’t be back for another few days.”

  “Win the next one and you’ll be here sooner.” She smirks.

  “You know how to motivate me.” I pull her back close to me and kiss her lips slowly, enjoying each second.

  She kisses me back before slowly pulling away. “I have to go.”

  “Is everything alright?” I hold her dainty hand in mine.

  “Yeah, I’m just really busy. I’m sorry.” She pulls back.

  “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  She smiles. “I’ll see you on TV.”

  Grabbing her bag, she makes her way to the elevator. As she disappears inside and the doors slide shut, I’m left alone in my kitchen.

  There was something strange about her behavior.

  I pick up her mug and take a sip. She didn’t even finish her coffee.

  Walking back to my room, I pass the dining room table which is littered with papers. A letter is sitting on top. It’s from a place in New York City.

  I pick it up and read it.

  “They’re sending her a plane ticket to go in for an interview?” I mumble to myself. “Why didn’t she tell me about this?”

  Is this why she’s acting so strange? Is she taking a job in New York City and she’s afraid to tell me?

  I find myself staring at the letter long enough for the coffee to start going cold. I’m lost in my thoughts as I entertain every possibility.

  Is Riley being distant because she knows she’ll have to leave soon? Is this her way of avoiding becoming attached?

  I look around my apartment: the notebooks and pens on the coffee table, the shoes by the entrance, the hair clips everywhere.

  My gut wrenches.

  I don’t want Riley to leave. I like having her presence around. If she moves, this will be the same lifeless apartment it’s been since the beginning. The thought of it sends chills through me.

  I can’t even imagine a life without Riley.

  The alarm on my watch goes off.

  Shit.

  I spend two minutes throwing clean clothes into a bag before driving myself to the airport.

  I spend the plane ride with my headphones on and the rose pendant in my hands. I want to fight to be with Riley, but how? I can’t force her to stay in Seattle if she gets a job in New York City.

  Coach walks down the airplane aisle, heading to the washroom.

  “Drake!” He speaks forcefully enough for me to hear it through my headphones. I pull them off.

  “Yes, Coach?”

  “You getting your head in the game this time?”

  “Of course, Coach.”

  “Good. I was just talking to Balder and he’s worried about you.”

  I’m staring at Coach but I’m thinking about Riley.

  “Balder?” I ask absently.

  “Good god, kid. Take a nap if you’re tired. We don’t need more mistakes.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Coach continues down the aisle as I stare at the seat-back in front of me.

  Looking down, I inspect the rose pendant necklace in my hand. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head. I know exactly what I need to do.

  ***

  After a win on the road to secure the team’s advancement to the third round, the Blades head back home. Depending on the winner of the other matchup, the Blades might be playing against the Crushers in the semi-finals.

  As the team takes their much-deserved break, everyone looks f
orward to celebrating Coach’s birthday. Meanwhile, I look forward to seeing Riley.

  With all these road trips and games, I’ve barely spent ten minutes with Riley in the past week. Text messages between us have been few and far between making us feel even further apart. I don’t like it.

  When I’m finally home, I shower and change into a crisp dark blue suit. After adjusting my black skinny tie in the mirror, I reach into my bag and pull out a small box. Opening it, I admire the diamond ring, custom made with the same rose design as Riley’s grandmother’s pendant. I had enough time in San Francisco to get it custom made.

  Closing the box, I place it in my pocket. Looking in the mirror, I make sure the bulge doesn’t stick out too much. I’ll have to keep it secret until I find the perfect moment, sometime when we’re alone and the mood is just right. This way she’ll know I’ll follow her wherever she goes, that I’m committed to her.

  The door bursts open and Riley pushes her way in. I instinctively touch my pocket before crossing my arms, trying to look casual.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she says. Her messy bun is completely disheveled and she’s carrying more books than she looks comfortable carrying. She drops them onto the bed before pulling her hair-tie off, shaking out her wild hair. “I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

  She gives me a quick kiss before rushing into the master bathroom and shutting the door. I don’t even have a chance to say hello.

  I know she’s been busy and a part of me wants to tell her to take the night off and study but I can’t wait any longer. I miss her. I miss the way she smells. I miss the way she feels in my arms, especially when she rests her head against my chest and I get to smell the intoxicating scent of her apple shampoo and vanilla perfume. I want those moments for the rest of my life.

  The sound of the shower is followed by the sound of a hairdryer. Ten minutes later, Riley walks out in a white cocktail dress that hugs all her curves just right. Her hair is styled into waves and she’s all glammed up.

  I smile goofily as I stare at her.

  “You look beautiful,” I say.

  She smirks as she walks up to me. “You clean up pretty nicely yourself, Mr. Drake.”

  She places her hands on my chest. The green apple aroma fills the space between us and I instantly feel like jelly in her hands.

 

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