by London Casey
Because I was pregnant.
Pregnant with Logan’s baby.
I ran through Tripp’s house, taking the steps two at a time. Logan’s door was open a little and when I crashed through it, I gasped.
It was trashed.
The nightstand was tipped over. The lamp was on the floor, turned on. The lampshade was at an awkward angle, shining the light like I was in the middle of a horror movie. To my right, the mirror on the large dresser was shattered. It was obvious Logan had punched it. The spider crack climbed all the way to the edges. When I looked in the broken mirror, I saw hundreds of broken reflections of myself.
How strangely ironic and purposeful.
I thought about Logan having bad luck for seven years. Wasn’t that the thing? With a broken mirror?
Like that mattered right then.
I turned and saw the top of Logan’s head on the other side of the bed. He was sitting on the floor, facing the window and wall.
I slowly walked around the bed.
Logan hadn’t moved and the worst possible thought came to me. I knew what had happened to Tripp’s brother. What he had done. I didn’t want to believe for a second that Logan could do something like that - suicide - but if everything had become too much…
When I saw Logan’s eyes open, then blink, I felt somewhat relived.
“Logan,” I said and collapsed to the floor next to him.
“Annie,” he said.
I saw his right hand, the blood leaking from his knuckles, streaming down his fingers to the carpet where it was quickly absorbed. It would leave a bitch of a stain but that could always be cleaned up. Just like the broken mirror, it could be replaced. And the lamp knocked over, it could be picked up.
But the pain and loss… my pregnancy… that was there, real, and not going away with a simple fix.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
I kissed his cheek and held my head to his. I touched his cheek and tried to turn his head. He refused and I backed away.
I saw his hand again and reached for the bed. I grabbed one of the pillows and took the pillow case off it. I crawled to the other side of Logan, moving slowly, like I was approaching a deadly animal. I took his hand and gently wiped at it, making sure there wasn’t any glass stuck in his knuckles. When I touched the open wound, Logan didn’t flinch. He just stared straight ahead. He was like a zombie, offering nothing. I wrapped his hand up in the pillow case the best I could and tied it tight. I crawled back to his other side and sat next to him.
“I should have answered your call,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“Okay,” Logan said.
My heart broke to pieces.
I waited a few minutes and then let my head rest on his shoulder. He didn’t shoo me away and that was a good sign. With my right hand, I touched his left hand. His fingers were closed together and I watched as Logan opened his fingers for me. I let out a sigh and then the emotions came.
Thinking of Logan in pain.
His grandfather gone.
Me pregnant.
Logan not even knowing that part yet.
It all hit me.
So I cried.
And I didn’t care.
The tears poured from my eyes, over the bridge of my nose and down my face to Logan’s shirt.
“I can’t believe this,” Logan finally said. “I just can’t, Annie.”
“I’m so sorry, Logan.”
“He survived,” Logan said. “You know? He fought and he survived. Then he goes to sleep one night and that’s it. Gone.”
I thought about saying something… Well, at least he didn’t suffer. Well, at least the cancer didn’t kill him. Well, at least it was in his sleep. Well, at least…
But what good would it do?
Would I have wanted someone to say something like to me?
No.
So I just sat there, weeping in silence, letting Logan say what he had to say. That’s why I was there and why I needed to be there for him.
He turned his hand around so we could actually hold hands.
“I thought it was a fucking nightmare at first,” Logan said. “Hearing my mother’s fucking voice. Hearing those fucking words coming out of her mouth. And she said it… so calm. Right? So calm. Like… he’s gone. He’s… gone.”
I heard Logan take a shaky breath.
Not shaking from emotion but shaking from anger.
I felt his shoulder tense up.
He seemed ready to jump up and break something.
I squeezed his hand and hoped it would keep him down and calm…. or at least somewhat calm.
“She made it seem like it was just going to happen eventually,” Logan said. “And maybe for her that was the case. She watched him suffer and beat cancer. Maybe it’s kind of built-in, I don’t know. But that’s my fucking grandpa, you know? That’s… the man. The strongest man in the world. He taught me music. He pushed me to follow my dream. He beat cancer… and now he’s…” Logan paused and I could hear him losing it. I didn’t want to look up and see him cry. It would kill me. But Logan finished his sentence. “… dead…”
I reached across Logan’s body with my left hand and tugged at his shirt. I wanted him to come to me, to be vulnerable. I wanted him to feel safe in my arms. I wanted him to know it was okay to show weakness to me. I would never judge him and push him away.
“How’s your grandfather?” he asked.
I froze at first then slowly lifted my head. I looked at Logan, tears slowly running down his cheeks. Rockstars were sexy, but a rockstar genuinely showing emotion… that was very sexy. Heartbreaking, but sexy.
I almost hated my attraction to Logan right then.
“My grandfather? He’s… okay…”
Logan looked at me. “That’s good. I’m glad.”
“Logan,” I said, but had nothing else.
He blinked and I touched his face, wiping his tears.
“It hurts, Annie.”
“I know it does.”
“No. It’s bad. I wanted him there. I wanted him to see DownCrash on a big stage. On television. On… a CD in a store. So he could pick it up and know he did that.”
“I’m sure he knows,” I said.
“Yeah, you’re right. Do you believe in heaven?”
I let out a breath as my lips quivered. There was something so painful and innocent about Logan’s questions.
Where the hell were they coming from?
“Are you asking me if your grandfather is in heaven?” I asked.
“I don’t know what I’m asking. I have to go, Annie.”
Logan pushed me away and stood up. I hurried to stand too. Logan looked around the room and then opened the closet and grabbed a bag that looked already full and packed.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“A bag, what does it look like? I’m going back home.”
“I’ll come,” I said. “I’ll be there with you. Through this.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’ll sleep in my car if I have to. I don’t care.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
That’s nice of you to say?
It sounded nothing like Logan.
He moved around the room, collecting little things like cologne and deodorant, kicking the lamp out of the way. It hit the wall and light bulb shattered. When Logan got to the door, I hurried after him and managed to get the bottom of his t-shirt.
“Logan, you can’t just leave,” I said.
“Says who? You?”
He looked at me with a certain hated in his eyes.
“Talk to me,” I said. “Let me help you.”
“Help me? What are you going to do? Bring him back? Rub my shoulders for a week while I go through this? Fuck that. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy right now.”
“That’s not fair to me,” I said. “I’m trying to…”
“Fair to you,” Logan. He nodded and smiled. “Fair to you. Yeah. Fair. Why don’t you take a fucking ride b
ack to your hometown. Hug your grandfather. Kiss him. Ask him a question and see if he responds.”
I closed my eyes and refused to feel guilty about my grandfather being alive. I knew what Logan was doing. It was his way of showing pain and being hurt.
“I’m not leaving you,” I said. “I won’t. I can’t.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Logan said. He lifted his bag. “I am.”
“What about DownCrash?”
“Yeah? What about them?”
“Are you kidding me? You have to practice. The shows… the demo…”
“Are you in the fucking band?” Logan asked.
I should have taken the blow and shut my mouth. But I couldn’t. Looking at Logan was like looking at a million feelings at once. My urge to punch him, kiss him, hold him, hate him, love him… all at once.
“You know what?” I said. “I am part of the fucking band. For good now.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
My mouth opened and I knew I was going to say it no matter what. I figured all the romance and fun had been taken away already. We weren’t going to share that tender moment of wanting to be pregnant and sharing the news and letting our lives change the way we hoped.
This was all sudden.
All shocking.
All… fucked up.
And I made it worse.
“I’m pregnant, Logan,” I said.
Just like that.
Three words.
His lip curled and he looked at my stomach.
“I’m not lying,” I said. “I took five tests. I’m late… getting sick…”
“Fucking lovely,” Logan said. “Congrats.”
He turned and walked out of the room for good.
I listened to him storm down the steps and out of the house.
I stood in shock and felt a twisting pain everywhere. Like my blood had barbed wire flowing through it.
Fucking lovely.
Congrats.
As though he wasn’t part of the equation here. As though I had gone out and had sex with someone else. As though I had cheated on him and gotten pregnant that way.
This was Logan’s… he was the only one…
I heard the sound of a car door slam followed by a car starting. He peeled from the gravel driveway.
He was gone.
And I was alone.
The smell of Logan lingered around the room.
I turned and faced the broken mirror, seeing my broken reflection everywhere.
And that was me.
Broken.
I fell to my knees in the bedroom and remained there, letting it all out. Hating myself. Hating Logan. Hating Jared. Hating Chloe. Hating fate. Hating everything.
It was nothing but a cruel game.
What did I do wrong?
What did I do wrong to have Jared run off with someone else? And she got pregnant… and had the red carpet rolled out. What did I do wrong? I met a guy, I enjoyed him, I fell in love with him. I loved Logan. And then… this…
It was Tripp who found me in the bedroom.
I expected Maggie to come looking for me and when I heard footsteps and saw Tripp, I felt useless.
I looked up at him and he stood for a few seconds, staring down at me.
“I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
Tripp closed his eyes and lowered himself down. His hands touched my shoulders and he pulled me towards him. I hugged the lead singer of DownCrash and had no more tears to cry even though I tried.
“It’s okay,” he said. “This is hard for Logan.”
“I know,” I said. “His grandfather was everything…”
“So are you. Trust me.”
“I don’t feel it right now.”
Tripp touched my hair and squeezed. “It’ll be okay. He’s embarrassed of where he came from.”
“Aren’t we all?” I asked.
Tripp laughed and shook his head. “I know it all too well.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
I looked at Tripp. “Everything. I feel like Maggie dragged me into your band. And I…”
Tripp held my face in his hands. “Don’t be so nice all the time. Where’s the tough girl that had Logan spinning before?”
“She’s pregnant and broken hearted.”
“Yeah… well, one of those two you can fix.”
I nodded.
Tripp helped me stand and he looked around the room. “Fuck. At least he didn’t do anything I can’t fix.”
“His hand is messed up from punching the mirror,” I said. “I tied it with a pillow case.”
“He’ll be okay. Tatum and I will take care of things.”
“You’re going to go get him?”
“Not exactly,” Tripp said. “There’s no getting Logan. But we’ll be there to see it through. We’re a band. Through good times and bad. Thick and thin. Life and death. Happiness and hate.”
“What about recording and stuff?” I asked.
“It’ll be there,” Tripp said. “We aren’t going to be the same without Logan, right?”
I smiled and forced myself to nod.
But looking into Tripp’s eyes I could tell most of what he had just said was complete bullshit.
He just wanted to make sure Logan didn’t do anything crazy and dumb to himself.
That much I could at least be grateful for.
I touched my stomach and wanted to be sick.
I wanted Logan there.
I wanted a life that felt good to have.
Was that too much to ask for?
19
Hearing Tripp call Jason and tell him to cancel the upcoming DownCrash show because of Logan’s bad news was as gut wrenching as watching Tatum and Tripp load up Tripp’s car to leave town for a few days.
I tried to plead with both of them to come too but they insisted I stay.
That didn’t feel fair at all.
I was Logan’s girlfriend, right?
I should have been there for it.
Maggie held my hand as I cried when Tripp backed out of the driveway and left.
I spent the first day just lounging in my room, waiting to hear something from someone. It wasn’t until later that night did Maggie finally tell me that Tatum texted her. Just to say they were there and things were wild.
Of course they were wild.
But just how wild?
Two days later I called my doctor and they had an opening the same day. I couldn’t believe I had to utter the words over the phone to the receptionist…
“I took five pregnancy tests and they all came back positive…”
“Oh, well, that’s great!”
Yeah, really fucking great.
If the moment could get any worse, when I showed up to the appointment, young and alone, the receptionist gave me those consoling eyes that I hated to see. Those eyes that suggested I messed up my entire life. I wanted to tell her that first off, I knew who the father was, and second, he was dealing with a death in his family.
So take that, bitch.
But I didn’t say a word.
It was nobody’s business.
The doctor saw me and confirmed what the five pregnancy tests already told me.
I was pregnant.
Hearing it from a doctor made it seem too official though. Somewhere in my heart I seriously wanted to believe that I had grabbed five defective pregnancy tests.
No chance then.
I rushed from the doctor’s office and cried in my car for what felt like hours but only turned out to be five minutes. As I dried my eyes I spotted a dirty looking man stumbling through the parking lot. The second I saw him, he saw me. He started to rush towards the car and I locked the doors. I touched my stomach and looked to the empty passenger seat.
I needed someone with me.
I needed Logan.
Wasn’t that part of the deal?
To have someone to hold me, love me, protect me?
I started my engine and
the homeless looking man was at my car. He took out a bottle of blue liquid and squirted my windshield. He took out a dirty paper towel and wiped the cleaner around the windshield. It did nothing except add some smear streaks that I’d clean on my own with my wipers.
When he finished, he stared at me.
He wanted money.
Of course he wanted money.
He was fucking homeless.
I wanted to hate the man, but what did I know about him? What path in life took him here? Maybe it was just bad luck. Maybe it was just one bad decision.
I opened my change compartment and grabbed a dollar. I rolled down my window and handed it to him. His blackened fingers took the dollar and he shook his fist, smiling, showing me half his teeth were missing, the other half rotten.
“God bless you, ma’am,” he said. “Bless, bless, bless…”
I rolled up my window and felt tears coming again.
I drove back to the apartment and the second Maggie saw me, she knew something was going through my head.
“What happened?”
“I’m pregnant and I gave a homeless guy a dollar,” I said. “That sums up my fucking morning.”
“You… wait, what?”
I was at my closest. I opened the door and started grabbing some clothes. Shirts, hoodies, jeans, whatever. I grabbed a neon purple gym bag and started packing.
“Annie…”
“Come for a ride with me,” I said.
“A ride? What are you doing?”
I looked at her.
Did I really need to say a word?
“No,” she said. “Annie…”
“I’m not going to leave him,” I said. “Even if he doesn’t want me there. I’m going.”
Ten minutes later I was in my car. I told Maggie I’d give her three minutes, two of which were already gone. One minute and I was leaving. I’d find my way to Logan’s hometown and I’d find him. Even if I didn’t say a word to him, I’d be there. I’d stand at the funeral and be there. I didn’t care what his past was about. What his father did or didn’t do. How his mother may have neglected him. How the only person who cared for him was about to be put into the ground.
None of it mattered and he needed to know that.
I put the car in reverse and Maggie came out of the apartment building holding a bag. She got in the car and showed me her phone.
