by Stacey Nash
“Liar. What is it? Those antsy-pantsy rumours or something else? I heard you were pretty pissed about the game on Saturday …”
I kept my eyes on the books.
“Is it Logan?”
“He wasn’t in class on Monday.” In fact, I hadn’t heard from him since I’d walked away on Saturday afternoon. I didn’t really have a right to care about that, nor should I want to, but that didn’t stop it from sitting in my chest all ball-like.
“It is.” Her voice practically bounced.
“It is not. It’s just …” I sighed. “Everything, okay? Let it go.”
“I will not let it go.” She jumped down off the desk, landing on her toes, and tugged my keys off their plastic hanger by the door, then tossed them at me. “You need to get out of this shoe box.”
“I have things to do, Molly.” I flourished my hand over the bed.
“Pfft. Nothing that can’t wait a few hours while we have some girl time.”
“Doing what?”
“Just hanging.” She tugged me up off the bed, and there was no point in resisting. Once Molly had her mind set on something there was no stopping her. Much like the Mickey Mouse sweater she was wearing. She’d decided it was cute, and no amount of persuasion could convince her otherwise. Apparently Savvy had spent close on an hour trying.
I grabbed my purse and phone, then slunk through the door that Molly held open whilst tapping her toes against the daggy nineties-style, industrial-grade carpet. She was right; I was hiding. But it wasn’t because I cared what they were saying; it was because everything was spiralling out of control and I didn’t know how to get it back on track.
The fresh scent of rain hit me as we descended the stairs. A soft drizzle fell from the sky, but we kept to the covered walkways as we wandered through the courtyard. A shrill voice yelled, “Livia! Molly!” I glanced up and Savannah was at her window, waving like crazy. “Wait a sec.”
“Argh. How many times do I have to tell her I hate my name shortened?”
Molly chuckled and we exchanged a glance, an unspoken agreement to wait and see what Savvy wanted. The rain picked up in intensity, forcing us back against the brick wall to stay dry. Thankfully, the wait wasn’t long. Savvy burst out of the door that led to block L, her blonde hair a mess of weird bendy things. “Are you guys heading to town?”
“Yep,” Molly answered. “You need something to cut that crap out of your hair?”
Savvy’s eyes bulged and Molly snuck a glance at me then laughed. Poor Savannah looked as if she was about to launch into a tirade of exactly where Molly could shove her suggestion.
“Do you want to come with us?”
“No, I’m trialling my hair for Central Night. Are you guys going?”
Molly rolled her eyes. “Sheesh. Keen much? It’s not until next week.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. Honestly hanging out at the Central Hotel with the rest of Oxley College didn’t sound as fun as I would have found it a year ago.
Savvy held her hand out, catching drops of water on her fingers. “I can ask Dane to invite Logan.”
“If I wanted to go and I wanted Logan to go, I’d invite him myself. But I don’t, on either account. And right now, we need to get going or we’ll miss the bus.”
Savannah raised a brow. “Sure thing. See you later.”
We made a mad dash to the shelter. I tried to avoid the puddles as best I could and hand over my head, I hoped it kept at least some of the light rain off. The bus pulled up just as we crossed the road. We climbed on and took a seat up the back. Once again, I found myself staring at my reflection in the window, and kicking myself for not bothering to tidy up before stepping out of my room. I had no makeup on and my hair was pulled up in a messy bun on top of my head that had turned to frizzy in the damp air. I’d have to make sure I smartened up my act before heading home to Sydney or Mum would ship me off for elocution lessons, or something equally ridiculous. It wouldn’t be the first time, either.
My phone buzzed halfway to town and I slid it out of my bag. The number was unknown. Before I could answer, it stopped.
“Lover boy?” Molly asked.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
Molly chuckled. “Keep denying it, Olivia.”
The phone vibrated with a chime, telling me the caller had left a message. I held the device up to my ear. “It’s Amrita from Student Services …” The message stopped abruptly. Weird.
“It was the Student Services lady.” My fingers slid over the screen to call her back. Of course, my call went straight to her voicemail. I’d been hanging out to hear from her for a week, and another few minutes seemed an impossible wait. I tapped the phone against my knee. “I couldn’t get through though.”
My foot jigged as I waited to try and call her again. What if she couldn’t help … crap, what if she could? With voting opening in less than a week, I’d need to pull together a campaign mighty quick. We’d need flyers and notices around campus. I’d have to hang out at The Bar and the library, rallying voters. Gee, I’d lost valuable time, but maybe it could be salvaged. I ran my finger over the foggy glass.
The bus whined as it pulled into our stop.
“She’ll call back,” Molly said.
When we’d disembarked, Molly dragged me toward the shopping centre. The dash to the front door was enough to kick mud up my legs. “Retail therapy. You’re buying, though, I’m broke.”
I laughed. “And you think I’m not?”
“I know you’re not.” She winked. “What do you want to look at?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Truth was I was never broke; not with the credit card linked to my mother’s. “Maybe we can buy you an outfit for Central Night.”
Molly’s elbow ploughed into my ribs. What the— “And that, right there, is where we’re starting.” She cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled, “Oh, lover boy,” dragging out the last word.
The ground needed to open up and swallow me already. Why it hadn’t when I’d begged it to at least a dozen times recently was proof I had control over nothing. Or I had unrealistic expectations. Fighting the embarrassment of my insane friend, rain ruined hair, and muddy legs, I followed the line of her gaze to Logan. His grey t-shirt moved against his chest with his swinging arms as he strolled toward us. It was cold today with the rainy weather. He mustn’t be able to feel it.
A younger guy walked alongside him, matching Logan’s stride. He spun his baseball cap around backwards, and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as his gaze skimmed over Molly and spent entirely too long on me.
“Hey,” Logan said, drawing my attention away from his friend.
“Hi,” I answered, a little unsure how to act. The way we’d last parted wasn’t exactly friendly. This was awkward as hell. My arms instinctively curled around my middle and I stepped back.
The other guy turned to Logan. “Dude. Are you going to introduce us?”
Logan’s gaze flicked across mine and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to. Honestly, I wouldn’t blame him. Lately, I was embarrassed to be me.
“Liv, this is Jordan. Jordan …” Logan waved his hand toward me. “Liv.”
“Liv? As in, Olivia. Like the Olivia?”
Logan shot the other guy a pointed look.
“The Olivia.” Molly emphasised the first word.
Logan said, “One and the same.”
A low whistle came from Logan’s friend as he grinned at Molly, as if the two of them shared a secret. “What are you guys up to?”
“Nothing,” Molly answered. “Absolutely nothing, why don’t we grab a coffee? Wait. He’s allowed to call you Liv?”
“Olivia hates coffee,” Logan said, his gaze still locked with mine.
“Mate …” Jordan slapped Logan’s back. “Just do it already.”
“Quit it.” Logan shot his friend a glare. “Not going to happen today.”
“Well, Liv and I are headed over …” Molly looked around
“… there. To Crazy Beans to not have coffee. Feel free to join us.”
Then she started walking away. Gosh, girl, way to put everyone on the spot. She’d probably made Logan feel like he had to hang out with us so he didn’t look rude. “It’s okay; you guys don’t have to join us. Molly’s just being obnoxious.”
“Get out!” Jordan grinned. “We’re joining you.”
Logan’s smile started small. “If that’s what Liv wants.”
I shrugged. What could it hurt? If he wanted to be there, then I guess I wanted him there. We were friends after all, and those were a rare commodity of late.
Molly had already claimed a booth when we arrived. Jordan slid in beside her, leaving the opposite side free. Yeah, I was totally on to the pair of them and their little plan. Logan gestured for me to go first, so I slid across the vinyl and he slipped in beside me. There wasn’t a lot of room, so I squished my purse between myself and the wall. Logan’s thick thighs seemed to take up most of the seat, but I was careful to keep a little space between us.
“It’s Central Night next Thursday. You going, Logan?” Molly cut straight to the point.
“Ah …” He glanced toward his friend. “Don’t think so.”
Jordan held his hands up. “Don’t let me stop you, bro. If you wanna go bang your girl, you should do it.”
“Grow the hell up, Jordan.”
“I’m in high school, man. I’m supposed to act like it.”
“You’re in high school?” It could have been either Molly or I who said it. It was hard to tell because I was too stunned. I’d assumed Jordan was a first year. He had that fresh-out-of-school look and it was Friday; school kids should be at school.
Jordan’s mouth curled up. “You thought I was older? See, Loges, I could hit the pub with you without being carded.”
Logan shook his head at Molly’s laughter. “For god’s sake, don’t encourage him.”
“Then how’d you guys meet?” Molly gestured between them.
“When Loges moved back up here this year, I came with him. He’s a sissy like that; can’t have his little brother too far away.”
Logan tensed beside me and something curled around my insides and squeezed. This was Logan’s bother. He had a brother? I tried to recall if he’d ever mentioned his family, but I was pretty sure he avoided answering my questions. It was probably wrong, but I felt a tad betrayed.
I smiled at Jordan. “So you’re in boarding school then?”
“Nope. We’re baching it up, right Loges?”
Logan drew in a noisy breath. Well, if he was annoyed then I should be doubly so; we’d been friends for weeks. I’d thought we were kind of close and he’d never mentioned that he had a sibling, let alone one who lived with him. That told me one thing: he’d definitely decided that I wasn’t girlfriend material. And that there was why I hadn’t heard from him all week.
A sharp pain speared my shin and my gaze shot directly across the table to where Molly smiled at me like she was expecting an answer. “Right, Liv?”
I had no idea what she was asking. Her brow raised in question. Darn it. “Yeah, I guess so,” I hedged.
A silence stretched so long that if this were a movie crickets would have been chirping.
“So, what grade are you in?” Molly asked.
“What grade do you think?” Jordan challenged.
“Seven.”
He barked out a laugh. “I do not look thirteen.”
They bantered back and forth while my gaze shifted to a couple sitting across the way. They must have been a little older than us. It was hard to tell, but he was looking at her in that awestruck way, hanging on her every word, or maybe he wasn’t hearing anything at all because he was so caught up in her. I couldn’t see her face, but she’d be returning his affection for sure, and the way they looked at each other was like a knife to my stomach. Wherever Logan and I were headed, it certainly wasn’t there.
Someone cleared their throat directly beside my ear, and I turned to all three of them looking at me expectantly. Again. Molly flicked her gaze up to a waitress poised at the edge of the booth with a notepad, tapping a pencil across the yellow paper. This was pure torture, but I couldn’t be so rude as to up and leave, no matter how much I wanted to run away.
“Hot chocolate, thanks.” I gave her what I hoped was a friendly smile.
“Twelve, it’s gotta be twelve,” Molly said, overly loud. “What do you reckon, Liv?”
I glanced across the table and took in Jordan’s shaggy locks, much shorter than Logan’s, his angular jaw, and smattering of facial hair. Once again, much thinner and shorter than his brother’s. “Grade eleven.”
“Eleven,” Logan’s confirmation echoed.
Our drinks eventually arrived and I cradled the warm cup in my hands, taking generous sips. Once I’d reached the bottom of the mug, I watched Molly’s cup like a hawk, ignoring the closeness of Logan’s thigh right by mine. Of course ignoring it made me think about what it would be like to rest my hand on his firm muscle. If the muscle would even be firm. It sure looked it. Gee, I needed to get a grip. But that sure wouldn’t happen sitting right by him, torturing myself with what ifs when I’d never lay my hand on that leg, never trail my fingers over that thigh. I sucked back a mouthful of air too thick to reach my lungs. Right then, I couldn’t care less how rude it was—I needed space, even if it was just for a few minutes.
“Excuse me.” I grabbed my purse. Logan didn’t move.
“Olivia?” Molly said, but I needed to leave. This whole thing had been too much.
“What happened? I say something wrong?” Jordan asked.
No doubt seeing his escape, Logan moved out of the booth.
“I’m going to the ladies,” I said while pulling out a twenty. I crossed to the counter and dropped the money where the waitress was fiddling with the till. It would be more than enough to cover both mine and Molly’s portion of the bill. Then I walked straight out and into the mall, my throat burning with the heat of rejection. Sure I’d made it clear that I didn’t want a relationship, but part of me may have been changing her mind. I didn’t understand what it was about this guy that made me feel fantastic one minute and like complete rubbish the next, but I hated it more than I hated my mother’s pompous dinner parties.
Something snagged my arm; a hand around my bicep. I yanked it away, knowing exactly who it would be.
“What is it?” Logan sounded confused.
“Just leave me alone. Please.”
“No, there’s something not right. What is it?”
I drew in a deep breath. “It’s nothing.”
He sighed, but his grip tightened around my arm as I continued to stare straight ahead at the escalator I’d almost reached. If he didn’t think I was important enough to mention his family to, then how I felt sure didn’t matter.
When he spoke his voice was small. “Jordan being here is not something I’m proud of, okay? And this week ... it’s been difficult.”
I turned around, my gaze meeting his soft blue eyes. “He’s your brother, and he doesn’t seem like anything to be ashamed of.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“It’s your brother, Logan—living with you. There’s nothing to be ashamed of about that. It’s a huge part of your life. It seems odd that you didn’t tell me.”
Logan ran his hand through his hair and glanced away. “You said you don’t want a relationship and damn it, Liv, that’s what I’m trying to do here.”
I closed my eyes and concentrated on drawing my next breath then letting it go again. He was right; I wasn’t his girlfriend, and I’d made it clear I didn’t want to be, so I had no right to be upset he’d never told me about Jordan. In fact I had no right to feel anything. He didn’t want me and I didn’t want him either.
“I’m trying my best to give you time. But there’s just … there are things about me you wouldn’t like.”
“Right now, I don’t care.”
It was time to
go home. But Logan spun back around, his gaze blazing as he stepped so close there was barely an inch of space between us. His huge hand snagged mine and he leaned in, his face close to mine. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he said, “I’m sorry.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Sunday was a study day. I needed to finish my major Socio assignment, study for the upcoming Torts, and Constitutional Law exams and answer my phone, since it just pinged with a text.
What are you doing?
Logan. I glanced out the window at the miserable rain and sucked in my bottom lip to stop from smiling, trying to recall the pain from yesterday. Stupid tummy had no right to be flipping happily when I was still upset with him.
Studying.
Same here. This Socio essay is hard. Do you think increasing materialism increases the depression in a society?
I’m not answering your essay question for you.
It was worth a shot. I reckon the answer is yes. Think that’ll pull a high distinction?
Nope.
Things don’t replace relationships. The more things someone has, the more time they spend alone. Maybe I need more music to think properly. What are you listening to?
That last statement negates your comment about things replacing people.
:p
:p back at you.
Come here and do that.
Can’t. Studying.
Hey Liv?
Yeah?
I’m glad you met Jordan. He’s a good kid. Big eater though. Just hoovered every last piece of bread in the house. Who in hell has 6 ham and egg toasties for second lunch?
For real? Six!
Guess it makes up for him not eating any fruit. Kid’s all about carbs and protein.
Doesn’t that build muscle?
Yep. Maybe we’ll have spaghetti for dinner.With more meat than pasta.
You don’t need to build muscle, Logan.
Don’t I now? ;)
I’m not answering that.
You think I’m sexy.
I think you know it.
Ouch. I’m taking my sexy muscles to the shower. Then I’m cooking a delicious dinner of …