Page 83
Story: Because of Logan
The sound is loaded with meaning, yet I can’t tell what she means by it.
“Hmm what?”
“I think he loves you.”
“How so?”
I’m fishing, I know. But I want to see if someone else sees it too. I want to know it's not just me making up stories in my head.
“It’s pretty clear in the way he talks to you and looks at you.”
“Elaborate.”
I wave my hand at her in a motion that sayskeep going.
River flattens a pair of jeans on the bed, wiping away any stubborn wrinkles, then folds it in half and adds it to the growing pile at the foot of the bed.
“His eyes are always following you. Like one of those weird paintings. Wherever you go, he tracks you. Kind of stalker-ish, really. It would be creepy if it wasn’t so cute. And when you walk back into the room, his eyes light up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.”
That puts a smile on my face.
“And have you noticed he’s always touching you? If you’re within arm’s reach, some part of his body will be touching yours. So, yeah, I’d say that boy is in love, and if he hasn’t said the words yet, he will soon.”
As River would say, my heart swells like Kanye West’s head. I’ve noticed how Logan is always touching me. Holding my hand, brushing a lock of hair away from my face, the tender kisses when we’re in public. And when we aren’t together, he shows he’s thinking of me with texts, phone calls, or pictures of something he saw in his day and thought I’d like. He cares. He may not have said the words, but it shows in his actions. And yet, I can’t help but be a little disappointed too. I want to hear the words. And I’m too chicken to say them first.
“Have you said it to him?”
River asks me.
I shake my head.
“That’s a negative, Ghost Rider.”
“Why the hell not, Goose?”
River picks up on myTop Gunreference, one of our favorite eighties movies.
“Goose? I’m Goose?” I say.
“Please, we both know that if anyone is Maverick, that’s me.”
Damn it! She’s right, and she knows it too.
“You do love him, right?” she asks again.
“I think I do. I think I’m halfway in love with him and just waiting for him to say the words so I can finish falling the rest of the way.”
“I don’t think you’re halfway there. I think you bottomed out already. Kaput. Splat. Flat on the ground. You’ve fallen all the way.”
I drop my notebook to the bed. There’s no way I can concentrate on studying now. River is right. I’m in love with Logan. I’ve never felt this way. Whatever stupid infatuation I had for Blake back in high school has nothing on the way I feel about Logan. And yet I can’t bring myself to say it to him.
I face-plant on the pillow next to me.
“Ugh. I am in love with him. What am I gonna do?”
My voice is muffled by the pillow, but River understands me all the same.
“Just tell him. One of you has to take the first step.”
“Hmm what?”
“I think he loves you.”
“How so?”
I’m fishing, I know. But I want to see if someone else sees it too. I want to know it's not just me making up stories in my head.
“It’s pretty clear in the way he talks to you and looks at you.”
“Elaborate.”
I wave my hand at her in a motion that sayskeep going.
River flattens a pair of jeans on the bed, wiping away any stubborn wrinkles, then folds it in half and adds it to the growing pile at the foot of the bed.
“His eyes are always following you. Like one of those weird paintings. Wherever you go, he tracks you. Kind of stalker-ish, really. It would be creepy if it wasn’t so cute. And when you walk back into the room, his eyes light up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.”
That puts a smile on my face.
“And have you noticed he’s always touching you? If you’re within arm’s reach, some part of his body will be touching yours. So, yeah, I’d say that boy is in love, and if he hasn’t said the words yet, he will soon.”
As River would say, my heart swells like Kanye West’s head. I’ve noticed how Logan is always touching me. Holding my hand, brushing a lock of hair away from my face, the tender kisses when we’re in public. And when we aren’t together, he shows he’s thinking of me with texts, phone calls, or pictures of something he saw in his day and thought I’d like. He cares. He may not have said the words, but it shows in his actions. And yet, I can’t help but be a little disappointed too. I want to hear the words. And I’m too chicken to say them first.
“Have you said it to him?”
River asks me.
I shake my head.
“That’s a negative, Ghost Rider.”
“Why the hell not, Goose?”
River picks up on myTop Gunreference, one of our favorite eighties movies.
“Goose? I’m Goose?” I say.
“Please, we both know that if anyone is Maverick, that’s me.”
Damn it! She’s right, and she knows it too.
“You do love him, right?” she asks again.
“I think I do. I think I’m halfway in love with him and just waiting for him to say the words so I can finish falling the rest of the way.”
“I don’t think you’re halfway there. I think you bottomed out already. Kaput. Splat. Flat on the ground. You’ve fallen all the way.”
I drop my notebook to the bed. There’s no way I can concentrate on studying now. River is right. I’m in love with Logan. I’ve never felt this way. Whatever stupid infatuation I had for Blake back in high school has nothing on the way I feel about Logan. And yet I can’t bring myself to say it to him.
I face-plant on the pillow next to me.
“Ugh. I am in love with him. What am I gonna do?”
My voice is muffled by the pillow, but River understands me all the same.
“Just tell him. One of you has to take the first step.”
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