Match Me If You Can

by Tiana Smith

  He pulled out his camera to take a few more shots, and I was left scrambling for something to say. Should I go with him? It would put some distance between me and Robyn’s email. That was a plus. But it would also put me in closer proximity to Logan, and that was definitely not a plus.

  “But Vince just asked me out. I can’t go do something … romantic … with you.” Maybe I could find Elena, wherever she had disappeared to. I could hide out with her until Robyn’s anger had blown over.

  “He asked you to homecoming, Mia. That doesn’t mean you’re dating,” Logan said. “I can’t have you think some jock is the perfect example of romantic-ness.”

  “That’s not a word,” I said.

  “You see, if you want to woo someone, you have to know the best way to go about it.”

  “‘Woo someone’? What is this, the fifteen hundreds?” I asked. I almost looked to Robyn for affirmation but remembered she was checking her email, and I definitely didn’t want to make eye contact with her right now.

  “You have to know if someone likes public displays or if they’d rather do something more private.”

  I gulped. This conversation had gotten away from me.

  “We’re not going to be alone, are we?” Where was Elena? If I could find her in the crowd, I could make up an excuse to leave this conversation.

  “It’s a surprise,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

  He gazed into my eyes, and I couldn’t remember what I was arguing about.

  I looked to Robyn for backup, but she was still scrolling through her email, a scowl overtaking her face.

  “Mia, this email—”

  “Gotta go!” I said, pushing Logan out of the row.

  He smiled and slung his camera over one arm.

  “Great. Bye, Robyn.”

  I was out of options. Apparently I was going to be wooed whether I liked it or not.

  six

  Cotton candy was probably the best food ever invented. Don’t get me wrong, chocolate came pretty close, but there was just something about eating pure sugar that made me happy.

  I stuck my tongue out for Logan’s inspection.

  “Is it blue yet?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he laughed and playfully nudged me away.

  “Hey,” I said, “If you’re going to try to woo me, you’ll need to see every side of me, even the gross stuff.” Talking out loud about his “flirting” didn’t feel weird, because I was pretty sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He was just proving a point. I blissfully shoved another piece of cotton candy into my mouth and let it melt. Already, Robyn had called me three times and texted more than I could count. She obviously knew, but I couldn’t deal with it now. Every time I thought about her reaction, my heart squeezed and it became hard to breathe. It was better to put that argument off.

  Logan ate his cotton candy with much more care, taking small pieces and placing them gently on his tongue.

  “See, this just proves my point,” he said. “You don’t seem scared, and you’re not nervous. I’d even go so far as to call you happy.”

  “How can anyone not be happy at the Pier?” I asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s cheating,” I said. “It’s like going to Disneyland and asking someone to compare it to a dungeon.” The Pier was the closest thing we had to big-town entertainment. It was technically in the next city over, a half-hour drive toward the coast, but since Athens didn’t have any hot spots, we pretended it was ours.

  “Ouch. Poor Vince. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you compared his poetry cheer thing to being a prisoner.”

  “It’s not that,” I huffed. “It’s just … Well, it’s not fair that you want me to compare one poem to an entire night of lights, glitter, and cotton candy.”

  “Hey.” He put himself directly in front of me. “If Vince had any sense, he could have seen that you’re not the type for public displays and he could have taken you to the Pier instead. Don’t blame me if he was only thinking of himself.”

  “How is writing me a poem thinking only of himself?” I honestly wanted to know. Logan was acting so serious about all this, his brows furrowed and his mouth set. It was kind of cute but mostly strange. He wasn’t the type to be serious about anything, so why was this so important to him? Sure, Logan had teased me before, but I’d always thought that was simply part of his personality. Kind of like how he often waltzed into class late or cared more about his photography than he did his homework.

  “Oh, come on, Mia,” he said. “Vince thrives on attention. If you guys dated, you’d always have a spotlight on you. It wouldn’t be relaxed. It wouldn’t be easy. It wouldn’t be like this.”

  Then he reached out and took hold of my hand.

  He. Was. Holding. My. Hand. How could such a small thing seem big enough to fill every space of me? My fingertips burned with the contact, and Logan started stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. His hand enveloped mine completely, making mine seem small in comparison, but when I looked down, it was hard to see where his fingers ended and mine began.

  I should have been upset.

  I wasn’t.

  I tried to hide my smile by biting off another piece of cotton candy, but I was pretty sure Logan saw, because his mouth curved up, too. If I was being honest with myself, I actually liked … this. All of it. My brain couldn’t wrap around it, because it didn’t make any logical sense.

  “So what’s next on your agenda, Mr. Smooth?” I asked. I’d think more about all this later, when I had a chance to analyze it. Right now, all I knew was that it took my mind off the twenty or so text messages I’d gotten from Robyn in the last hour.

  He laughed, like I’d hoped he would. The sound of it made my stomach flutter.

  “The Ferris wheel,” he said, and my stomach flopped for an entirely different reason.

  Through the lights of the Ferris wheel, I could see various couples lit up in alternating flashes of red, then yellow, then blue. About 90 percent of them were glued together in the type of embrace that would normally never be allowed in public. There were different rules for public displays of affection when you were off the ground, I guessed.

  The Ferris wheel rotated slowly, but still. Kissing was moving just a bit too fast for my taste. Plus, I had Vince to consider. Vince, who had finally asked me out. I’d waited so long for that to happen that it was like a dream come true.

  At that moment, my phone dinged.

  I pulled it from my pocket, releasing Logan’s hand to do so. I shouldn’t have gotten sucked in by his charm. Who was I kidding? Logan and I would never work.

  “It’s from Elena,” I said, scanning the message. “I texted her for the score from the game. Man, she’s really chewing me out for leaving early.”

  “I thought Robyn was going to send you the score?”

  Yeah, I’d asked Elena. Because I wasn’t sure Robyn would do me any favors after she found out what I’d done, and I wasn’t about to open her messages.

  “Oh, sometimes she forgets, so I wanted to be thorough,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t push the issue. “But I have the score now.”

  Logan started leading me to the main entrance of the Pier.

  “No Ferris wheel?” I asked, the relief evident in my voice.

  “Oh no, we’ll come back for that,” he said, and my nerves kicked in again. “We should submit your article now, since I know you’ll kill me if you miss the deadline.”

  In spite of myself, I smiled a little. Logan really did know me well.

  Back at his car, I took as long as possible updating my article, but there were only so many times someone could spell-check a six-hundred-word piece. Eventually I clicked SEND and tried to ignore the butterflies throwing a party in my stomach. Then I told Logan I was ready, which was such a lie.

  Logan locked his car and once again took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. Was it supposed to feel this comfortable? I could pull away again, but, really, it wasn’t like holding h
ands meant much.

  The line for the Ferris wheel was short. All too soon, a guy was pulling down the bar and trapping me in the gondola with Logan.

  I was hyperaware of how close Logan and I sat, the bar keeping me from putting more distance between us. A crazy, irrational part of me was tempted to see what kissing Logan might be like. Just to see. But I knew curiosity killed the cat, and I didn’t need it killing my chances with Vince. Vince with his broad shoulders and charming smile.

  The worker checked the latch and stepped back.

  “You two have a good time,” he said, a sly grin on his face.

  At my side, Logan leaned slightly forward, and I twisted in my seat to see his face, putting a little more distance between us.

  “Why are you so anxious all of a sudden?” he asked.

  “As if you don’t know,” I said. “As if you weren’t planning this from the beginning.”

  Planning it from the beginning. I was suddenly hit with the thought that this had all been just another way to taunt me. I felt sick, and it wasn’t from the motion of the Ferris wheel. I should have known.

  “And just what do you think I’m planning?”

  “Don’t make me say it,” I said, embarrassment making my hands flutter on the bar.

  He raised his eyebrows but otherwise remained silent.

  “Fine.” I sighed. “It’s common knowledge that the Ferris wheel is the place for … you know. Kissing.”

  “And you’re worried I’m going to try to kiss you?”

  “Aren’t you?” There was no use trying to contain my blush. My entire face could have substituted as a space heater.

  “Relax, Mia,” he said. “I’m not going to kiss you.”

  That statement didn’t make me feel better. Because if Logan wasn’t wanting to kiss me, maybe I truly had read him wrong. Maybe he really was taunting me, and I’d been the naïve little girl who’d fallen for it.

  Vince wasn’t the type to play games like that.

  “What?” I asked, carefully controlling my voice.

  “I said,” he repeated slowly, “I’m not going to kiss you.”

  “I— But—” I couldn’t believe it. Stupid Mia.

  Logan tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, leaving my skin warm where his fingers touched.

  “Mia,” he said. “A kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel? Way too cliché. Besides, it takes two to kiss, you know.”

  Half my brain was busy analyzing whether his statement meant he wanted to kiss me, and the other half was trying to picture Vince’s face. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so flustered by every word coming out of Logan’s mouth.

  “You know,” he said, “it’s okay if you like me.”

  “Huh?” I asked. It was the best I could come up with, since I didn’t seem to be forming coherent thoughts at the moment. He was leaning in close, and the only thing I could latch onto was that he smelled really, really good.

  “I can tell you’re fighting it,” he said. “I’m just not sure why.”

  Looking deep in his eyes, I couldn’t quite understand it myself.

  “Ummm,” I said. I turned away. “Wow, would you look at that view?”

  We were at the top of the Ferris wheel, the Pier stretched out beneath us. The booths lit up the night sky, and everyone seemed a world away. Endless open air stretched out in front of us as we started our descent, and I felt like Logan and I were completely alone.

  He took my hint and let the subject drop, but that didn’t mean I stopped thinking about it. How could I not think about it?

  “Okay,” I said, turning to Logan. “You seem to know everything about me, so it’s only fair that I know more about you.”

  One corner of his mouth tugged up in a smile. “What do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Just tell me something. Something personal.” Something that would prove me right. Something I could bring to Robyn as proof that we were totally incompatible.

  He thought for a minute before answering.

  “I have a sister who’s a sophomore,” he said. “She and I are pretty close. She set me up with one of her friends for homecoming last year because I didn’t have the guts to ask out the girl I really liked.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You know, I find that pretty hard to believe.”

  “Yes, well.” He looked me directly in the eye. His concentrated gaze warmed my stomach and sent tingles through my skin. “This year I decided I should probably do something about it.”

  I looked down at my lap and tried to breathe evenly. It was hard to do.

  Logan cleared his throat. “Let’s see,” he said. “What else should you know about me? I hate ducks, I’m not a morning person, and my favorite food is apple pie.”

  “You hate ducks?” I asked.

  “They poop everywhere, they’re obnoxiously loud, and they poop everywhere. Oh, and did I mention that they poop everywhere?”

  “Yes.” I laughed. “It might have come up.”

  “Oh, and I also think websites that automatically play ads are crazy annoying.”

  “Can’t say I disagree with you there,” I said. None of this made me dislike him, which was kind of the point of this whole exercise. The thought made me antsy. We were at the top of the Ferris wheel again, our gondola softly swaying in the open air.

  “Tell me something else,” I said. “Who’s your favorite reporter?”

  “I don’t really follow the news,” he answered. He said it simply, like he’d been commenting on the weather or saying Hollywood produced too many remakes.

  I stared at him in shock. How could someone not follow the news?

  This was it. The reason we could never be together. I couldn’t be with such a monster.

  But Logan only laughed. “What? I have other interests.”

  “Like photography.”

  Logan looked out over the Pier and gestured with his hand.

  “I’ve never been good at school. Writing, reading, stuff like that. I’m more of a visual person. So capturing things in my lens—photography—comes easily to me. And I can capture moments like this,” he said, waving toward the water. “That’s actually what I was doing when I got detention. The lighting on the fall leaves was perfect, and I didn’t want to miss it. Sometimes my photography makes me lose track of time.” He shrugged. “Photography helps me remember special things. After my dad died, I wished I’d had more memories of us together.” Logan’s voice got softer when he said, “Every day, I feel like I remember him less.” He shifted in his seat. “Photography is a way for me to freeze time, and when I look back, I can remember the good times.” He paused. “Cheesy, huh?”

  “Not cheesy,” I said. I still couldn’t believe he didn’t pay attention to the news, but the way he described photography sounded pretty amazing, actually. “When did your dad die?”

  “A year and a half ago. Cancer,” Logan said, his voice soft.

  “I’m so sorry.” I didn’t always get along with my parents, but I couldn’t imagine a life without either one of them in it.

  “It’s … well, it’s not okay. But I guess it taught me I need to experience life more, you know? Go for it. Life is too short.”

  “I guess I can understand that,” I said. “It’s part of why I want to be a journalist so bad.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded, the night air caressing my cheeks. “Journalists get to see the world. You see, I have this plan. I’m going to be the first person in my family to go to college. Then I’m going to make the student paper and build up my résumé so I can get a job at the New York Times.”

  “That’s amazing,” Logan said. He was looking at me that way again—the way that made me think things I shouldn’t.

  And he kept doing it all night. At the photo booth, getting henna tattoos, turning in our tickets for a fluffy stuffed unicorn—it didn’t matter what we were doing, Logan still managed to keep me guessing.

  Later, when he drove me home, I felt surprisin
gly happy.

  “Thanks,” I said when he pulled into my driveway. “Tonight was great.” I was surprised by how much I meant it. “You’ve proven your point about romatic-ness or whatever.”

  He smiled. “Night,” he said. Then he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, causing me to fumble with the door handle.

  I made my way to the door and waved as he drove off. When I got inside, my mom was reading a book on the couch. It must have been a good one, because she didn’t even glance up as I closed the door. If she had, I knew she would have asked me about the strange expression on my face.

  “Good timing. Robyn just got here,” my mom said, turning the page of her book. “She’s waiting in your room.”

  I knew this night had been too good to be true.

  seven

  I didn’t open my bedroom door right away. Instead I hovered outside and debated my options, like an actor rehearsing her lines in the wings.

  There was still a one-percent chance she hadn’t figured out what I’d done, right? Maybe I should lead with that. I pulled out my phone and scanned her texts. Nope, she definitely knew. And she was definitely furious.

  As soon as I stepped inside my room, Robyn hit me with her worst: the cool, calm anger of someone who’d have no problem sneaking pink hair dye into your shampoo.

  “Well, hello, ‘best friend’ who doesn’t respond to my texts.” She was lying on my bed, picking at her nails. She didn’t look at me.

  I shut the door behind me and guiltily came to sit by her side, but she didn’t move her legs to make room. I sat awkwardly on the end, putting as much distance between us as I could.

  “Care to explain yourself? Like why you’ve been blowing me off all night? How about you start there? No, wait, let’s start with how Vince magically got an email from me saying that you were his perfect match.” Robyn sat up and crossed her arms while she waited for me to reply.

  I could claim amnesia. Or pretend like she’d been hacked.

  But we both knew the truth—that I was dead meat.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, leaning against the wall and burying my face in my hands. “I panicked. Everyone was making fun of me after the announcements, and I didn’t know how to deal.”