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Then she’d told me I was the best worker she’d ever had and offered me a raise for more responsibilities, and all I could think of was college and getting as far away from Brandon as I could…
If Logan knew—
No. I couldn’t think of that right now. He didn’t know. He couldn’t possibly. Lisa and I had always been so careful. And if he did, he would’ve told me he had that over my head as well. I had to focus. With a deep breath, I pushed all thoughts of my secret job aside and forced myself to look at the computer screen once more.
This was ridiculous. I was being an armchair psychiatrist. I had no idea if this was at all relevant to Logan, and even if it was, I couldn’t do anything with it.
I closed the tabs and opened my college apps folder instead. Working on college apps always calmed me, all the way back to the dark Brandon Days. I opened up my personal essay. There were four versions of it. I still couldn’t decide on how personal NUS wanted me to be. Should I be honest about the latent anger festering deep inside my belly, both at Pa for blowing himself and others up, and at Mom for being so weak? Or should I not mention Pa at all and present myself as another hopeful student with nothing weighing her down? Everything I read said colleges liked to hear that you have overcome some sort of strife in your life, but how much strife was too much?
Out of habit, I turned to my phone and clicked on Aisha’s name.
Delilah [9:17 p.m.]:
Hey
I watched the three dots appear in the chat box as Aisha typed a reply. It took forever, the dots disappearing and then reappearing, before she finally replied with a single:Hey.
Delilah [9:20 p.m.]:
What’s up?
Aisha [9:21 p.m.]:
Not much. Homework. U?
Delilah [9:21 p.m.]:
Same
Aisha [9:22 p.m.]:
So…what’s going on with you and Logan?
Now it was my turn to type and delete and retype a message. What should I say to her?
Delilah [9:24 p.m.]:
We’re just hanging out.
My phone rang with a call from Aisha. I quickly hit answer and smiled when her face filled my screen. “Hey, Aish—”
“‘We’re just hanging out’?” she demanded.
“What?”
“How long have we known each other, Dee? Nine years? Ten? This is your first ever boyfriend and all you tell me is that you’re ‘just hanging out’? This is bullshit.”
I blanched. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to tell you, I—”
“How about details like how your date went, and all the usual stuff about, I don’t know, like shouldn’t you be squealing and giggling and telling your best friend every goddamn thing?”
“I—yeah, of course.”
“Okay, so start with the date. Tell me everything.”
I gaped at her as my disastrous first date with Logan flashed through my mind. The way he’d told me he loved me. The way he’d brandished his phone at me, showing me that video. How dirty I’d felt for kissing him. A lump formed in my throat. “It was—um, it was okay.”
Aisha merely shook her head at me, hurt showing clearly on her face. “Whatever, Dee.”