Half-Truths

by Claire Contreras

  This was Logan, for God’s sake. When he reached us, people pounded on the glass. I stood closer to it and snapped, snapped, snapped. I didn’t want to miss him if he went by really fast. Suddenly, it seemed almost quiet, as if the crowd around me was waiting in anticipation of something. When I blinked into the little window of the camera, I saw his face right in front of me, staring into the lens—into me. I licked my lips, and he grinned, a slow, sexy grin that made his green eyes sparkle with mischief. He knew I was flustered. I lowered the camera but kept my finger on the button in case he did anything film-worthy. He nodded at me. I smiled, shaking my head. What was he doing? And then he did something I would have never expected in a million years. While holding my gaze from the other side of the glass, he opened his hand and kissed his palm.

  It happened in an instant. So quickly I was sure nobody really caught it, but I did, because it was clearly for me. I smiled wide, resisting the urge to throw the camera down and walk onto the ice to jump on him. He winked and skated away.

  “Well, I guess you can say you definitely don’t have issues anymore,” Max said. “What was that kiss thing?”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head, still smiling.

  I stayed for another hour and from the looks of it, the other people weren’t leaving any time soon either. Logan and his team were working on some drills with no signs of stopping. Glancing at my watch, I saw that it was almost seven thirty and started packing up. There was no way the paper would need more pictures than what I took. The announcer said they were finished with the pep rally shortly after I packed up and the guys skated off the ice. I walked with Max to the general area of the rink, standing off to the side as the crowd of people walked by us waving their Fitz Mitt. Max stopped a couple of them and interviewed them for the paper. They all gushed about their golden boy, Fitz, and mentioned they’d driven down for this and would drive down again for games. When they walked away, I turned to Max, who was making sure he’d jotted down the notes.

  “That really is impressive.”

  “What? That they travel to see him?”

  “Yeah.” I nodded.

  “I told you. He’s a legend.”

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about dating a legend. Old insecurities started to bubble as I thought about it. How would I deal with all of the attention? Would I be able to handle all of the girls that constantly clung to him? Would he really not pay attention to them? With Travis, it was a gamble I was willing to take because even when we were “on” I didn’t feel this lost in him. With Logan, I felt like I was on a completely different playing field. Yet, Logan hadn’t ever given me a reason to doubt him. Not yet anyway. We’d been friends for a while now and I hadn’t seen him so much as look at another girl when I was around. I needed to trust he meant it when he said he wanted to be with me. Besides, he’d called me his girlfriend.

  “Why are you so smiley?” Max asked.

  “I can’t smile?”

  “You normally don’t unless I’m saying something funny, and then I think you may just look amused for my sake.” He smiled. My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. I pushed him playfully. “Uh-oh, Mae has a secret,” he said.

  “What secret?” The voice came from Logan. Some people swarmed him when they saw him. He was wearing a team t-shirt and jeans, his gaze on me as he smiled for his fans. “I just have to . . . “

  I waved him away. “I’ll be right here.”

  “Holy shit,” Max breathed. “You could’ve given me a warning.”

  “A warning about what?”

  “You and Fitz are a thing.”

  “Her and Fitz are dating,” Logan said loud and clear. Some of the people waiting for a picture gasped and directed their camera toward me.

  “Eyes on him. I suck on the ice.” I blocked my face. “I’m just here for moral support.”

  They laughed, but obeyed my wishes and kept their attention on him.

  “You think you can handle all of this?” Max whispered.

  I shot him a look. Logan had the best hearing out of anyone I’d ever met. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear him right now. I looked over at him and he was talking to a guy so I figured it was fine to talk about this to Max quietly.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’ll be hard. This is nothing.” Max pointed to the small crowd. “This will get worse when he goes pro.”

  “I know.” I looked on at Logan.

  It was too soon to tell what would happen between us, but as far as his career went, I was completely content with cheering him on from the sidelines. I knew that meant seeing episodes like this, where some girls didn’t seem to get a clue and touched all up on him even after he made it clear he wasn’t available, but I was oddly okay with it. Maybe it was because his eyes continuously found mine and reassured me that he belonged to me and that was enough to accept the madness.

  “I hope he treats you right, Mae.” Max put his hand on my arm. “You deserve it.”

  “Paper Boy,” Logan called out. “Hands off my girl please.”

  “The fact that all of that is going on and his attention is still on your surroundings speaks volumes.” Max dropped his hand with a blush. He chuckled. “Maybe this is different after all.”

  His words made me smile. Max had been around Logan long enough to know what he was normally like around women. I gave him a hug as he said goodbye. Once the small crowd finally dissipated around Logan, he walked over to me. The anticipation of that walk was killer, as he ran his fingers through his hair, not taking his eyes off mine. His swagger was normally pretty high up in the charts, but his swagger tonight seemed to be on ten thousand.

  “Was he trying to make a move on you?”

  “No.” I rolled my eyes, fighting a smile. “Unlike your harem.”

  “I don’t have a harem.” He wrapped a hand behind my neck and reached down and kissed me. “I have you.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Logan and I were sitting on my couch, watching Seinfeld reruns when we got a text saying the camping trip was postponed a couple of days. It seemed like they were all walking on eggshells because The Swords were still not finished with their hazing process and nobody wanted to see what that process entailed.

  “Plausible deniability,” Logan said when I asked him about it. “If you don’t like to get shit on your shoes, you don’t step in it.”

  “But aren’t you curious?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Do they know about your hazing?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Our hazing isn’t bad though.”

  “Walking around knives isn’t bad? Stealing shit isn’t bad?” I asked. “Did they ever find out we stole that painting from them?”

  “Not yet.” He chuckled. “When they figure it out, they’ll come knocking. Until then, they’re too busy with their weird little seances.”

  “So you do know what goes on over there.” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Some, but honestly, Mae? After walking into one of their weird meetings by mistake . . . ” He shook his head. “If you think what your dad and the other guys from that class are doing is sick, you don’t want to know what The Swords are up to.”

  His words made a shiver roll through me. They’d said they were grave diggers and experimented on cadavers. Maybe I didn’t want to know what they were up to after all. I checked my phone and saw a text that hadn’t been there when I’d checked it ten minutes ago.

  Mom: he’s awake. He’s asking for you.

  Me: I’ll be there as soon as I can

  I turned to Logan. “Lincoln’s awake. I have to go home.”

  “I’ll drive you.” He sat up quickly, brushing a hand over his hair before replacing the backward red and gold Toronto Raptors cap he had on.

  It would take us four and a half hours if we drove. While I walked over to my room to pack a few things, I sent a text to my dad’s pilot friend in case he was in town and the private jet he normally flew for dad’s other friend was
in the hangar. I set my phone down to focus. Logan called out that he was going to his apartment to get an overnight bag of his own. The text message from Manuel, the pilot, came back quickly.

  Manuel Ramos: I’m here. The city again?

  Me: PLEASE. DAD WILL PAY YOU AND I’LL BAKE YOU COOKIES.

  Manuel Ramos: I’ll pass on the cookies. No offense (last ones you made were pretty bad)

  Me: LOL THANKS.

  Manuel Ramos: I just brought your dad over here, but he’s taking another plane back, so I was going to head out in 40min. Can you be here by then?

  Me: Leaving in like 10.

  My dad was in town? And he hadn’t called? I wondered how often he did that. I wondered if he was here to see Ella. Still. You would think he would at least want to say hello to his daughter. I shook the thought away and finished packing, locked up, and ran to Logan’s apartment. He was stepping back out as I reached it. His brows rose.

  “What happened?”

  “We have a flight to catch in 40min.” I took a deep breath and let it out.

  “You booked a flight?” He was looking at me like I’d lost my marbles. I had.

  “Private flight. Long story. I’ll explain on the way there. I’m sure we can jump on one coming back. This family travels every three days, I’m not even exaggerating.”

  “What the hell family is this?” he asked, still standing by his door. At least he was locking it.

  “I’ll explain in the car.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the elevator.

  “I need to be back by Monday afternoon,” he said. “I have a game at seven.”

  “You’ll be back by then, I swear. Worse case we’ll have one of the drivers bring us back.”

  “I’m so glad we didn’t meet when we were in high school.” He shook his head as we walked out of the elevator.

  I was still pulling him along as we walked into the lobby. Gary laughed when he saw us. Once we were in his truck and he started driving, I let out a breath. We’d definitely make it in time. I knew Manuel would wait for us a few minutes if he needed to, but not too long. If his boss had called him to go back to the city, he’d have to drop everything and go.

  “Why are you glad we didn’t meet in high school?” I looked at Logan as we drove away from our neighborhood.

  “Because I would’ve never dated you. Private jets? You are way out of my league.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t have even tried to date you.”

  “You?” My brows rose. “Mr. I Can Get Any Girl I Want, with the harem of girls waiting for you to drop me and pick one of them up? You think you couldn’t have gotten me to date you?”

  “Amelia.” He shot me an amused look. “I barely got you to date me now and this has been me trying my damn hardest.”

  “That’s so untrue.” I rolled my eyes, but felt myself smile at the thought that I wasn’t like his other girls. “Besides, a private jet or fancy car is not impressive. Travis was from a questionable part of town and I dated him.”

  “Can we not bring up that loser?”

  “Fine.” I reached over and threaded my fingers through his. “Thank you for coming with me.”

  “Anything for you, baby.” He brought our joined hands up and kissed the back of mine.

  “Did you have a girlfriend in high school?”

  “Yeah. For like six months, then she got tired of the attention I was getting from the other girls and dumped me for some up-and-coming rapper.”

  “Ouch.” I laughed. “So it’s not like you’re opposed to having a girlfriend?”

  “I have one right now.” He winked at me. “I’m definitely not opposed. I just don’t like the idea of wasting my time with girls I know I have no future with.”

  “This ties in with the when you know, you know thing, doesn’t it?” Butterflies swarmed my belly. This entire conversation was emotions overload yet for some reason I wanted to have it.

  “When you know, you know,” he stated, glancing over at me.

  I felt myself blush.

  By the time we reached the airport and were cleared to drive up to the parking lot beside the hangar, my nerves were shot. I was finally going to see my brother and he was finally awake and obviously aware enough to ask about me. I considered sending my older brothers a text message, but decided against it. They hadn’t communicated with me all these days while they were there, so I wasn’t going to communicate with them either. Still, the unknown was getting to me. Logan grabbed my hand as we walked and I squeezed it back, grateful for the reminder that I wasn’t alone in this.

  We small-talked with Manuel and his co-pilot and boarded the plane for our short flight. My mind was mostly elsewhere, thinking about Lincoln and my parents. I tried so hard not to think about my father because every time I did, I got flashbacks of that photo album and it made me sick. When I did take time away from my thoughts during the hour and a half flight, it was to admire the way Logan looked sitting across from me. He was reading one of the Dennis Lehane novels he borrowed from me and had rarely paused to speak. He’d mentioned that he didn’t get as much downtime to read as he’d liked, so I tried not to interrupt him. Besides, a hot dude reading was my favorite kind of distraction.

  We landed and had a car waiting for us, courtesy of my father. We went straight to one of my parent’s properties, where they’d moved Lincoln with two around-the-clock nurses and a doctor that came by every morning. My mother spared no expenses when it came to her baby boy, her favorite boy, whether she admitted that or not.

  “And here I thought the most impressive thing I’d see today was the private jet,” Logan said beside me as we drove up the path to my parent’s Hampton’s estate. “Is this where you grew up?”

  “I grew up in Mexico City. Still in a mansion, yes, but entirely different life no matter how you put it.” I chewed on the tip of my thumb. “We moved here when I started high school though and my parents bought this house when I was a junior, so yeah, I sort of grew up here.”

  “Out of my league,” he whispered.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, Fitzgerald. Your parents have money too.”

  “There’s money, and then there’s money,” he emphasized, looking at the house.

  “Money that you’ll be making very soon,” I reminded him. “Then you can buy your own mansion like this.”

  “I would never.” He scoffed. “Give me a little cottage by a lake and my girl and I’ll be happy as can be.”

  The image made me smile. I could completely picture Logan living that kind of unassuming life even after he starts making crazy money playing pro and with the athletic clothing contracts he’s bound to get. I could picture myself living like that with him. We finally arrived at the front of the house, we didn’t even wait for the driver to open the door. Logan grabbed our bags and we bolted out of the car, rushing to the front door. I hadn’t even bothered to bring my key. I was about to knock when the door opened. Mirna stood there, smiling when she saw me. I gave her a quick hug and introduced her to Logan. Mirna had been with my family since I was a kid and was more like an aunt than a housemaid.

  “Leave the bags here.” I turned to Logan as we were passing the grand staircase.

  He looked like he didn’t even know where to look. I always forgot how fancy the house was until a new person walked in and made me stop and see it for what it was—there were paintings and sculptures and marble and gold. My mother’s love of Versailles shone through this house. Logan dropped the bags carefully, as if scared he’d scratch something. I grabbed his hand and walked quickly toward the back of the house and through the doors, and then through the corridor that led to the guest house.

  “Remember that cottage I said I dreamed of?” Logan said as we approached the guest house.

  I laughed. It was the perfect cottage, or guest house, with three bedrooms, three baths, and a full kitchen. Basically, it was someone’s dream family home and my parents had it sitting in their yard. This was why I had a hard time with their charity sometimes
. They donated a lot of money and time but it was hard to be a champion for the poor and come home to this. At least that’s what I always thought. Mom didn’t see it that way. Dad always reminded me that Princess Diana had been the people’s princess and visited poor people yet lived in luxury.

  I paused in front of the door and took a deep breath, then another, trying to calm down before I walked in there. Logan let go of my hand and set it on my shoulder, squeezing. I turned the knob and pushed the door open. Mom was sitting at the dining room table, her computer opened up and her headset on. She’d been working predominantly from home and everywhere else in the world for a year now, using a program to have video meetings with her patients when she was out of town, and sometimes even making house calls when she was in.

  “She’s on a call with a patient,” I whispered, turning to Logan.

  We waved at her. She pointed toward the room Lincoln was in. She looked like she’d aged ten years these last few weeks. My heart pounded harder as we walked up to the room. The door was slightly ajar, and as I pushed it open, it revealed Lincoln on a bed, looking pale, but not nearly as frail as I envisioned. He actually looked like he’d put on some weight, his cheeks filling out. His mouth moved into a smile when he saw me, but fell quickly when he saw Logan behind me.

  “Not him.” He shook his head.

  My heart stopped beating. “He just wants to make sure you’re okay, Linc.”

  “Not him.”

  Logan sighed heavily, touching my arm. “I’ll wait for you outside.”

  I wanted to stop him. To tell him not to be ridiculous, that he was welcome wherever I was, but my brother wasn’t in a clear state of mind and I needed to respect his wishes. As I neared the bed, the nurse also took it upon herself to leave us alone. Tears pricked my eyes as I reached for him. I placed my hand on his smooth face. My handsome brother, my best friend that I almost lost for good. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much I truly missed him. How truly empty and sad living in a world without him would be. Sure, I’d made myself stay busy, but his absence was always there, waiting to greet me at the end of a long day.