by M. J. Fields
One of my favorite kisses was when we were both laughing and kissing and laughing at something stupid Mitch said that landed him at the starting line again.
He gave me a best kisser award after the first time he came in his boxers. He felt uncomfortable about it, and then after that, he didn’t give a damn. He told me he missed out on dry humping altogether and lost his virginity at fifteen. Fifteen! And that making out with me was better than any sex he’s ever had. I told him it was because it was me, and he didn’t disagree. If he had, I would have known he was lying.
For his graduation with his bachelors in civil engineering, I gave him a mug that said Engineer, because Badass miracle worker isn’t a job. I also gave him a card. It was a pop-up card with the letter V. He asked when it expired, and I told him I would let him know when it got close. I gave him some other things, too, but that was what he seemed focused on.
Sitting in my window, covered with the white faux fur blanket Logan gave me the last night I stayed with him before the semester ended, drinking from the cup that says Cuddle Season, listening to the song that reminds me of us, Too Much To Ask, by Niall Horan on repeat I watch the snow fall.
I refuse to regret any of our time together. I safe guarded my heart, and his with conditions so they wouldn’t break. But when I listen to this, I know I could easily give in to something more, something unconditional.
Love.
But ironically, that season has ended and we made promises and conditions. I can’t break a promise, without breaking my own heart.
Logan is in New York with his dad, and from what I understand, Ava is coming home with them.
I know this, not because I heard my family talk about it, but because we message each other nonsense every morning and every night.
We promised no assumptions, so the texts are totally ridiculous, and quite honestly, would be viewed as meaningless, yet they are not at all. They mean, I am your friend, and I am thinking about you. They mean everything.
They are the bright start to my morning, and the goodnight kiss before bed.
We saw each other at Christmas and hugged for probably too long, yet it didn’t seem long enough.
We saw each other on New Year’s Eve, and we made out in Piper’s closet for an hour.
We saw each other the day before he left for New York again after the new Year. He told his father it was to meet up with some buddies. He told me the truth. He was going to confront his mother. To tell her to step up when it came to Ava or lose him completely. I told him he shouldn’t be so definitive about it. He told me I shouldn’t be so damn smart. Regardless, he would not promise me like I wanted, that he would say goodbye in a way that wasn’t hurtful.
Our kiss was quicker, less needy, and at the time, I thought there was hope for a possible future because of it. That, that was the last time I saw him. It was almost three weeks ago.
Tomorrow, I go back to school, and I do it a changed woman because of him.
Three Days Later
Christy laughs. “I can’t believe Fletcher still won’t come out with us.”
“Did you see him?” Lisa asks, wagging her eyebrows. “Man got jacked-up over break.”
“Jacked.” Jamie laughs. “Just jacked.”
“What do you think, Elle?”
“I’ve always though Fletcher was hot.”
When they all go mute, I look at them and roll my eyes. “Logan was hotter but, you know, eventually, even the hottest flames burn out.”
“So, there’s nothing between you two?” Christy asks.
“We’ll always be friends, and that’s what we agreed on to begin with.”
“Mr. Links and you have a contract?” Lisa jokes.
I nod. “Verbal.”
Jamie smirks. “Was it binding?”
“If you must know, I gave him my V card.”
“Oh, my God, and you didn’t tell us!” Jamie squeals.
I open my phone and scroll through the pictures, finding the one of him holding it up. When I show them, they laugh.
“Has he tried to cash it in?”
I shake my head.
Lisa smirks mischievously. “What will you do when he does?”
“If he does,” I correct.
“What if you and Fletcher Reeves are in a relationship when he hands it to you?”
Wrong idea telling them Fletcher asked me out.
“I’d probably ask him if we could have a threesome,” I joke.
“Logan would flip shit!” Jamie claps her hands together and starts pretend-boxing.
“Doesn’t that bother you? His violent tendencies?” Lisa asks.
“No. As sad as it sounds, it kind of makes him hotter.”
“How is that hot?” Christy scoffs.
“Knowing a man can kick an ass if necessary, totally hot.”
Inside Chaos, a new club that opened a few miles outside the city, it is hopping.
After we are ID’d and I am no longer an anxious mess, we walk up to the bar.
“Let’s do sophisticated.”
I laugh. “As opposed to fall semester and gasoline shots?”
Christy puts her nose in the air. “Yes, we’re classy in the new year.”
“Or, at least we can try.” Jamie laughs.
With Cosmos in our hands, we walk out on to the dance floor and commence getting down.
When I see Downs walk in, I stare at the door and wait for someone I know won’t be here.
Jamie nudges me. “That was so last semester.”
I nudge her back. “You’re right. This semester is all new.”
Unable to look away from the door, I see Jones, the guy Logan popped in the nose then told the Giants’ recruiter about, walk in. I smile, thinking that, although Logan might not see it, he’s pretty amazing, and not just on the field and between the sheets.
“Next round’s on me,” I yell while walking toward the bar. It’s three people deep, so I know I will be waiting awhile.
“Hey,” I hear and look over my shoulder.
“Hey.” I nod to Jones.
“You’re Links’ girl.” He winks.
I nod. “We’re friends.”
“You see him still?”
I shake my head.
“In contact with him at all?”
I shrug.
“It’s a yes or no question.” He chuckles. “If you say yes, I want you to tell him that I’m signing with the Giants and would love for you to thank him for me.”
I beam. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Not gonna lie, he made it happen. You think it’s because he fucked up my nose that night?”
I laugh and shake my head.
“Yeah, me neither.” He grins. “If you said no, I would love to take you out to dinner some night.”
I glance around and hear him laugh.
“I’m talking to you, and no, he’s not gonna pop outta nowhere and try to kick my ass.”
“Just dinner?”
He smiles brightly. “I’m one of the good guys.”
I laugh. “That’s what they all say.”
“Yeah, but ninety percent are saying it to get in your pants. I’m the ten percent who simply thinks you’re beautiful and cool to be around.”
“So, as friends?”
This question causes him to pause and think. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”
“Then sure.”
“Really?”
I nod. “Absolutely.”
He reaches over my head and hands the bartender some money. “I got hers, too.”
“No, it’s cool. I’m getting my friends drinks, too.”
“Get them all,” he tells the bartender.
“Well, damn, baller.” I giggle.
“You do know that’s a hoops term, right?”
Logan.
“Yeah, I heard that somewhere.”
Jones helps carry the drinks out to the dance floor. When they see him, they all laugh. He does, too.
“No r
epeats, ladies.”
“Cheers to that.” Jamie raises her glass.
Mitch and Jamie, now there’s a story. They split the last day of classes. Her idea. He has texted, called, been at our door, and she has denied him every time.
We are all dancing to “Feel it Still” by Portugal, the man, when Jones holds up his empty glass and asks, “You girls want another?”
“I’ll get this round,” I yell back to him.
“Hell no, JJ don’t play that way.” He winks.
“JJ isn’t on a date. L—” I pause when I almost say my real initials. “I got this.”
The dance floor is packed, which means the bar isn’t as crowded.
I look toward the door and see a man looking at me. He looks out of place. His clothes are hanging off him and he looks nervous.
I smile at him. “Hi.”
He stares blankly at me.
And...that’s the last time I try to brighten a stranger’s day.
When I feel his eyes on me, I smile at him again, but again, he looks away. Okay, for real this time, I’m totally not going to do that again.
With my drinks in hand, I feel him looking at me again. I can’t help it. I smile. This time, he tries.
Poor guy, I think as I walk to the dance floor, concentrating on not spilling the drinks.
We are dancing when I notice Jamie glance at the door.
I lean over. “Repeat after me. I, Jamie.”
“I, Jamie.”
“Do solemnly swear.”
“Do solemnly swear.”
“That I will not.”
“That I will not.”
“Drunk dial Mitch tonight.”
“Drunk dial a bitch tonight.”
We all laugh as the song turns to a slow one.
Afraid Jones will ask me to dance, I throw back my drink and yell to the girls, “Bathroom break!”
We weave our way through the crowd and end up at the end of a line.
Christy starts wiggling around. “I didn’t have to pee, but now I do.”
“You should totally fake that you’re going to throw up again.” Jamie laughs.
“That’s strictly for emergency situations only.”
“Well, what happens after I piss my pants?”
“Then you won’t be doing that stupid dance anymore.” Lisa laughs.
I hear Christy groan from the stall when she finally gets in. “This is better than sex.”
Lisa, Jamie, and I laugh as we fix our hair and touch up our gloss.
The music stops, and we hear a crack and a thump.
“Are there fireworks up in here?” Christy asks as she walks out of the stall.
Crack, thump, crack, thump, and then screams.
Lisa begins to shake. “What the hell is going on?”
I look around and spot a window.
I move the trash can and climb on it. I try to open it, but the lock sticks. I can’t hear anything, but I know what the sounds are. They are gunshots. They are gunshots, and they are in the bar.
I pull my sweater off, wrap it around my arm, and hit the window as hard as I can.
“Shut up!” I yell when I hear them begin to scream again. “Shut up!”
When people begin running into the bathroom, I yell to them to come. Lisa is first. I grab her arms and pull her up the trash can. It shakes, and I’m afraid I may fall. When she’s through the window, I grab for Jamie.
“Go!”
Christy is next, and when she is halfway out, she screams, “Come on!”
The trash can falls while I keep screaming, “Shut up and go. Shut up and go.”
We hear the screams, the gunshots, the mayhem going on outside of the bathroom, but by the grace of God, we are given time to help people escape.
We have a system, me and another woman are helping the others out. As the gunshots get closer and louder, the distance between the cracks and the thumps nearly on top of each other, we can’t keep up anymore. People are climbing over one another, pushing each other, and then I am pinned against the wall. I swear I can hear Lisa screaming.
When the door swings open, I cover my face and pray.
The screams are horrific and nauseating, and when the woman in front of me, the one who was helping me, steps forward and begins to beg, he shoots her. She falls, knocking me to the ground. Then I hear no more screams, only gurgles, and I smell blood, and copper, and...death. I smell death.
I throw up as I try to move her, but then I hear a huge crashing noise, and then more gunfire. That’s when I simply lie in blood and wait to die.
The door opens, and I whimper. Next thing I know, the weight of her body is thrown off me.
“Please don’t,” I beg.
“It’s okay. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
I’m dead, and I’m hearing Logan.
I need to open my eyes to see Heaven, see Dad, see...
I open my eyes when he pulls me up. “Logan!”
“Shhh...shh...shh...shh...” he says, pulling me toward the door.
“No, no, not out there.” I look back at the window and see a pile of bodies.
He yanks me. We are in the hall, and more shots are fired. He pulls me forward and wraps his arms around me.
“We’re gonna die.”
“The fuck we are.”
Logan kicks a door to a storage closet open. Then he pushes me inside and shuts the door behind him. “Get over there, under that stairway. London, go!”
“I wanna stay with you.”
“Do what the fuck I said now!” He starts moving cabinets. “Right fucking now!”
Shaking, I climb under the enclosed staircase as he pulls a cabinet in front of the partial opening, and then another. He climbs in through the small opening and pushes with all he is to the wall. Then he turns and looks at me.
“Did you get hit?”
I shake my head.
“That’s good. That’s really fucking good.” He grabs the back of my head and pulls it into his chest.
More gunshots go off, and I scream. He covers my mouth with his hand.
“You gotta shut the fuck up, okay? If you don’t, he’s gonna know we’re in here. You can’t scream, London, you can’t.” He uncovers my mouth, and I gasp for air.
“I need...” I gasp. “I need out.”
“We’ll get out soon. We will, I swear.”
“Can’t breathe.” I try to take a deep breath, but I can’t get one.
He puts his lips on my forehead. “You better, London. I didn’t fly all the way in from New York, drive through a fucking building, and get shot at, just to have you stop breathing.”
“Why?” I pant.
“Don’t you already know the answer to that?”
I take a deep breath.
“That’s it.” He pushes my hair back. “Keep doing that. Keep breathing.”
I take another, and another.
“Hey, London?”
“What?”
“You look pretty.”
I wrap my arms around him and cry.
“Shhh...I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Breaking Point
London
“Do we love each other?”
For the first time in the midst of all the chaos surrounding us, he looks scared as he grabs the back of my head and pulls me back to his chest.
His breaths have become deeper, slower, but less steady. His heart, though, goes against his fight for control. It’s hurried against my ear, beating the answer to my bold but needed question. One I don’t even need to know the answer to, because I already know.
“Yeah, yeah, I think we do.”
“I’m scared, Logan.”
“It’s understandable, London. There’s a lot going on, and—”
“No, I’m scared to love you.”
He doesn’t say anything, not a word, but he takes a deep breath. In that moment, I am sure he is going to tell me not to be afraid. I need him to tell me not to be afraid.
“I would be, too.”
I glance up at him. His eyes are closed, and his head is resting against the brick wall behind him.
“The shit doesn’t last, London. Love, it just doesn’t last.”
“It can,” I say, feeling a totally different type of fear creep in.
He grips my head a little harder as he pulls it tighter to his chest.
Silence surrounds us, and so does the realization that people are dead, and I am trapped. Not in a car this time, but in a tiny storage room under a set of stairs.
Silence surrounds us, and so does the realization that people are hurt, and I am unable to help them, because I am hidden, and not in a wine cellar tunnel this time with Lexington, but in this tiny fucking room with Logan.
I feel my chest tighten, and my breaths come harder again. My lungs are tighter. Oh God, I am going to have another panic attack.
Logan cups my chin and holds my head up so I have to look into his blue eyes. “Breathe, London, and fucking listen to me.”
I nod vigorously as I seek solace in the eyes of the man who I know loves me. I seek oxygen in them, safety in them, and I get something I haven’t ever seen.
It is near blinding, yet I can’t look away. It’s the tunnel and the light you know you aren’t supposed to follow, but God, I want to follow it.
Love, I see love, and it is breathtakingly beautiful.
“My love comes with conditions.”
When I am able to speak, I tell him, “It’s supposed to be unconditional.”
He shakes his head, and then I hear a shot fired.
“Oh, God...”
He covers my mouth again. “First condition, you fucking listen to me. I’m never going to tell you not to do something because I’m trying to control you or hold you back.”
I nod.
“Now, you can’t scream, okay, London? You can’t, because you do and that fucker comes in here, I’m gonna take a bullet to make sure you don’t.”
“Because you love me?”
He shrugs then nods. “Because I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you while I’m around.”
I nod, and then another shot is fired.
