by Jay McLean
I nodded.
What else was I going to do?
***
I was outside on the back deck having a smoke when Lucy walked out. I don't smoke often. Actually, I barely do. Just when I drink. I don't even know why I do it; it's a shitty habit.
Lucy walked out in her pajamas. Purple with pink hearts, like she's 10 or something.
She waved her hand in front of her face to clear the smoke and exaggerated a cough. She pulled the cigarette out from between my fingers and put it out on the railing, then threw it in the bushes in front of us.
"Smoking kills, you know that right?" she said.
I looked away. Lucy's mom died of lung cancer a few years back. I stayed quiet.
"You know how Cam and I met?" she asked out of nowhere.
I leaned my elbows on the rail and looked out to the yard. "Kind of." I shrugged.
She stood next to me and copied my position.
"Cam used to help coach Lincoln and Liam's little league team."
"Yeah." I knew that much.
"Yeah, it was a few years back, before Mom died." Her voice ended in a whisper.
She sniffed once. I don't know if she was crying, or about to, but I didn't look at her. "After Mom died, Cam just started coming around to the house. Every day after school he was there, helping out however he could. I mean, he must've known that we'd be struggling. The first few months without Mom were devastating. Dad—he could barely get up in the mornings. I don't know how Cam knew, but he was just there. He pretty much raised the boys the first few months. I mean, I was there too, but so was he..." She stopped to catch her breath and wipe the tears that had developed. "To this day, I don't know why he was. I've asked him a couple times. He just shrugs, and says he just wanted to help. I don't even know when we became a couple. One night we were washing the dishes and he just kissed me, and that was it. For the first few months he was there every night, helping me with the boys. Eventually Dad snapped out of the funk and became a dad again...and Cameron and I... we became an us."
"Cameron's good people, huh?"
"The best," she agreed.
"So what's up? Why are you telling me this?"
"Because. I don't—I just think you should know, that even though he acts like an asshole, and he's crude and obnoxious sometimes, he really is a good guy, and I love him. He's kind of like you, Logan. And one day, you'll find someone that loves you as much as I love him."
I faced her, our eyes locked for the longest time. Then I shook my head, thinking about what happened with Amanda. "I don't think that's going to happen, Luce."
She was quiet for what seemed like years, staring at me. Then a smile broke through. "You don't remember me, do you?"
I looked at her and panicked. This wasn't the first time this had happened. I blew out a breath and looked away from her. I was too embarrassed to face her when we talked about this shit.
"Lucy, I'm sorry. Did I promise to call you? I didn't pop your cherry did I?" I grimaced.
"WHAT!" she gasped. "Ew, that's gross. Yuck, Logan!" She pushed my chest with both her hands.
I fell back a step. "Shit, Lucy. Don't be that disgusted. I'm not the worst guy in the world to take your V card." I smirked.
"EW!" she screamed again.
I was all out laughing.
She exaggerated a shudder then calmed herself down. "When we were freshman, I was reading a book under a tree in the quad," she said. "I was a loner back then. These juniors—they came up and started picking on me. Two girls and two guys. They grabbed the book from my hands and were being assholes, throwing it between each other. Like we were in fucking grade school, and they were the bullies. I was mortified, Logan. I felt so stupid and...belittled."
"I'm sorry, Lucy." I told her. It was the truth. I fucking hate bullies and anyone that thought it was okay to treat people like shit.
"I know, Logan. I know because you walked up and stood in front of me, shielding me from them. You started yelling at them to give it back. I didn't even know you and you were there. You were big for a freshman. I mean, you've always been big. You were bigger than both those junior boys combined. They gave it back straight away and you handed it to me. You made them apologize to me before they left. Then you made sure I was okay before you just walked away, like what you did wasn't a big deal."
"Huh." I didn't know else to say.
"You don't remember?"
I shrugged. "Sorry, Lucy...I guess I don't."
She smiled. "That night I baked you cookies and left them on your desk in homeroom the next morning."
It began to come back to me—the memory. But I don’t remember that it was Lucy.
She kept talking, "I watched you as you walked into the room and saw them sitting there. This huge smile on your face. You opened them, ate one, and gave the rest to Skinny Pete."
Now I remembered.
"Why did you do that, Logan? Give them to Skinny Pete, I mean?"
I shrugged and turned away from her.
She gripped my upper arm and forced me to face her.
"Why?" she asked again.
"Everyone knows that Skinny Pete's family were poor and he barely ate." I shrugged again.
She laughed once. "I had the biggest crush on you for like, months after that day," she said, shaking her head. "You're not such an asshole, Logan. You're one of the best guys I know. Actually, you're the best guy I know that I'm not screwing." She chuckled to herself. "One day, you're going to meet that girl that's going to make you want to be with them. And she's going to be so Goddamn lucky, I swear it."
I stayed silent. Because the thing is, I think I already have.
Lucy sighed, leaned up on her toes and kissed my cheek. "Quit smoking, Logan. I don't want to lose you, too," she said, before turning to go back inside. I grabbed her arm to stop her and pulled her to me. I held her. She held me back. I don't know how long we stood, holding on to each other, when she finally pulled away and looked up at me.
I kissed her on the top of her head. "It's the last one I'll ever have, swear it."
It was.
FIFTEEN
Logan
I woke up the next morning before everyone else and left Jake and Micky's. I got in my car and drove the short distance to my frat house.
When I got up to my room, all my shit was everywhere.
Clothes were thrown all over the place, my mattress was up against a wall. My computer and stereo system had been smashed to pieces.
What the fuck?
Adam, the president of the house walked into my room.
"You're out," he deadpanned.
"What the fuck?"
"I'm sorry, dude. I like you; you're a good guy. But I don't have any sisters. It's been decided. We had a meeting. You're out."
This had to be a fucking joke. "You're kidding right?" He had to be. "Where the hell am I going to live?"
He shrugged.
Fuck.
It was early enough that the rest of the house was still sleeping. Luckily for me, it wasn't too embarrassing.
Once I was in my car, I just sat there.
Where the fuck was I going to go?
Without me realizing it, I started taking the two-hour drive home.
I needed the stable sanity of my own house at the moment. The events of the last few days had worn me out.
I texted Jake and told him what happened. I asked him to get feelers out, see if anyone knew of anywhere I could live. If anyone had connections, it was Jake Andrews.
By the time I got home, I was beginning to feel the lack of sleep mixed with the hangover and just wanted to crash.
I went into the kitchen where Dad was sitting at the counter, eating. It was rare for him to be home on a weekend.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.
"Thanks. Nice to see you too," I joked. I got a soda out of the fridge and sat down on the counter with him.
"You look—uh...good?" he said, a smile pulling at his lips.
"I had a rough night."
He nodded.
It was silent for a few minutes.
Then I said, "I need to talk to you-" the same time he said, "We need to talk-"
We both laughed.
"You go first," I told him.
"Have you spoken to Nathan?"
I shrugged. "Kind of. You know what's happening?"
"Your mother's been asking around for you," He eyed me, waiting for my reaction.
"Huh. That's funny. Last I checked I had no mother." I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to push the issue. He wanted me to say something more. But I didn't. I had nothing more to say.
Finally, he nodded once. "So you had something to tell me."
Shit. I played it out in my head—the words I would use to tell him. But now that I was here, I felt like an idiot. So I decide to just say, "I got kicked out of the frat house."
I wanted him to yell. To tell me he was disappointed. Something. Anything. But he didn't. Instead, he just smiled, "Do I want to know why?"
I shook my head.
"So what happens now?"
I blew out a breath, "I guess I have to find somewhere else to live. I'll get a job there. I could probab-"
"No, Logan." He cut me off. "You can't work with the course load you're taking on. That, plus baseball. No. Just find a place and use the money we have saved."
"You have saved. It's not really fair."
"Logan. Use the money in the account. I keep putting it in there and you never use it. It's there for a reason. Use it." He paused, eyeing me. "And it is fair. You're my son. It's what I do."
I looked away. Because I'm not his son. Not really.
Just then, I got a message from Jake. Apparently one of the guys on the team knows a guy, that knows a guy, that has a spare room. He's desperate for someone to move in ASAP.
Hopefully my luck would change because the last few days had been a clusterfuck of Screw-You-Logan disasters.
I texted the guy who's house it was and told him I'll come by later that evening. I hoped to God it wasn’t a shit hole. But right now, I'd fucking take anything.
I spent a few hours with Dad, and slept some, before taking the two-hour drive back towards campus.
***
I parked outside the house and looked at it a moment before getting out. From the outside, it looked like a standard house. No abandoned cars, no junkies, no odors of meth labs, and no hookers in the front yard. I thought I was safe.
A kid around my age opened the door. We did our introductions and he invited me in. Ethan, his name was.
The house itself was basic. Living room with separate kitchen/dining area, but had an open breakfast bar. There was a hallway to the left where I assumed the bedrooms were. He showed me around the main areas and then walked down the hall.
"So," he started, "The rooms on the left are mine and Dimmy's. We share a bathroom."
"Dimmy?"
"My sister," he said. Then he looks me up and down. "Goes without saying, she's off limits."
I nodded, looking at him a little longer than I should. But he looked familiar and I couldn't place him. So I asked him, "Have I seen you around before? You play anything?" He had an athletic build.
He shook his head. "Nah, man. I was good in high school, but not good enough for college. I was one of those 'good-at-everything-but-not-great-at-any' kind of guys, you know?"
"Yeah, I get it."
"Anyway," he perked up, "this room here," he opened the door, "this is yours. I guess you could call it the master. It's the biggest one, has its own bathroom and little outdoor area. It's more rent than what we pay but you get that. Dimmy and I—we're kind of struggling at the moment, so as soon as you can move in—if you want to move in, that is—the better for us."
I walked into the empty room and looked around, then walked into the bathroom and did the same. It was more than decent.
I walked back to the hallway where Ethan stood. “I can move in right now." I told him. Anything that was worth packing was already in my car.
"Awesome, dude."
We shook hands and started walking to the front door.
"Uh, Logan?" Ethan said from behind me.
I turned to face him.
He rubbed the back of his neck, looking nervous. "So, when I said that Dimmy and I were struggling—I wasn't kidding. I mean, she has a job, and so do I, but we need more hours. Anyway, we're a little behind—"
"Dude," I interrupted. "Whatever you need, man. It's fine. Just let me know."
He smiled and nodded, just as I heard the front door swing open. Ethan's voice filled the room. "Oh good, Dimmy. You're home. You can meet our new housemate, this is—"
"No. Fucking. Way." I heard a familiar voice.
I whipped my head to the front door, so fast I almost pull a muscle in my neck.
"No fucking way." She repeated, her head shaking from side to side. She looked from me to Ethan. "No E, no fucking way."
"What the hell?" Ethan said behind me. He walked to stand between us.
I think I was smiling, but I couldn't be sure. My heart thumped in my chest so hard, and so fast, I could feel it vibrating throughout my body.
"No, Ethan. Just no," she said.
Ethan looked from her to me, and back again. "We need the money Dimmy, it's either that or one of us go home. You decide."
Now I know I was grinning like an idiot because she was glaring at me, eyes narrowed.
My hands went in my front pockets as I took her in.
Amanda.
My eyes roamed her from head to toe. Her dark hair was up in one of those messy bun things, and she was wearing glasses. I didn't know she wore glasses, or contacts. They're those thick black frame hipster style ones, and they make her look fucking hot. She wore a tight long sleeve top that molded to her curves. She carried a yoga mat under her arm, and when my eyes moved lower down her body, I saw it.
She was wearing my sweatpants.
My cheeks began to hurt from the shit-eating grin I wore.
"Nice pants," I told her.
She looked confused for a second before she looked down. Her eyes widened as understanding dawned.
Then quickly, she threw the yoga mat onto the floor and ripped my pants off her legs. She stood in the living room in her top and panties.
I was getting turned on.
Pretty sure I'd be on her if her brother wasn't standing in between us.
"Fuck, Dimmy!" he yelled, eyes squeezed tight. He moved to the kitchen and ran the tap.
She threw the pants at my head and I instinctively caught them. She brushed past me and into her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
I looked to Ethan in the kitchen, he had the water running, his head under it, letting it flow into his eyes, like he was actually washing away the memory of what he'd just witnessed. "You need to fucking warn me when you do shit like that," he was yelling. I don't think he knew she wasn't here anymore. "I shouldn't have to see that shit."
I couldn't help but laugh. "Dude, she's gone."
He opened one eye and surveyed the room. When he knew it was safe, he opened the other. 'What the hell was that about?"
I shrugged. "Don't know. Your sister's obviously crazy." Lie.
"Don't let it deter you from moving in," he said, pointing at me. "You already agreed. Plus, she's not so bad. She stays in her room mostly."
He grabbed the keys off the hooks near the front door and slipped on his shoes. "I'm going to the store. You need anything?"
I shook my head.
Then he was out the door. And I stood in the living room of my new house.
One I shared with Amanda.
Amanda
After last night's embarrassing outburst I just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide out for, oh, I don't know, the rest of my existence. Give or take.
; I know that it was just one night with him, and I know that it really shouldn't have broken my heart, but guess what? It did. And I've learnt to live with that.
Not seeing him for a year helped, I was over it.
I knew that going to college meant the occasional run in with him, especially since I was getting closer to Micky through Facebook, and once I got here and met Lucy, it was kind of inevitable. I was doing so well avoiding him, making sure that wherever I was, he wasn't. I'd even hung out with them in group situations when I knew he'd gone home for the weekend or had other things on. I made sure of it.
Yes, I could have given up their friendships, but I didn't want to. And really, I shouldn't have to.
So every day since I got here I was mentally self-fiving myself because I hadn't yet run in to him. It doesn't seem like a big deal, huge campus and all, but if you knew Logan Matthews, then you'd know the enormity of his presence alone.
Until that day in the library.
And when I saw him, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.
Not because I didn't expect to see him, because I knew I would eventually.
It was because I wasn't ready for all the emotions that would come with physically being around him.
It was like everything I had felt over the last year, but all at once. And it hurt. It was too much. I couldn't even look at him. And when Micky had asked if we'd met before, I lied.
I lied because I wanted to see if I could hurt him. If me playing dumb would have an effect on him. If he would feel anything to know, or at least think, that I didn't remember him. That it was just another night, and he was just another guy.
And I really didn't want to rehash the circumstances to which we met. At least, that's what I told myself.
But the truth? The truth is that I wanted to keep the memory of that night to myself. I didn't want to share it with anybody.
Because it was mine.
And because it was the best night of my entire life.
***
The last thing I expected to see when I came home tonight was him standing in my living room.
