November 7
Giving Up
I really, truly thought Logan was into me, but he’s not. He had the perfect opportunity to kiss me today or say something about his feelings, but instead he called me his “best friend.” Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be Logan’s best friend. He’s awesome. I don’t feel unfaithful to Ana saying he’s my best friend too, because he is. I think it’s okay to have more than one best friend.
It’s just…I had my heart set on more than that, and now it will never happen.
“Disappointed” doesn’t even begin to cover my feelings right now. I’m crushed. I almost feel worse about this than I did about Gio. Logan’s such an amazing guy, and I thought I felt a connection there, but I guess I was wrong. This sucks, especially since I am always going to be around him now.
Guess I’m about to go through that “unrequited love” saga dozens of book and movie characters suffer through. I never realized before now how much that hurts. It’s like a rejection, even though the person you love doesn’t mean to reject you. I know Logan would never do anything on purpose to hurt me, but he is hurting me.
I wish I could turn these feelings off. That would make things so much easier. I’m just going to have to get over this one day at a time.
Ttyl,
Mads
Because of BlizzCon, Dalton agreed to move our band practice to Sunday, so the six of us gather once again in our rehearsal studio after lunch.
Dalton seems distant and broody today. His mic is not cooperating, so he’s cursing under his breath as he fiddles with it, trying to get the height adjusted properly. Max and I calmly prepare our instruments, tuning up and comparing with each other to make sure we’ve got the right blend. Logan taps out a quiet beat behind us while Dad and Cass murmur on the other side of the room.
Just hearing Logan’s sound behind me, slow and melancholy like the beat of my heart, brings a clench of pain in my chest. I swallow back the urge to cry. It’s stupid to cry over a guy who was never yours to begin with. I just wish I understood why he doesn’t like me back.
Maybe I went too far with my “ugly” plan this weekend…
Dalton finally gets his mic adjusted and calibrated, and we’re able to start. We decide to work on our cover of “Riot” by Three Days Grace. That was the first cover we started with, since Dalton and I had already heard each other’s version of it. I love the lead guitar part on this song. It lets me shed off all my angst and purge some of the pain I’m feeling.
Once we get into the first chorus, I’ve forgotten about everything that was bothering me. I dive into the song, easily sliding my fingers up and down the neck and ripping it out. This song is one I could practically play in my sleep. The lyrics resonate with me, too. Sometimes I do feel like starting a riot, especially in my uptight school full of pricks who don’t understand me.
We finish all our covers and move on to our original songs. I show them some of the new lyrics and riffs I’ve been working on, and all of them are impressed. Logan beams at me from behind his drum set like he can’t believe he’s in my band. He was my first fan, and he’s still my most dedicated supporter second to Dad.
After rehearsal, I pack up my guitar and Dalton talks to me, seemingly relaxed after growling out some of his emotions.
“Hey, do you want to hang out with us after this? Logan and I are going back to my apartment for drinks. He’s going to make dinner.”
I grin back at Logan. “If Logan’s making dinner, I’m definitely in.” I turn my attention to Max. “You’re not coming?”
Max shakes his head. “My mom needs me tonight at the restaurant. You crazies enjoy yourselves.”
He scoops his guitar case up onto his body, and the rest of us say goodbye as he heads for the door. Dalton, Logan, and I make quick work of packing everything else away and let Dad and Cass know where I’m going. I follow Dalton and Logan out, listening to Dalton’s recap of his latest conquest as we head for the parking lot.
“Man, I don’t know what she was on, but she was insane. She was just touching me everywhere and the next thing I knew, she was in my lap. I took her home and—”
His graphic account of their one-night stand follows. As much as I don’t want to look like a prude, I can’t help letting my jaw drop. I knew sex could get crazy, but some of what Dalton is describing is pretty depraved. He’s obviously into some kinky stuff.
“Dude, dude, you’re freaking Mads out. Stop it.” Logan glances back in my direction, not missing my horrified expression. “You okay?”
“Yeah…I just didn’t know I was friends with such a…”
“Manwhore?” Logan finishes with a smirk.
“What, are you judging me?” Dalton’s fiery hazel eyes narrow.
“No, no…I mean, I’m just shocked, I…sorry.” My cheeks heat with embarrassment.
A note of mischief softens Dalton’s features. His lips curl up in a wicked smirk. “It’s okay, Miss Vir-twin. I know the truth about you thanks to my ex-best friend.” Dalton throws back his head and laughs. “Little does everyone know that ‘wild girl’ reputation of yours is a steaming crock of BS. I’d be willing to bet you’ve never even seen a guy fully nude.”
Heat burns up my neck. I drop my gaze to my Converse-clad feet and clear my throat. “You’d be correct.”
The tone of Logan’s voice is lifted with a smile. “You’re a virgin, sweets?”
My face gets so hot I have to stop walking and cover it with my hands. “Dammit, Dalton…”
“Look, she’s turning beet red.” Dalton ridicules me without mercy, laughing harder than I’ve ever heard him laugh before.
As I walk and keep my gaze trained on my feet, an arm slides around me from behind. I glance to my other side and see Logan’s face near mine.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he whispers. “I think it’s kinda hot.”
I drop my hands from my face. “Really?”
“Yeah. Whoever gets to be your first is a lucky guy.” He winks at me.
I look into his dancing green eyes and manage a sad smile.
It could have been you…
An hour later, I’m sitting in Dalton and Devon’s loft with the entire Jacobs-Caldwell family, including their uncle Rob and his latest piece of arm candy. It’s not hard to determine by looking at him and his date that he hired her to be here for certain benefits. Rob looks just about as raggedy as everything else in their living space. The furniture looks like it was nice once upon a time, but years of wear and tear and liquor have taken their toll. I can even see some burn spots on the couch next to me from where people put out their cigars. Nana would be horrified if she knew where I was right now. This is the kind of neighborhood and surroundings I was always warned against by my conservative grandmother. I don’t even have to guess what the paraphernalia on the end table beside the couch is, because Rob and his girl load up a bong with weed and start smoking it without a fanfare. I’ve never even seen a bong up close, that’s how sheltered I am. Sometimes, I’d see people in the corners of clubs and in the VIP section with things like this, but to Raven’s credit, she never wanted to do drugs when we were out. She probably avoids them like the plague because of Jess.
Devon notices me practically sweating and scoots closer to me on the couch. “Don’t worry, Mads. Rob and what’s-her-face will be gone soon. He always takes them out to his car.”
I lean close to whisper in her ear. “Where does he get the money for…” I nod toward the woman.
Shrugging, Devon turns back to watch the TV without a word. I look over at Dalton and find his gaze trained on his uncle instead of the phone in his lap. You can practically see the dragon flames shooting out of his eyes. My heart hurts for him. He works so hard, and where does all his money go? To his asshole of an uncle, who wastes it all on himself. I can’t help but wonder why Dalton doesn’t just turn him in for his illegal actions. Dalton’s even older than I am.
The smell of Logan’s wonderful cooking o
verpowers the smell of pot in the living area and draws me into the small partitioned-off kitchen on the far side of the loft. Days-old dishes are in the sink, but Logan’s making quick work of them while he’s cooking simultaneously. I smile at the sight of him busily saving the day while I make my way to the sink to help him out. He is so kind, helpful, and amazing. If only he liked me…
“Can I help?”
Logan turns to me with a smile and hands me the dish he’s working on. “Thanks, sweets. I was falling behind.”
I scrape God knows what off of dishes while Logan works on his stir-fry at the oven. I could never get tired of watching him cook. It’s almost like my own private cooking show. Logan moves with such finesse and confidence. Wishing I could be like that, I turn to watch my own hands in the sink, hating how even a small chore like scrubbing dishes brings out my clumsiness. I can barely even hold on to these beer glasses with the suds all over them. They keep slipping out of my fingers. Even though my hands are strong, my hand-eye coordination has never been that great. It’s why I suck at sports. Physical activity of any sort, unless it’s something I did on the farm, just isn’t my forte.
Somehow, I manage to load the dishwasher without incident and get it started washing. There are just enough dishes in the cupboard for all of us, so I get them all out and select appropriate silverware for everyone. Then I go around the living space to get everyone’s drink orders and fill everyone’s cups with what they want. By the time I’m done, Logan’s finished the stir-fry and we serve it all up at the same time.
When we’re back at the couch sitting in front of the TV, Logan glances at me with a warm smile. “We’re a good team, aren’t we?”
I grin. “Hell yeah, we are.” We exchange a fist bump and go back to chowing down on Logan’s perfectly seasoned, flavorful meal.
Later on in the evening, Dalton and Logan are chugging their beers and watching Adventure Time while I sit by and stare at the weed on the table. Devon has already gone to bed, and I should be leaving, but I am so damn curious about this green plant everyone’s always obsessing about. Is it really as great as they say it is? I kinda want to smoke some, but Dalton and Logan are goofing it up in the corner pretending they’re Finn and Jake and not paying any attention to me. I’m going to need help if I’m gonna try this. I don’t have the first clue how to roll a joint or anything like that.
“Hey Dalton, if Mads was in Adventure Time, who would she be?”
“Princess Bubblegum, ‘cause she’s such a prude,” Dalton teases.
“Nah, I think she would be Flame Princess,” Logan argues.
“Why, ‘cause you think she’s hot?” Dalton jabs him and Logan flips him off.
I roll my eyes at both of them. “Idiots. Of course I’d be Marceline.”
“Oh yeah, Marceline!” Both of them gush over my similarities to Marceline, including my dark hair and music skills, until I finally cut them off.
“Hey, could one of you douchebags roll me a joint?”
Both their heads immediately snap in my direction. Then they burst into rolling laughter at the same moment.
“What?” Dalton chokes out through tearful hollers.
“I asked for a joint. What’s the big deal?”
“Nothing, Mads. You just don’t seem like the kind of person who would typically sit back and light one up on a Sunday night,” Logan explains, wiping tears off his stupid gorgeous face. I love to see him smiling, laughing, and happy again after what happened with Claire, but not at my expense. He’s going to have a broken nose soon if he keeps this shit up.
“I’m not. That’s why I need help learning how to roll one,” I admit with a slight burn of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
Dalton comes over to kneel beside the chair I’m sitting in and sprinkles crushed weed into a piece of brown paper. He spreads it out evenly and winds it up inside the paper it in a slow and careful manner. Then he licks the side and presses it together to make a firm roll.
“This, my friend, is called a blunt. We use cigar paper.” Dalton grins, wiggles it between his fingers in my face, and then takes a lighter from the table to ignite it. “I take it you don’t hang out with my kind of people too much.”
“Up until this summer, I didn’t hang out with any kind of people too much,” I remind him pointedly.
Dalton wrinkles his lips into a comical smirk. “Touché.” He hands me the lit blunt and moves back to sit with Logan again. “Take it slow, okay? I know CPR, but I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t have to use it.”
“Right.” I giggle, eyeing the brown, smoking roll I’m about to stick in my mouth dubiously. Am I sure I want to do this? Dad will probably kill me, but…
Oh, hell. I just turned eighteen. Time to go for it.
I bring it up to my mouth and think I’m sucking in slowly, but the unfamiliar thickness hits my throat and I gag. Coughing up a lung, I beat my chest, trying to expel the foreign substance from my body. Dalton and Logan snicker from across the room at me.
“Just give yourself some time to get used to it,” Logan says as he gets up from his seat to come over by the end table. “I could go for a blunt myself.”
Ten minutes later, we’re all smoking up the living room with blunts. Dalton and Logan are already getting high, but I’m still trying to figure out how to breathe this stuff in without choking. Maybe I’m not meant to smoke pot. Probably a good thing, since between Dad and Jess, I’m almost guaranteed to have an addictive personality. Still, I started this and I really want to finish it while I’m here. It’s not fair that everyone else in the world did this before me and I’m just now learning how to do everything.
“Mads, come over here,” Logan invites me with a huge, adorable grin on his face. “I’ll help.”
I move over to sit on the couch beside him. His arms are loose and his normally rigid demeanor is relaxed and chill. Logan takes his cigar out and shows me exactly how I should hold it and put it in my mouth.
“See, just hold it in there like a popsicle.” He demonstrates with no hands and holds them over his head as if he’s on a roller coaster.
I giggle at him and attempt to hold it in my mouth the way he does. The only problem is all I can concentrate on right in this moment is how his perfect lips look wrapped around that cigar. When he pulls it out of his mouth, the smoke moving over them is almost too much for me. My urge to kiss him is getting out of control. I hope my restraint doesn’t evaporate completely when I finally figure out how to smoke this blunt.
Five minutes later, I finally take my first full smoke without coughing. Dalton and Logan clap for me as the edges of the room start to cloud. My anxiety about everything begins to fade. I relax into the fog around me and smile, loving my new friends and the future we have together.
November 8
A Confession
I tried my first blunt tonight. At first it didn’t go well, but then Logan helped me get used to it. I feel extremely guilty about it now that my high is fading at one in the morning. I promised Dad no drugs, booze, or “studly boys” at the beginning of all this, and I’ve officially gone against all my promises now. Being the teenage daughter of a rock star, I’m sure he wasn’t expecting any different, but still…I feel like I betrayed him somehow.
I don’t know if I’m going to keep smoking weed, but I have to admit, it did help me chill out for a while. The only problem is I’m scared I might get addicted to it. I know some people say you can’t get addicted to it, but with both my parents being drug addicts in the past, I’m just a little worried I might be ten times as likely as everyone else to develop an addiction to something. After all, Raven inherited snobbery and cruel victimization of others from Jess’s side. Couldn’t I inherit drug addiction?
This nature vs. nurture thing is perplexing me lately. What all do we get from our parents? And how much of it is genetics vs. what we’ve been taught? Life gets confusing when you hit seventeen and eighteen-years-old. Sometimes I don’t like it. I wish I could go back
to ten when a scraped knee was the biggest of my worries.
Look at me, waxing all philosophical in the middle of the night after smoking a blunt…
Maybe drugs really are “of the devil.” Nana would whip my tail if I did this at home. I’m really glad she isn’t here right now.
Ttyl,
Mads
At school the next day, I’m cranky and exhausted and barely manage to muddle through the hallway without killing anyone. Chandler and Devon walk by my sides to keep people from bothering me. They’ve basically become the gateway to Madison Daley. If they say you can talk to me, you can talk to me, but God forbid you touch me or look me in the eye. It’s not that I’m turning into Raven or anything; it’s just that I don’t trust anyone at this school anymore except a select few people. Anyone could be one of Raven’s allies. I met her girls, but for all I know, she has underground servants spying on my every move.
I make it to my locker and let my eyes linger on Gio for only a second before turning away from him with a sigh. Why am I still hurting over a fake relationship? I guess because it was only fake to him. My love for him was real, and he ripped out my heart and stomped all over it. I’m trying to accept his lack of sincerity, but the relationship felt so real…it’s messing with my head.
Dalton passes by me on the way to his locker and takes in my bloodshot eyes. “Fun night, huh?” He grins knowingly.
I flip him off in front of everyone in the hallway. “Go to hell. I hate you for doing this to me.”
He guffaws, crossing the hall to meet me. “You’ll get used to it, Princess.”
D.O.R.K. Series Box Set Page 43