by S. H. Kolee
“Sure,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
I felt oddly bereft when he disconnected the call, but told myself I was being ridiculous. If I didn’t want to lose Logan as a friend, I had better set some boundaries. Otherwise, I had a bad feeling that our friendship would veer severely off-track, never to be recovered. And not having Logan in my life was something I didn’t want to consider.
Chapter Five
I woke up with a scream lodged in my throat and the cold fingers of a terrifying nightmare still pulling at me. My clothes were soaked with sweat, and I gasped for breath. I forced myself to focus on my surroundings, telling myself that it was nothing but a dream. I took long, shuddering breaths, trying to slow my erratic pulse.
Dawn was on the brink of breaking, bathing my bedroom in an eerie, pale light. It had been a while since I had dreamed about Cassie. I welcomed the dreams that were happy memories of the past. I dreaded the ones that were nightmares about her death. Unfortunately, I had woken up from the latter.
I glanced at the clock and saw that it was barely five o’clock in the morning. I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to blot out the visions that crowded my mind by focusing on the good memories of Cassie. I remembered the first time I had seen her. I had walked into the fifth-grade classroom, so nervous that I could’ve sworn my knees were knocking together. As a painfully shy ten-year-old, there was nothing more terrifying than having twenty sets of curious eyes studying me while the teacher introduced me.
I clearly remembered focusing on Cassie in the crowd of students. It was hard not to notice her because she stood out, even then. Her blonde hair was so shiny that it practically gave her a halo and flowed down her back in golden waves. She had a barrette clipped on each side, and I remembered wishing that my mousey brown hair would cascade like hers. I immediately recognized her as one of the special people. The type of person everybody flocked to and wanted to be friends with.
She had smiled at me when I passed by her desk on my way to my designated seat in the back of the classroom. I had looked at her blankly, confused by her friendliness, and then proceeded to spend the rest of the morning mentally kicking myself for not smiling back. I was naturally introverted and at an awkward stage, and I had been flummoxed by her gesture of friendliness. I told myself that her smile didn’t mean anything because I doubted she needed any more friends.
I was right in my assessment when I saw the other girls competing to sit next to her at lunch. We were assigned tables by class, and I sat at the end of ours, a few seats away from the rest of the group. I tried to concentrate on eating my sandwich, but my stomach was roiling from nervousness and embarrassment. I had no one to talk to, no friend to whisper secrets to, and I felt like an outcast.
I had dumped most of my lunch untouched in the trashcan and gone outside for recess. I sat near the swings on the wooden boundary that ran the perimeter of the playground, apart from everyone else. I was trying to look engrossed in digging at the dirt with the toe of my shoe when I saw a shadow fall over me. I looked up, and there she was, smiling down at me like we were already friends.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Cassie Brooks.”
“Hi. I’m Madison Bailey.” I winced at how squeaky my voice sounded, but I smiled to try to mask my nervousness. I was surprised when Cassie sat down next to me.
“Where did you move from?”
“Indiana. My dad and I moved here ‘cause he got a new job.”
Cassie cocked her head at my statement. “What about your mom?”
I felt my face getting hot from embarrassment. I hated explaining about my mother because people either felt sorry for me or thought I was weird. I hated both reactions. “She doesn’t live with us. She left when I was little.”
Cassie nodded her head with more understanding than was to be expected from a ten-year-old. “My Uncle Richard left, so my cousin Robbie only has a mom now.”
I was unsure of how to respond, so I just stayed silent.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
I shook my head. “No. What about you?”
“I’m a lonely only, too!” she said enthusiastically, as if she had just found out we were twins that had been separated at birth. “Cool!”
She dug into her pocket and opened her hand to reveal two Hershey Kisses.
“Want one?” she asked. “Kellie gave them to me because she wants me to go over to her house today.” She rolled her eyes, looking more like an adult than a child. “I hate going to her house. She always makes me play pretend with her lame Barbies. I’m a little too old for that.”
I took one of the Hershey Kisses and silently unwrapped it, putting it in my mouth. The chocolate started to melt on my tongue and I relished the sweetness of it.
“You don’t really talk much,” she commented.
I felt myself flush again, not sure if she was insulting me.
She continued with an encouraging smile, seeming to have noticed my discomfort. “I like that. Everyone around me is always talking, talking, talking. Sometimes I just want to yell at everyone to be quiet so I can hear myself think.”
I smiled a genuine smile, feeling proud that Cassie admired a trait in me.
“Wanna come over today?” she asked as she unwrapped her Hershey Kiss.
“Why?” I blurted out without thinking. I didn’t understand why she was trying to befriend me—a small quiet girl who spent most of her time inside her own head.
Cassie laughed like I had said something funny. Her laugh was lilting and musical and completely infectious. I started giggling as well, although I had no idea what she found so funny.
“I like you, Maddie,” she announced with conviction. “I think we’re going to be really good friends.”
I usually hated the nickname Maddie, but coming from Cassie’s lips, I suddenly didn’t seem to mind it anymore.
That had been the start of a decade-long friendship where we had become more like sisters than just friends. My chest ached at the memory and the loss of her in this world and in my life.
I tried to clear my head. It was only natural to be preoccupied with thoughts of Cassie since her birthday was coming up, but dwelling on her loss wouldn’t do me any good.
I got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, grimacing at my wild hair and sleep-bleary eyes that looked back at me in the mirror. After a quick shower, I had coffee and toast and then turned on my computer to work on this week’s article.
Despite the distractions of Cassie’s memory, I was able to get a decent amount of work done for my article. It was about a local restaurant that was 100% volunteer driven, where customers could get a hot meal and pay whatever they could afford. The grumbling of my stomach finally distracted me from my writing, and when I checked the time, I was surprised to see that it was already almost one o’clock.
I went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, staring at the dismal contents. I hadn’t gone grocery shopping in a while, and it showed. I ended up just nuking one of the frozen meals that I always kept stocked in the freezer and called it a day.
As I ate, my mind wandered to Logan. I wondered if he was eating lunch or if he was too busy working to take a break. I knew he often skipped lunch with his insane workload, and I found myself worrying about him. I frowned, realizing that I should be thinking about Adam instead of Logan. I gave Adam a quick call, but his phone went straight to voicemail, and I hung up without leaving a message.
After lunch, I went back to work, but it was harder to concentrate this time. I found myself frequently glancing at my silent phone until I finally forced myself to put it in my bedroom and switch the ringer to silent so I would stop obsessing.
My discipline paid off, and I spent the rest of the afternoon diligently working on my article. It was six o’clock when I finally turned off the computer. I stretched with a yawn and rolled my stiff shoulders, feeling the strain of having been hunched over my computer for so many hours.
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br /> I was disappointed when I retrieved my cell phone from the bedroom and saw that I had no missed calls and the only text I had received was from Emily, complaining about her difficult client at work and how she wanted to commit hari-kari on herself to avoid the woman.
I wrote back a suitably sympathetic response and decided that the only thing I was going to do tonight was sit in front of my television and eat Chinese food. After I ordered some Kung Pao Chicken and fried rice, I turned on the television and waited for the delivery to arrive.
I was rewarded by the buzzer to the entrance of my apartment building sounding only twenty minutes later. I pressed the button to unlock the front door without bothering to check that it was the delivery guy through the intercom since I wasn’t expecting anyone else. After a few seconds, there was a knock at my door and I grabbed my wallet before opening it. I blinked in surprise when I saw Logan standing in front of me instead of a man bearing Chinese food.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out. The last person I expected to show up unannounced was Logan, especially considering how our last meeting had ended. Despite having spoken to him on the phone yesterday and having watched Rear Window together, I still felt uncomfortable seeing him in person. I was still keenly aware of his physical presence—something I thought would have worn off by now. He was dressed for work in a grey suit that was perfectly tailored to his body. His black dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and showed off the tanned expanse of his throat. His tie had been discarded sometime during the day, which combined with his mussed blond hair, made him look like a sophisticated, urbane man coming home from a long day at work. I was painfully aware of how grubby I looked in my sweatpants and t-shirt. I was thankful that I was at least wearing a bra.
“I guess it’s too much to expect to be greeted with a hug and a cheerful hello,” he said drily as he deftly walked past me into the apartment. I was still standing there with my wallet in hand, feeling surprised yet pleased by his sudden appearance. I closed the door and followed him into the living room. He took off his jacket, draped it across the back of the couch, and plopped down like he was planning on staying for a while.
“You shouldn’t just buzz people up like that,” he admonished. “I could have been some serial killer pressing on random buzzers until someone let me in.”
I dropped my wallet on the coffee table and put my hands on my hips. “First of all, I was expecting you to be my Chinese food. Second of all, you never answered my question. What are you doing here? I thought hell had to freeze over for you to leave work before seven o’clock.”
“I made an exception today since I got so much work done over the weekend,” he explained easily. “Good choice on the Chinese food. What exactly are we having?”
“I’m having Kung Pao Chicken and fried rice,” I answered acerbically, dropping onto the couch next to him. “I have no idea what you’ll be having, since I only ordered enough food for one person.”
Despite my tone, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see him. I had been afraid that things would be weird between us, but the momentary awkwardness I had felt when I first opened the door had disappeared. We seemed to be slipping easily into our comfortable friendship.
“It’s okay. I’m willing to share.” Logan picked up the remote and started flicking through the channel guide. “Nothing good comes on Monday nights,” he commented conversationally.
I laughed and grabbed the remote away from him. “Seriously, Logan. What are you doing here? You never drop by without calling first. Not that I mind. But what’s up?”
Logan quirked his mouth and shrugged. “I was just going a little stir crazy at work and decided to leave early. I found myself driving to your apartment instead of mine because I wanted to see you. Isn’t that enough?”
I flushed at his words, but I tried to hide my reaction. “Sure, it’s enough,” I said casually. “I’m glad you stopped by.”
Logan smiled, and for some reason, my heart thudded queerly against my chest at the sight. I was saved by the buzzer of the front door, and I jumped up to answer it. Logan made a movement to reach for his wallet, but I gave him a scathing look. He put his hands up and shrugged. “Sorry. It’s a habit.”
I quickly padded to the front door as he called out after me, “Remember to check to make sure it’s the delivery guy first.”
I obliged, since he had made a good point about blindly unlocking the door and letting whomever into my building.
After I paid for the food, I grabbed a couple of plates and sodas from the kitchen, and plunked everything down on the coffee table. Despite my earlier protestations, the portions from my local Chinese joint were obscenely large, and there was plenty for two people. We both dug into the food as the evening news blared in the background.
“Are you seeing Ella this week?” I asked the question casually, although I already knew he was seeing her tomorrow since I had overheard him making plans with her this past weekend.
“Yeah, we’re going out tomorrow.”
“Are you going to break up with her?” I tried to keep my tone neutral, because I didn’t want him to think that the answer mattered to me.
Logan shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll see how it goes. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to give her an actual chance instead of just blowing her off because she wants more.”
Great. I wanted to kick myself for ever having lectured him about his lack of commitment when it came to relationships. I stopped my thoughts in their tracks as soon as I realized where they were headed. I should be happy that Logan was giving someone an actual chance. Sure, I didn’t really think Ella was good enough for him, but all that mattered was that he seemed to like her. He must, if he was considering deepening their relationship. I told myself I was happy for him and forced myself to say the sentiment out loud.
“I think that’s a good idea. It doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to end up marrying her and having 2.5 kids, but it’ll be good for you to see what it’s like to be in a stable relationship. Maybe once you realize that committing to someone doesn’t necessarily mean a life sentence, you’ll be more willing to give other women a chance when the time comes.”
“I think you’ve been watching too much Dr. Phil,” Logan said with a grimace. “Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me to read a book about the different love languages. Kayleigh kept trying to foist that book on me, telling me that it would enlighten me. Fortunately, I’m as enlightened as I want to get.”
I laughed at his disgruntled expression. It was a relief to feel at ease with him again, and to be able to relax and enjoy his company. We spent the next few hours watching cheesy primetime sitcoms that were dominated by laugh tracks, but it was enjoyable because we were watching them together. I even found myself laughing at the dumb jokes because I was in such a good mood, although Logan’s acerbic comments at the lowbrow humor were even funnier.
“I should head home,” he finally said as he checked his watch. “I have a few files to go through before I go to bed.”
“Don’t stay up all night,” I said with a frown. Now I felt bad that he had left work early, but I couldn’t deny the small thrill that went through me because he had apparently wanted to see me enough to put his work on the backburner. I pushed the feeling away since it had no place in a strictly platonic friendship.
“What time do you want to leave on Saturday?” he asked as I walked him to the front door. My stomach dipped at the mention of going to Laurenston.
“Let’s leave at eleven, since Mrs. Brooks wants us there by one.”
Logan nodded, but he didn’t seem too enthused by the prospect of our trip, either. “Thanks for sharing your Kung Pao Chicken with me. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure,” I said, reaching to give him a hug. We often hugged each other hello and goodbye, like most friends do, and I had never given it much thought, but my awareness of him as a man reared its head again, and I felt myself react completely differently to this hug. His st
rong arms enveloped me, and I felt lost in the warmth of his firm, muscled body and the scent of his faintly discernible cologne. His head briefly rested on top of mine, and I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sink deeper into him. I felt an odd mixture of comfort and growing desire, and the unwelcome latter emotion made me quickly break the embrace.
“Talk to you later,” I said, pasting a smile on my face and praying he hadn’t noticed that anything was amiss. His expression was completely normal. He obviously had felt nothing beyond friendship in our embrace.
“Later,” he said with a quick smile, and then he was gone.
I closed the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves. I was being ridiculous. I was the one reading way too much into our relationship and if I wasn’t careful, I would ruin one of the best friendships I had ever had. I swore to myself that I would keep my head on straight and not let errant emotions get in the way.
Chapter Six
The rest of the workweek went by without incident. I met Emily for lunch on Wednesday, and I reassured her that everything was fine between Logan and I, and that my relationship with Adam was back on track. Adam came over on Thursday, and I made him dinner and then we spent a comfortable night in. I went over to his apartment on Friday, and he reciprocated in kind, although his version of dinner was heating up two vegan frozen meals.
I decided to not stay over at Adam’s place on Friday night. I was already feeling antsy about going to Laurenston the next day, and I preferred to sleep in the comfort of my own bed.
Saturday turned out to be a beautiful day, unusually warm and sunny for April, and I dressed for the warm weather in a gray-striped, casual maxi dress and sandals. I paired it with a denim jacket in case it got a little chilly later, and anxiously waited in the living room for Logan to pick me up. I dreaded seeing Mrs. Brooks today, but felt that it was my duty. For a large part of my life, Mrs. Brooks had been like a mother to me and had taken me under her wing. She had been the one to take me to buy my first bra and explained that I wasn’t bleeding to death when I got my period at an early age. She had always been a happy and cheerful woman—a social butterfly who made friends easily and doted on her daughter. Cassie’s death had changed all that. She was a shell of the woman she had once been, refusing to accept her daughter’s death. In rare times of lucidity, she acknowledged the fact that Cassie was no longer alive, but I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Most of her waking hours were spent waiting for Cassie to come back home.