by Amanda Abram
I wanted to rip it out of the scrapbook and burn it.
Beside me, Logan sighed. “Did you guys at least win?”
“Sadly, no,” my mom replied somberly. “We came in third.”
“What a shame.” I reached over and shut the book and turned to my dad. “Don’t you guys have some burgers to grill up? I’m hungry.”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “Well, the princess has spoken, people. Back to work! We don’t want her wasting away!”
I shot him a glare as he and Mark laughed, got up from the table, and went back over to the grill.
“We’ll just leave the book out here, in case you guys want to keep looking at it,” my mom said before she and Rachel took off for the kitchen.
Once everybody had dispersed, Logan and I sat in awkward silence for a moment, staring at the scrapbook.
Finally, Logan cleared his throat and said, “Well, you and I certainly have quite the history, huh? We used to be friends. We even got married.”
“I want a divorce.”
He chuckled softly as he traced a finger along the edge of the scrapbook. I had to wonder if it was hard for him to look at it, knowing his mother had made it. It had been a few years since she’d passed away, after a long battle with cancer, and I knew he’d had a hard time dealing with her death. I’d even heard my parents talking soon after about him having to go to therapy to help him deal. I remember feeling so bad for him at the time, even though I hated him. I remember wanting to run over to his house and pull him into a big hug and tell him that everything was going to be alright. To hold him and console him like a friend would.
But we weren’t friends. Not anymore.
“It’s crazy to think we used to get along. That we used to be friends.” He glanced sideways at me. “What do you think happened?”
I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. He wasn’t sure what had happened between us to turn us from friends to enemies? Did he have selective amnesia or something?
“You’ve got to be joking,” I muttered shaking my head. “What happened is you became a jerk, always picking on me. Teasing me. Making fun of me. Humiliating me.”
His eyes shot up to the sky as though he was trying to recall a time he was ever mean to me. When he took too long, I decided to help him out.
“For instance, do you remember in the fifth grade when I got my first pair of glasses and you not only started calling me Freaky Four Eyes, but you also got the rest of the school to start calling me that as well?”
It only took him a second to remember. With a grin, he said, “Oh, yeah. Right. But hey, in my defense, those frames were way too big for your face. You looked like a bug. It was freaky.”
“Or, how about the time in eighth grade when you spelled out the word BOOBS in numbers on your calculator and then handed it to me, declaring—in front of our entire math class, mind you—that I should take it because those would be the only boobs I would ever have.”
Logan broke out into a laugh. A good, hearty laugh that indicated he did not feel one drop of remorse. “I remember that. Classic. At least I was mostly wrong, though. I mean, you’ve got a little something going on there.” He motioned to my chest.
My face burned with anger. “And the list goes on and on. You’ve been a jerk to me for seven solid years now, Logan, always making me feel like such a loser. And you’re still doing it! Yesterday was a great example of that.”
His face fell as a look of confusion replaced his look of amusement. “What are you talking about? What did I do yesterday?”
I bit my lower lip. I hadn’t planned on throwing that out there, it just came out before I had a chance to stop it. “You know what I’m talking about,” I grumbled, staring down at the wooden surface of the picnic table.
“No, I don’t.”
“Your reaction to the whole…bikini thing. You couldn’t have acted more disgusted if you’d tried.”
His jaw dropped. “Disgusted? Emma—”
“And whatever, I get it. I don’t look like Riley. Or Grace, for that matter. But you could have at least mustered up some form of a compliment, other than just a lackluster ‘fine’. Believe it or not, that took a lot of courage for me to show myself off to you like that, and you couldn’t wait to leave so you wouldn’t have to look at me anymore. Meanwhile, when Riley’s walking around in a bikini or sending you selfies, you have a hard time keeping your eyes in their sockets—”
“Whoa, Emma, stop.” Logan held out his hands in front of him defensively. “I didn’t—”
“Burgers are ready!” Mark called out as he headed over to the table with a plate full of meat.
My mother and Rachel both returned to the deck at the exact same moment with trays of condiments and burger toppings.
“Emma, sweetie,” Mom said as she set down her tray in front of me, “would you mind helping us with the rest?”
I glanced quickly over at Logan, who was staring at me with a serious look on his face that I couldn’t quite decipher, before turning back to my mom.
“I would love to,” I replied, thankful for the opportunity to get away from Logan before I could humiliate myself any further.
I moved to get up to follow my mom, but Logan grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said, his voice low so that nobody else could hear.
Something about the way he was looking at me when he said it made my stomach flip-flop. I chalked it up to hunger, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it had to do with something else.
I just wasn’t sure what that was.
Chapter Nineteen
EMMA
I didn’t talk to Logan for the rest of the afternoon, despite his attempts at getting me alone to do so. I made sure to spark up whatever conversations I could with Mark and Rachel, my own parents, and even Abby (even though she didn’t talk back) and then encouraged Mom and Dad to leave soon after we were done eating.
I’m not even sure I said goodbye to him.
I knew I was being kind of a jerk, but I didn’t know why, exactly. Why should I care what he thought about me, anyway? It wasn’t Logan I was trying to impress, it was Matt.
With a sigh, I set my book down on my nightstand and stared up at the ceiling. It was close to midnight and I had made no attempt at trying to fall asleep. I wasn’t very tired; I was too busy feeling annoyed. Still, I wanted to get up at a reasonable hour in the morning, so I leaned over to turn off the light when my phone buzzed next to my book.
Weird. Who would be texting me at this time of the night? Probably Chloe or Sophia, who I was sure stayed up as late as they could every night while not under their parents’ supervision. Turning on the phone, I expected to see either of their names staring back at me, but instead, it was Logan’s.
Logan: u awake?
My first thought was to not respond, but I knew that was pointless. His bedroom window faced mine, and obviously he was sending this text because he saw my light was on—therefore, he was assuming I was awake and he would send text after text for the rest of the night until I finally responded. Sure, I could just turn off my phone, but I hated to admit I was curious as to why he was contacting me so late. So, I texted him back.
Me: No.
It only took him a few seconds to respond.
Logan: nice try. I see a light on
Me: So?
Logan: so…we need 2 talk
Me: About what?
Logan: meet me outside
Me: Why would I do that? It’s late.
Logan: matt would be so impressed if he knew u snuck out of the house
Logan: he likes rebellious girls
I rolled my eyes at that. Whenever Logan wanted to get me to do something nowadays, he would just throw out Matt’s name and tell me he liked girls who did those sorts of things. Sadly, it seemed to work on me most of the time.
Me: Okay. Fine. Give me a couple minutes, I’ll meet you outside.
Logan: great. I’ll be waiting in ur
driveway
Tossing my phone aside, I changed out of my sleepwear and threw on a pair of jean shorts, a dark gray graphic tee that read Keep Calm and Read a Book, and slipped into a pair of sneakers before exiting the bedroom. Slowly and quietly, I tiptoed down the hallway, making sure to take extra care as I passed my parents’ bedroom. The noise of the stairs was going to be the biggest challenge, but luckily the creaking was mild, and I made it to the bottom with no problem. Grabbing my keys off the decorative table in the foyer, I headed out the door, locking it behind me.
Logan was already waiting for me as I exited the house. “I can’t believe you actually did it,” he said in a half-whisper as I approached him.
“Me neither,” I half-whispered back. My gaze flickered down to his hands, where he was holding onto a flashlight and a blanket. “What’s with the props?”
“We’re going on an adventure,” he replied, flashing me a grin.
I glanced at him skeptically. “An adventure? In the middle of the night?”
“Those are the best kind.” He turned on the flashlight. “Walk with me?”
“Walk? To where?”
“You’ll see,” he said mysteriously as he began to walk down the street.
The sensible part of my brain tried to encourage me to turn right around and go back inside the house. But the foolish part of my brain—the part that won out—told me to follow him.
So, I did.
I fell into stride beside him and we remained silent for a few steps, listening to the sounds of crickets chirping and frogs croaking in the distance. I loved the sound of nature at night in the summer; it was one of the many reasons I loved living on our street. There were only five houses: mine, Logan’s and Matt’s, and two houses farther down belonging to seasonal families that hadn’t made it up for the summer yet. It was a private, dead end street surrounded by woods, so there were a lot of nature sounds to be heard on a regular basis. Some of them were frightening, but for the most part, I found the other sounds to be therapeutic. Sometimes, I would just sit out on the deck at night, close my eyes and listen.
“I wasn’t disgusted, you know,” Logan said suddenly.
I turned my head and blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You insinuated earlier that you thought I was disgusted at seeing you in a bikini, but I wasn’t. I’m sorry if that was the impression you got.”
“Oh,” I said, biting my lower lip and staring down at the ground as we walked. I was hoping this conversation wouldn’t be brought up again.
“The truth is, I thought you looked hot.”
My breath hitched in my throat. Did Logan Reynolds just tell me he thought I looked hot? Was he feeling okay? I resisted the urge to reach over and feel his forehead to see if he was burning up.
But I was too distracted by the fact my own face was burning up. “Um…” was all I managed to get out.
Logan chuckled softly. “I’ve made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?”
“No,” I lied. I was just thankful for the fact it was pitch black out and he couldn’t see me blushing.
“Right,” he said, drawing out the word. “Look, Emma, I just didn’t think it was a good idea for you to go that party. Your naiveté would have made you an easy target with all the guys there.”
“My naiveté? What are you talking about?”
“See? You’re even naive about what you’re naive about.” He stopped walking and motioned to his right. “We’re here.”
I wanted to press him further, but my confusion over why we’d stopped walking took over. “What do you mean, we’re here? This is an empty lot of land for sale.” I pointed to the FOR-SALE sign stuck into the ground in front of us.
The land was put up for sale a couple years ago and an out-of-state couple purchased it and had the space all cleared out in preparation of building their dream home there. But apparently something fell through and before they started building, they put the land back up for sale, leaving an empty lot at the end of a long, dirt driveway shaded by trees.
“I know. It’s perfect,” Logan said, stepping onto the end of the driveway.
“Wait, we can’t be here,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because this is trespassing.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Emma. Nobody is going to care. Nobody is even going to know we were here.”
I folded my arms over my chest and kept my feet planted firmly to the ground. “It’s still illegal.”
“Even more reason to do it, then. Matt likes girls who break the law,” he said with a smirk.
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Seriously, Logan, I am not setting foot on this property.”
“Okay, I can work around that.”
I was wondering what he meant by that as he dropped the blanket onto the ground, stalked over to me, wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and lifted me off the ground.
“Logan!” I exclaimed in a whisper. “Put me down!” I attempted to push myself away from his chest and out of his grip, but to no avail. He held on tight as he carried me over the property line and after only a few steps, he slowly lowered me back to the ground.
“There,” he said in a low voice. “You’ve set foot on the property. You have now broken the law and there’s no undoing it, so you might as well make the best of it while we’re here.”
I would have been furious with him at that moment had I not realized he was still holding on to me, his hands now resting loosely on my hips, his chest still grazing mine, his face close enough that I could feel the slight tickle of his breath against my skin…
Swallowing hard, I pushed him away as forcefully as I could. He had some nerve, getting me to trespass and invading my personal space like that. Why did I keep willingly hanging out with him?
Retrieving the blanket from the ground, Logan pointed the flashlight at me and said, “I think you’re going to like what we’re about to do.”
“Which is what, exactly?” I asked as we began to walk again.
He said nothing until we reached the end of the path and the lot opened up to about an acre of nothing but flat, grassy land.
He pointed at the sky. “We’re going to stargaze.”
I gaped at him. “We’re going to what now?”
“Stargaze. It’s where you gaze. At stars.”
“Yes, I know what stargazing is, genius. I’m just surprised, that’s all. What inspired this?”
Logan shrugged as he set down the flashlight and opened the blanket, laying it out on the ground. “I got the impression you were mad at me earlier, and I wanted to make it up to you by having us do something I figured you would enjoy. Do you enjoy looking at stars?”
“Of course, I do,” I said with a nod.
“Well, so do I.”
That had to be a lie. There was no way that Logan liked stargazing. That was way too boring and nerdy of an activity for him.
“Okay…” I said as he sat down on the ground and motioned for me to join him. Absent-mindedly, I obeyed him, taking a seat next to him on the blanket. “But why did we have to come here to stargaze instead of just doing it in one of our backyards?”
“What’s the fun in that? This way, I got you to do a couple things you normally wouldn’t do, like sneak out of the house and break the law. Besides,” he said, “being here gives us privacy. We can talk without having to lower our voices, since there’s nobody around to hear us.”
I wasn’t sure what there was to talk about, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to at least lie back and tune him out while I searched the night sky for shooting stars—one of my favorite pastimes when I was little.
As soon as I was on my back, he lay down next to me—so close our arms were just barely touching. A strange, unfamiliar feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said it was nerves. But not the kind of nerves I got when I thought about flying, or the kind I’d gotten on the Ferris wheel the other day. No, these nerv
es felt different. They sort of fluttered in my stomach before traveling to my chest and quickening my heartbeat.
“You know, my mom and I used to do this all the time,” he said suddenly.
I turned my head to look at him. He was staring up at the sky with a wistful expression on his face, most likely recalling fond memories from his childhood.
“She would bring me outside to look at the stars every opportunity she could get,” he continued. “Sometimes, she’d even wake me up in the middle of the night if there was some sort of event like a meteor shower or a lunar eclipse. She loved this kind of stuff and wanted to make sure I did, too.”
Arching a brow, I said, “And do you?”
He smiled. “I do, as a matter of fact. But don’t tell anyone because they’ll think I’m a nerd. Like you.” His smile turned to a smirk when I poked his shoulder with my finger.
I sighed as my eyes traced invisible lines between some of the stars, designing my own constellation. “I miss your mom,” I said softly. It was true. Heather Reynolds was breathtakingly beautiful, caring, funny, and sweet. In a lot of ways, she was always like a second mother to me, and my heart broke the day my parents told me she’d passed away.
I could only imagine how Logan felt.
“Me too,” he said quietly, all visible signs of mirth gone from his face.
I could tell this was a topic Logan didn’t want to delve too deeply into, so I refrained from saying anything more. Instead, I waited for him to speak again.
“So,” he said finally, a minute or so later. “You still into Matt?”
His question caught me off guard. Was I still into Matt? Of course I was still into Matt. Why wouldn’t I be?
“Um, yeah, I am,” I said. I turned onto my side and propped myself up on my elbow. “And I’m starting to wonder when you’re going to come through with what you promised.”
He turned and positioned himself similarly to me, so we were now facing each other. “Hey, these things take time. Good things come to those who wait.”
“Yeah, well, I’m beginning to think it’s never going to happen.” I plucked a piece of grass out of the ground and flicked it in his direction. “I don’t get the impression he’ll ever be into me, no matter how much you try to change me.”