Because of Logan

by Erica Alexander

  Three years later, and I still can’t believe I fell for his smooth talk.

  I went on a few dates in freshman year at Riggins and dated Jon for all of three weeks in sophomore year. And what a mistake that was. But he’d been so charming and so insistent, and I thought why not? Ugh. He turned out to be a douche of the first order.

  River hated his guts on sight. I didn’t miss how Jon’s greedy eyes fell all over her when they first met after we’d been on a few dates. We broke up not long after that.

  It has always been every guy’s reaction when they first meet my sister. They forget I exist the moment River walks into a room. It can’t be helped. It’s nothing that she does. It’s just her. They’re all drawn to her.

  It’s like she has her own gravitational pull. I’m just the moon hanging around, and she is the sun, and as soon as any guy enters her stratosphere, they’re hooked.

  Except for Logan. I expected it. I looked for it but found . . . nothing. He doesn’t seem to be attracted to her at all.

  The week’s flying by. It’s already Wednesday, and this class, Structure of English Language, is putting me to sleep.

  My phone vibrates in my backpack. I grab it and hide it under the desk. I’m seated toward the back. I don’t think the professor can see me, but we’re not supposed to use cell phones in class and I try to be discreet.

  Logan’s texting me.

  I keep waiting for him to change his mind. Why is this gorgeous guy interested in me? I key in the unlock code and open my text message app. I can’t help the smile that comes over my face.

  Logan has been texting me all week, asking all kinds of questions, and he will not tell me what he’s planned for Saturday. We haven’t been able to see each other even though we live on the same block.

  This double major in English and Communications is kicking my ass. Between classes, my daycare job, and his odd hours at work this week, all we manage are text messages.

  Three more days until I see him again. The thought fills my belly with butterflies. I’m nervous and excited at the same time. I don’t remember being this eager to see someone since high school when Blake asked me out for the first time at a Halloween party our senior year, and we all know how that ended.

  I had to change his contact name back to Logan again this morning. River keeps changing it to variations of Hot Cop. This morning it was I hope Hot Cop Has a Big Cock.

  She has the sense of humor of a fourteen-year-old boy. I should change the passcode, but I know she’ll guess it within a few tries. I need a number I can relate to or I’ll forget it completely, and River knows them all.

  Logan: What’s your favorite food?

  Skye: I love Italian food.

  Logan: Like?

  Skye: Lasagna. Nothing better than homemade lasagna. And garlic bread too. You?

  Logan: I make a mean lasagna. I’m going to cook for you one day soon.

  Skye: You’ll be my chef?

  Logan: I’ll be anything you want.

  I have no idea how to respond to that. He’ll be anything I want? A picture of a naked Logan served on a platter pops in my mind. My face burns with the image.

  I type and delete my answer three times. I know he can see the dots on his side and I have no idea how to respond to him.

  Logan: Are you blushing right now?

  Skye: No?

  Logan: Liar

  Skye: Maybe

  Logan: I knew it! Back to work. Talk to you soon.

  What do I want? I ask myself again, this time not thinking of Logan but myself. I’m not sure. I want to be happy, and I am happy.

  I count the blessings in my life every day. I have a loving family, parents who dote on me and support me in anything and everything. A sister who, as crazy as she is, always has my back even if at first glance it doesn’t show. But I want more. I’m just not sure what that more is. No. I’m lying to myself. I do know what I want, but I’m afraid to want it. I’m afraid to say it aloud because then I might jinx it somehow.

  I can rationalize it all I want and make plans to venture out of my carefully constructed shell, but I know not everyone can be a leader. Some people are happy to follow and are content in the way they live their lives, but I’m not one of them. I could lie to myself and stick to the shadows, but of late, I’m craving the light. This self-imposed shell feels constrictive. I’m outgrowing it, and I have no idea what to do with myself.

  Sometimes, I wish I could be first in something. Leave the first tracks on the road. Guide instead of follow. But the thought terrifies me as much as it draws me in.

  Chapter Six

  I thought that by now, three days after seeing Skye that morning at Pat’s Cafe, my lust for her would have settled. It hasn’t. I find myself thinking about her more often than I like to admit. And it scares me. I’ve never been one to text girls all the time. But I can’t help it. I think of something and want to ask her about it.

  A part of me wants to retreat and call the whole thing off. But the bigger part is excited about this girl. I like her, and I’m not so blind to my own flaws that I can’t see how being into her shakes the walls I’ve built around my heart.

  I wish Liam were here and I could talk to him about it. I can’t imagine opening up to anyone else. I can’t talk to him, so I do the only thing I can. I text him. I do this every so often. I don’t expect him to answer. Last time we spoke, Liam said he was going to turn his phone off. Something to do with phone signals being tracked by insurgents and safety. By the time he finally gets his phone back on, he’ll have a book’s worth of texts from me.

  Logan: I met a girl.

  I don’t expand on that text message. For now, that’s all I’ll allow myself to say. I just need someone to know, even if that someone is stuck somewhere in the Middle East and has no way of replying to me right now. Again, I wish my brother were here with me instead of wherever he is. As proud of Liam as I am, I can’t help the fear in my heart for him.

  I can lie to myself and say the images in my head are an exaggeration of the truth, and her lips are not as pink as I remember, her eyes not as blue, her body not as sexy, and her hair not as golden, but the problem with lying to yourself is that in the end, you still know the truth.

  It’s funny how I think about her in colors when my entire life has been black and white.

  We’ve been texting back and forth. She has responded to all my texts but has initiated none. I wonder if it's just shyness or if she’s not as interested in me as I am in her. It will be easier to walk away if she’s not into me. The thought of walking away—of her not liking me—triggers a dull ache in my chest. I’m not looking for a serious relationship. Not now, maybe never.

  Then, why do I keep thinking about her as if she has a place in my life, in my future?

  Only one way to find out.

  I have a night shift again, and the clock on the cruiser dash says it’s 1:11 a.m. She must be asleep by now, but I send her a message anyway, not expecting her to see it or respond until morning.

  Logan: Sweet dreams.

  Skye: Thank you. I would wish you the same, but I guess you’re working.

  Logan: What are you doing up this late? You should be sleeping.

  Skye: Some guy keeps texting me.

  Logan: That must be very annoying.

  Skye: Nah…I kind of like it.

  I stare at her response for a full minute before replying, smiling the whole time.

  Logan: I kind of like it too.

  Skye: Be safe, Logan.

  Logan: I will. Have a good night.

  Chapter Seven

  Our date is tomorrow, and I have yet to know what we’re doing or where we’re going, except that Logan said to keep the entire day open and that he’d tell me more about it later. I haven’t heard from him today yet, and it’s already the afternoon. I got used to hearing from him every morning and throughout the day.

  My fingers hover over his name on my text app. For once, River hasn’t changed the contac
t name. I think she ran out of words that rhyme with cop and cock.

  I have yet to initiate a text to him. I wonder if he thinks I’m playing hard to get or snubbing him. That’s not it at all. I just don’t know what to say.

  Skye: Hi.

  His response comes right away.

  Logan: Hey, there. Was just about to text you.

  Skye: About tomorrow…

  Logan: I hope you’re not texting me to cancel.

  Skye: No. Not at all.

  Logan: Curious?

  Skye: If I were a cat, I’d be dead.

  Logan: LOL, clever.

  Skye: So……

  Logan: I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m. Dress comfortable and warm.

  Skye: Where are we going again?

  Logan: Nice try.

  Skye: >: (

  Logan: Is that supposed to be a mad face emoji?

  Logan: Cute!

  Skye: What kind of comfortable are we talking about? PJs comfy or business casual comfy?

  Logan: I’ve seen your PJs. They may be comfortable, but definitely not warm.

  Skye: …

  Logan: Don’t think too hard. A favorite pair of jeans and a sweater will be fine. And no fancy shoes needed.

  Logan: Got to go. See you tomorrow morning.

  River finds me staring at my open closet.

  I look over my shoulder when I hear her behind me. I don’t know what to wear.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “How do you know what to wear?”

  I continue to stare at my closet as if an outfit will jump out of it and say, pick me, pick me.

  “He told me to wear something I love and something comfortable.”

  “So, what will it be, pajamas or yoga pants?”

  I smile. “Hmm, he’s seen me in both, so I thought I’d try something new.”

  River walks around me into the small closet and comes out holding a blue peasant dress in one hand and skinny jeans and the blue sweater that’s an exact match to my eyes in the other.

  “Go with the dress. Easier access. He can just slide his hands up your legs and get to home base—”

  I take the dress from her and hang it back in the closet.

  “He said to dress warm and suggested I wear a favorite pair of jeans and a sweater.”

  She thrusts the jeans and sweater at me.

  “Well?”

  I grab them and put them in front of me, looking in the mirror.

  “I know. I was trying to find something sexier, you know. I still can’t believe he’s asking me out. If this will be my one and only date with him, I want to at least look good for it.”

  “Why would it be a one and only date?”

  “Have you seen him? I know the first time, you were drunk, but the second time, you were in full possession of your faculties—”

  “Awe, shucks. Thank you.” River grins at me.

  “Correction, the second time, you were sober,” I say.

  She play-punches me in the shoulder.

  “Skye, any guy would be lucky to have you. You are kind, smart, beauti—”

  I stop the compliment train before it derails into utopia territory.

  “Guys like him? They don’t go after girls like me. Not when there are so many women available who are far more beautiful and sexier than me. This is a college town. They’re everywhere.”

  And I still can’t believe he asked me, and not you.

  “Why would he ask me out? He only had eyes for you. Plus, Law and Order is so not my thing,” River replies.

  Ugh. I guess I said that out loud. I’m always very careful not to let River know about the many guys who passed me over for her. She’d be upset about it, and it’s not like she tries to get their attention. They can’t help it.

  I exhale and ignore her question.

  “Okay, jeans and a sweater it is. He also said no fancy shoes.”

  “Hold on,” River says and walks to her room.

  When she comes back, she’s holding her favorite pair of dark brown suede boots. They’re soft and warm and so comfortable, they feel like being barefoot. I can’t believe she’s letting me borrow them.

  “Okay, you can borrow these, but I expect you to name your firstborn after me.”

  I reach for them before she changes her mind, but she pulls them back just as my fingers graze the soft as butter suede.

  “Better yet, you have to name all of your children after me. River the Second, River the Third, River the Fourth, and River the Fifth. It’s a very versatile name. It will fit both boys and girls.”

  “I’m having four kids?”

  “Yes. I want lots of nieces and nephews since I plan on having none myself. I can be the fun auntie who spoils your kids rotten and then returns them to you sugared up and cranky. They’re gonna love me.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve heard River say she doesn’t want to have kids, but every time she sees a baby, she goes all mushy over them. I’m not buying it.

  “Okay, got the outfit and the boots. What else?”

  “Make sure to put on some sexy underwear. Even if he never sees it, it will make you feel sexier and confident.”

  I riffle through the dresser drawer.

  “I need to go shopping.”

  “Nope. I have it covered.”

  She reaches under my bed and pulls out a shopping bag.

  How long was that there?

  “Here.”

  River hands me two wrapped boxes.

  “I thought we weren’t exchanging any gifts. You said—”

  “I know, we’re saving to buy a second car, but you’re only twenty-one once.”

  I don't point the flaw in her logic that we're only any age once.

  “Well, in that case, here.”

  I grab a box from my nightstand and give River a gift of my own.

  “We’re terrible non-gifters.”

  “I don’t think non-gifter is a word.”

  “It is now. I’ll even submit it to Webster’s if it makes you feel better, Miss Proper English. Come on, open the bigger box first,” River instructs me.

  I rip the paper off to find a familiar looking pink box. “Victoria’s Secret?”

  River laughs.

  “I had a hunch you’d need it. Go ahead. Open it.”

  “Well, my underwear problem just got solved.” I pull the lingerie set from the box. A panties and bra set in a soft lavender. It's delicate and feminine, without trying too hard to be sexy.

  “Open mine.”

  River rips through the paper and opens the box.

  “You didn’t.”

  I smile at her.

  “I know how much you loved it.”

  “Yes, but we’d agreed it was way too much money for a scarf and I was going to wait for a sale,” River says as she wraps the purple silk scarf around her neck.

  It's made and hand-painted by a local artist, and each is a unique piece of wearable art. This one has various shades of purple, violet, and deep blue. The colors blend in such a way that it’s like looking at one of those pictures of a nebula in space. Some people frame them. They’re that beautiful. Purple is River’s favorite color, and she almost cried when she saw the price tag on the scarf a few days ago when we first saw it. We both knew it would never go on sale and would most likely be sold within hours. River got a phone call and stepped out of the store to talk, and I bought it without her knowing.

  “The color goes perfectly with your eyes and hair. And don’t worry about the cost. I found a great coupon,” I lie.

  She knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t call me on it. That’s what grateful sisters do.

  “Thank you, Skye.”

  She hugs me.

  “Now open the other box.”

  I start to rip the paper off the rectangular box when I catch the look on her face.

  “River?”

  She’s full-on smiling now. A very devious smile.

  No, she
wouldn’t. Would she?

  I pull the wrapping paper away from the box and—she did. Yes, she did. I am now the owner of a Rabbit—a pink one. “River!”

  She falls back on my bed laughing.

  “I told you I’d get you one. If Logan doesn’t cut it, you’ve got a friend to help you out.”

  “River, I can’t even—”

  “Or better yet, just bring it on your date tomorrow. Double the fun!”

  “What? No—just no. There’s no way I’d bring this on a date or even suggest it.”

  I open the drawer on my nightstand and put it inside.

  “And don’t even think about saying anything to Logan about it.”

  “Ah, c’mon, Sis! It's just between you and me. I won’t tell a soul. Unless I forget and it slips out.”

  “I’m not feeling a whole lot of confidence in you right now.”

  “Come on. I’m hungry. Let's get something to eat and talk date strategy.”

  Chapter Eight

  I’m at her door at ten. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date that started in the morning, but what I’ve planned requires daylight.

  The sound of the lock being turned sends a shiver of excitement down my spine and right to my groin. I haven’t even seen her and my dick is already trying to stand at attention.

  She smiles a shy smile, and I feel like I’m fifteen again, going on my very first date.

  “Hi, is this okay?” she asks, pointing at herself.

  “I wasn’t sure what to wear since you’re keeping wherever we’re going a secret.”

  “It’s perfect. You look beautiful.”

  “Okay.”

  Her smile grows bigger.